Red Wolf Editions


Red Wolf Editions is an online poetry space.

It is the publishing imprint of Red Wolf Journal. We feel poems speak to our soul and constitute a living testament of it, be it individual or collective. You may consider us as a platform for getting your work out there.

Our digital collections are available in PDF format, published under the Red Wolf imprint.

We invite you to submit poem manuscripts to us. These are the categories of our digital poetry collections. All will be PDF issues, no print copies:

a) Maxi collection – more than 30 poems. We will provide a full editorial blurb.

b) Mini size collection – 20 poems or more (up to 30). An editorial blurb may or may not be provided. Probably a few sentences thing.

c) Nano size collection – 10 poems or more (up to 20). No editorial blurb, probably a one sentence thing.

Please note the following:

1) Your poetry collection will be published as a PDF issue at this site, available for all to download for free. We do not do print copies at the moment. If you want a printed book, do not submit here. If you want to showcase a very small selection of your poetry, it may be worthwhile to submit to test (tease?) the market, to see if a digital poetry collection of yours will stand the test here. Please do not submit if you intend to withdraw your submission later.

2) If you’re submitting your work here, do not submit it elsewhere. You allow three months for consideration. Please respect the time and effort put in to consider your work. If you do not hear within the time stated above, it means we’re not taking up your work and then you may submit elsewhere.

3) Please cite publications where your poems have previously been published. However the majority of poems in the collection has to be new, unpublished material. You may email your manuscript for our consideration at redwolfeditions AT gmail DOT com.

4) If you have a cover artwork proposal, kindly submit it together with your manuscript. If not we will propose a cover, and the final artwork shall be at our discretion. We will not be laboring too much over the cover artwork as we’re not professionally paid to do so.

Thank you for submitting your work to Red Wolf Editions.

Submit via email here.


On the whims of the crosscurrents

Through madness and
moonshine, I rise from the
jaundice of January

And with that, dear reader, you’ll be enraptured by the poetic reverie that defines Emalisa Rose’s delicate and delightful collection. Hers is not a journal of facts nor actual events. Hers are figments born of imagining; it’s the elsewhere that we dream about in word images. It’s an almanac that reaps as it sows in language, what might be called ‘scribbles’. Yet there’s nothing pejorative about it as it is rich and sweet as it fills the air.

We are words seeking
exit; concentrically
circling, babbling echoes.
–“On the whims of the crosscurrents”

It could be likened to birdsong, the musicality that awakens us in the way the sun does. Indeed birds are a major trope in Emalisa’s work.

And you, sweet songstress

of the scarlet night, set between the
barren branch with voice that breaks
December’s still life –

with Winter wings, forever singing
–“With Winter wings”

Whatever “it” is, Emalisa’s lyric dapples our world with the colors of the seasons. It echoes our heart’s song be it in winter or spring, rain or shine.

droplets of rain splashing
the streets in the swirl
of asymmetry

painting of poets; we make
art, then step back; our reds
blending blues into purples.
–“Watercolour poems”

The poems see the imagination as both a salvation and an indictment. But of course, it’s just a dream. But “she” is all the richer for having the dream isn’t she?

How did I know that your wings
had brushed by, with my window
eyes barred to the rapture of raindance

but somehow I knew
as I got ready

‘cause down here – we shiver.
–“Damaged goods”

A worthy discourse on the imagination indeed. Is it real or unreal? But cast that aside, for as reader, you’ll be rewarded by Emalisa’s poems tracing all those momentary highs as well as lows.

Download Emalisa’s debut collection here.

On the whims of the crosscurrents by Emalisa Rose


Only Borrowed Light Book Cover

What happens when everything that passes you have passed? Your life worn like one last garment shrouding you; you’ve become all woozy until you hit “recall”. Emil’s poems trace an intense soul searching, coupled with the remembrance of love and loss, so as to find its own light in the poetic landscapes, in borrowed mythology and imaginative re-enactment.

From the despair of “I can discern no center/within myself” to the realisation that “it is all/inside me,/now”, from forgetting to remembering, such that “the only healing is art”, his collection brings eloquence to the kind of ripening that brings the soul’s trajectory into the river of a remembrance, an ever fluid crossing between times past and present. The poems stir the reader into a tragic empathy, from which one emerges more human than when one first began.

Download the collection here.

