Cajun Mutt Press is extremely proud to announce that the incredibly talented poet, and friend of the late great Hunter S. Thompson, Ron Whitehead has been added to the line-up for a featured spot on our Facebook Page! This is a big event for us, so be sure to catch his poems Tapping My Own Phone this Friday the 28th, and Shithouse Manifesto on October 31st.
Ron Whitehead’s Brief Bio: Poet, writer, editor, publisher, scholar, professor, activist Ron Whitehead grew up on a farm in Kentucky. He attended The University of Louisville and Oxford University. As poet and writer he is the recipient of numerous state, national, and international awards and prizes including The All Kentucky Poetry Prize, The Yeats Club of Oxford’s Prize for Poetry, and many others. In 2006 Dr. John Rocco (NYC) nominated Ron for The Nobel Prize in Literature. He was inducted into his high school’s (Ohio County High) Hall of Fame, representing his 1968 graduating class.
“I have long admired Ron Whitehead. He is crazy as nine loons, and his poetry is a dazzling mix of folk wisdom and pure mathematics.” – Hunter S. Thompson
Coming soon from Cajun Mutt Press,The Queen & Her Devil: A Sacred Journey Through Love and Contractsby Rani Whitehead!!! We’re aiming for a Halloween release on this one so keep your eyes peeled. You can also find her other book, Fracture Point, on Amazon. Published by C.M.P. January 7th, 2020.
“Rani Whitehead is a poet of major proportions, a gifted light who has lived the life she words. Her writing is balanced with an honesty that, for some, is frightening. Her latest offering, A QUEEN AND HER DEVIL, a sacred journey through love and contracts, is an amazing piece of work and will ultimately find its place among the country’s best literature. Rani Whitehead’s poetry, although solidly her own voice, reminds me of the poetic journals of Anais Nin. You will, once you start, have trouble stopping reading Rani until you have devoured her whole book. You will sense you have just received the gift of her deepest secrets written with a beauty that’s not seen often except when flowers bloom. She’s a writer to be reckoned with and I have a strong feeling we are going to see a great deal more of her. That is a good thing. Her work is substantial.” —Lee Pennington
“Deeply inspirational from the first moment, Rani Whitehead writes, early on, “I will melt for you / I will become molten lava / Destroying all in my path to hold your eyelashes between lips that whisper / Your longings /My longings.” Imagine the sheer boldness, the True Poet’s ability to catch the words, catch the emotion. It’s like this all the way through The Queen & Her Devil. In honor of Mahakala & Mahakali (a manifestation of Shiva and his consort). Rani opens the gates and the words rush out, standing behind the gates, waiting their turn. In The Queen & Her Devil, “a sacred journey through love and contracts,” as in earlier work, she has such a lot to say. It stampedes, it pours, it reaches us, and we are always moved. I think, How can she find such a different way to say a universal truth? But she finds a new angle, her own. Everything about her writing is her own. From the moment I became aware of her poetry, I sat up, straightened my back, and told myself, Now that’s really A Poet (which I don’t often say). That’s someone with the old magic, the old grace, and depth of The Poet. Though of a very different type, her words are as inevitable as those of the true classical poets. She speaks to us as directly as Neruda, straight in the eye. But most of all, she digs so deep—till she cannot dig any further. And it is in digging for us, holding every stone and chunk of dirt, every root and stem and blossom, she reawakens our own passions and desire to Live. That’s it: Be Alive. She writes as if we are not listening—uncensored, except by Art, and Life, and Truth. Her memories and imagination bring us hypnotically a storehouse of living bundles of Life for our savoring. I know that she will be around a long time, and I expect great things, marveling that her body can hold the intensity. Indeed this book shows us it can.” —Margaret A. Harrell (Author of The Hell’s Angels Letters: Hunter S. Thompson, Margaret Harrell and the Making of an American Classic)
