about Calla Press, the Literary Journal
WHO WE ARE
We publish articles on faith, poetry, prose, essays, flash fiction, short fiction, and book excerpts. Max is 5,000 WC per literary genre.
As of August 2026, we are open for online literary submissions only. We are currently not accepting entries for a print journal at this time. Please subscribe to know when we do open for a print journal!
Please fill out our Formester form here to apply and submit your work. Entries submitted by any other means will be overlooked. Thank you for understanding. Please wait two weeks before submitting new work. Simultaneous submissions welcome. Please expect to wait one to two months before hearing back about the status of your submission.
Welcome to Calla Press
Calla Press began in 2017, when our founder first started publishing others' work on her website. In 2019, that early collection of writing evolved into an online literary journal through Issuu every year thereafter, laying the foundation for what would become Calla Press.
The journal soon expanded into an annual print publication. You can find our published journals online.
Today, Calla Press is an established literary journal publishing work submitted online on a rolling basis. We remain committed to creating a thoughtful, lasting space for writers and their work.
Articles
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Mystical Eruption by Alan Altany
Vincent van Gogh, Wheatfields with Crows, 1890, Van Gogh Museum, Amsterdam, Netherlands. With taut Dutch passionand thick, natural icons,religious beyond thecomprehension of critics,the p...
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I sit still yet my heart races in frenzied tandem with my mind Heavy footfalls. Why am I so anxious? Why can’t I find rest? In my insufficiency He shows me ...
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Ode to this Summer by Leslie Bustard
How much land does a man need? Leo Tolstoy Enough space for a monarch to flutter around the butterfly bush in the backyard and then flit away, only to return— as if it had f...
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Five Haiku for an Ozark Spring by Ethan McGuire
Tree blossoms, heat breeze, falling leaves, white water dream— seasons never fail. Lumbering storm clouds rest palms of rain on the earth— nature breathes anew. A ...
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I am Ruth gleaning in the field, pulling grass from the straw as a garden helper to my husband. My only companion is a black swallowtail drinking greedily from the asclep...
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Prayers before Faith by Lee Kiblinger
Are prayers before faith phrases falling, mist-like, evaporating to the ground— waves of words echoed empty, hollow, voiced but lost, just unheard sound? Are cries crammed into car...
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