Only Borrowed Light Collection


imprinting waves cover

Reading Jesse LoVasco’s collection is like having a sojourn in nature, for it is from nature that her poems get their inspiration. The poems embody the journey of a feminine self in communion with nature’s wilderness, its elements of earth, wind, fire and water (snow and ice), its fruit (corn, peas, pickled beets, beans), its spirit animals (horse, rabbit, fawns, coyote, owl, wolves, bear, moose). The rich amalgam of images calls the self to unmistakably return to sacred nature.

The poems also touch on the themes of ancestry, sisterhood and human aging. The song of the poet calls out to those who have gone on before her.

I will
lay down a carpet of leaves,
make my home in a grove of trees
and sing out from my heart in sacred notes, until they recognize me.
(“Authentic Reintegration of the Wild and Sacred”)

It ascribes the journey of the poetic self who writes these things down, “galloping/
over the inner worlds” (“Horse”), an image that is reinforced elsewhere in the collection:

saddling the horse
of my legs
up steep mountains,
feeling wind blow
the mane of my hair

Often the images hold the reader enthralled, like this one:

The farm woman yields to passing time,
sighs on the chair by the stairs,
her work complete.
(“Corn Maidens”)

A few poems, such as “Murmuration” or “Snow Ghosts”, take on a concrete shape following the birds’ trajectory or simulating a whirlpool.

Jesse’s poems affirm the sacredness of life in its varied forms, all within a natural universe that is home and serves as the end point of the human journey.

Download the collection here.

Imprinting Waves by Jesse LoVasco (1)

Jesse’s book is available in print. If you wish to order a copy at $12, plus shipping, please email redwolfeditions DOT gmail DOT COM.



Download the collection here:

Conflicted Excitement by LindaAnn Loschiavo

LindaAnn LoSchiavo’s debut collection is an Italian memoir about coming to America. It traces the first footsteps to a country that would become home. The sense of belonging proved to be elusive for her immigrant grandparents.

“Fit in!” advised her husband. Neither did,
Unnoticed by America’s embrace.
–Merletto [Lace]

Setting up roots would be reflected in the efforts of her grandfather, affectionately called “il nonno mio”, growing fig trees in Brooklyn. In fact the poems about her grandparents endearingly anchor this collection.

Her poems—peopled by her grandparents, parents, her sister, her relatives, her friends–engage us in an effusive warp of story-telling. Sometimes one gets the feeling of being wrapped in a cocoon of Italian babble but thankfully there’re translations to get us through them. For of course one brings one’s own language along with oneself, and LindaAnn’s poems reflect that. We also learn where she got her gift of narrative from…her father! (See “The Wizard of Words”).

Along with her native language, religion is weaved through her personal rite of passage, enabling her to cope with death and the question of eternity.

Where Jesus, spotless, guiltless, is then beaten
For others’ sins returns me to my oyster
Shell, hard home where I dwell with grains of sand,
Intruders I coat with a glaze to make their
Existence not so scratchy, making it
All easier to slip around till I’m good
And ready for that opening up.
–A Little Choir Girl at Passiontide

For us then, the poems are secret musings of oneself, but it is when she makes leaps towards the sublime that “Like death’s jewels, feathers fell from pelicans.” (“Aboard S.S. Guiseppe Verdi”).


dah gauguin cover1

Dah’s poetry collection, Say This In A Whisper, should perhaps come with an advisory: there are sexually charged poems such as “How To Love A Lover”, “Summer, Ocean”, “Pulsar” and “Underwater, Still Breathing”.

Their nexus is the relationship between lovers which leaves you in no doubt about where the potency lies. “Summer, Ocean” carves out physical intensity in an almost predictable way yet doesn’t strike you as being facile:

“You, the matador
drinking the bull’s blood
Me, the bull goring you into ecstasy
until we lay finished off
our bodies trembling
smelling of ocean summers”

The collection’s first poem, “Oceans Of Rain”, sets a kind of framework by disavowing religion. The speaker is “an old inmate” with the gravitas of age:

“Now, I’ve seasoned
to this gray winter
an old inmate
waiting for light
to reap darkness
waiting for darkness
to bear down

Dah writes with disarming physical candor in his love poems. There is so much light and shadow in them, that it’s most certainly spiritual while being physical. But after the ecstasy comes the agony. The lover’s absence leaves the speaker emotionally stranded. The poems segue to a requiem. Every poem shines a different light on the grieving process of remembering. There is savagery in “you were the feathers/plucked from my mouth” (“A Missing Story”) to distraction where “we drink wine each night/to reach that neon glow/in the dark of a cloistered room” (“Pictures of You”).