“Have you ever had an all-consuming love? Have you ever felt a connection so deep that you were sure that their breath was your breath? That their heartbeat was your heartbeat? That every ache and pain they felt was felt tenfold in your bones? Have you ever felt the conviction, the undeterred devotion, to another soul so intensely that you are sure that the Universe birthed you both from the same womb at the beginning of time? Rani Whitehead’s latest book of poetry, “THE QUEEN AND HER DEVIL, a Sacred Journey Through Love and Contracts” is the story of one such love. With a mastery of pictorial words, carefully chosen and placed, she paints fantastic images of the magic and the chaos of finding a soul mate who has not yet found himself. Grounded and ethereal, tethered, and righteously free, Rani explores the duality between navigating contracts with another soul and nurturing a newfound devotion to her truth. The road Rani travels in this collection of poetry is bittersweet. We are given an intimate view of every sunrise and sunset. We ride with her to the mountaintop, high with victory, and to the shadowlands, where we nurse our travel-worn and blistered feet. And as the contract with her love bends and twists and ultimately dissolves into mist, a glorious and steady warrior is birthed, soft and strong, and true. It was an honor to walk with Rani on her journey, both in this lifetime and in this collection of poems. Her raw vulnerability IS one of her greatest strengths, and she does not hold back. Rani gives her written words, and ultimately us, the greatest gift… the naked truth of growth and resurrection through love lost and love found. Bravo, friend.” —Peyton Turner (Author ofRise Up From Ash: Follow Your Intuition, Save Your Life)
“Life, is a collection of short stories dealing with love, loss and grief set against a backdrop of vivid locations and bold situations.R. Keith’s unique style imbues each story with a rare profundity that makes each tale enjoyably memorable both in its own right and as part of this accomplished anthology.” —Adrian Hall, Visual Artist
I was setting cars on fire or I wasn’t. I mean, I am setting cars on fire or I’m not. I have to forget about the past tense. The past tense is for ghosts and apologists. Ghosts feed off grievances and errors. And here, I’ve never watched a cooking show. Add that to the bucket list. Sincere apologists make the best lists. The best ones name names. I’m not naming names. I’m not a good apologist. I prefer index finger painting, roller coaster screaming, or wild flower plucking. I wouldn’t put most of what I want on a list. There’s always some ghost reading over your shoulder. Even if your shoulders are thick. I would put the bucket in the car which may or may not be on fire. The bucket won’t drive itself. Some cars will. We are in the future now. Ask Jules Verne. The list is in red ink. Dorothy’s shoes were red and took her to all sorts of places. Her shoes sparkled, sparkled, but were colored differently than the ink red list. Think of flames, licking bright red, etc. Think of all those places and names.
I remember decades ago walking on hot Texas sidewalks that baked in the sun all day from breakfast to Dairy Queen Sundaes, I guess it was a lot like firewalking but I just called it going barefoot and being too lazy to grab the flip-flops I remember taking a big breath and then came the sizzling sound of your flesh melting until you could hopscotch to the not- as -hot grass What kind of Yankee sissy wore shoes to the swimming pool? This wasn’t about getting that old time religion But I bet God knew which of us was toughest
watch out here it comes …someone is typing a comment this is going to be good a rebuttal a rebuke an outright name-calling …someone is typing a comment stand back coming through you can almost hear the beep beep beep like a truck getting ready to unload …someone is typing a comment come on the suspense it’s like an hypnotic sine wave lulling you to sleep you need to wake up …someone is typing a comment still typing pondering tapping carefully selecting just the right amount of venom the right degree of outrage the right shade of ambiguity we live in an age of miracle and wonder and still we sit we wait …someone is typing a comment gotta get that fix that low-level adrenal release gotta watch the fight drive slow by the accident this ain’t no graceful origami it’s the rip and tear of papier mache the yank of the bandage gotta pick that scab one more time …someone is typing a comment and we sit by idly watching waiting until it’s our turn