Sure, there’s pathos there, but someone has said, if you haven’t loved deeply enough, haven’t had that kind of physical experience, you don’t know anything much. Such pathos may be another path to transcendence, if not through religion. Why, to speak of eternity as “a strange fracture/always breaking/before one reaches the line/the mood variations, another farewell” in “Another Picture of You” to the discernment of trees in “Pulsar”:

“I look through the grille
of bare trees
through the mineshafts
of shadows”

A tender, riveting read for all lovers!

Download the collection here.

Say This In A Whisper by Dah



A daughter’s labor in grass-cutting epitomizes these elegiac familial poems. The three sections of this endearing collection act together as memory and catharsis, with an overall tone of love and whimsy. The first “green-weak” section opens with the remembrance. It defines the father-daughter relationship, its roots in the practice of scissoring the cardboard found within her father’s Roxy shirts into a child’s hand-made cards.

The poems take us through art and illness, a mother’s sense of lack, a brother’s divorce and other undoings. At heart the poems honor the perfection of imperfections: “And I loved him/to the end/despite a lifelong lack/of luster.” (Song for the Colorblind Artist). The collection’s title refers to her father’s congenital “green-weak” colorblindness, a faulty perception of reds and greens.

Her idyllic musings while cutting grass by scissors is at center, a meditation (glimpsing “the conjuring garden knot, its green snaking”) serving as transition to the third “regreening” section. It deals with death and loss. It is grief contained by noticing “an opened bag of nougat and milk/chocolate truffles” at her mother’s cremation and tellingly endured through the arrayed riches of Morocco. The reader takes each mouthful of poems, cupping them, full of weight and weightlessness.

Green is the trope, whether in the Moroccan silk of “Paradise Green”, or in grass’s “emerald blade”, or “the neon L sprouting from Google’s trademark.” How deep sorrow, how deep the green.

Download the collection here.



Our first two poetry collections were announced here.

Having Taken Vows collection cover

Cover artwork: Carmen © by Catrin Welz-Stein

By Christopher Hileman

Christopher Hileman’s poems in this collection shine. But if you feel the blaze in the words, you feel the ashes too. These poems are courtly, filled with longing, passion, gratitude, despair. Startlingly accessible in their human range, they oft use the lover as mage, always part of a spiritual quest. The poems feel like soliloquys. You’ll feel the tenderness and poignancy, hope and truth, dream and reality, flight and fall, all tangled up, finely wrought. As if the poet had sat at an overnight loom as he formed a blanket for spiritual comfort. In all of this, amidst all of love’s yearning, God is never far.

“I live in squirming under
God’s wide ranging eyes
And all things would shift, and I
Love you for this dream.”
–“Having Taken Vows”

These poems are about finding truth in heart.

Download the collection here.
Having Taken Vows First Collection


DUET collection cover

Cover artwork: The Moon Ship © by Catrin Welz-Stein

By Christopher Hileman and Irene Toh

Poetry duets work as a kind of dialog, not unlike the old haiku orations of the teahouse that were made up on the spot and traded back and forth by poets gathered there of an afternoon. These poems were written in collaboration. The first poem was written on 27 March 2014, inspired by the mysterious disappearance of Malaysian plane, MH370, on 8 March 2014. It was carrying 239 passengers. The plane’s wreckage was never found. If there’s any connection at all to these poems, it is perhaps the mystery of life on our planet. We come up with stories. That’s all we can do. These poems mythologize, speak a kind of ineffable love whose essence is both permanence and fragility. In the process, they seem to weave a precious, breakable thread that runs through life and art. The last poem in this collection, dated 20 June 2014, may be viewed simply as part of a piece of tape that had been snipped off.

“So which secretion is yours,
from ripeness and sun
and which mine from sour
grapes all in a bunch?”
–Christopher Hileman, “I So Very Much Love You”

“What is heaven except in stooping
to sweet apples fallen? Sphere
an Edenic fruit: to know is heaven.”
–Irene Toh, “Heaven Is A Deacon”

Download the collection here.
Duet Collection

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