April is going…going…almost gone

It’s the eve of the final day of National Poetry Month. I’m conflicted as I write this tonight because I have been somewhat remiss personally in making the most of this month. I started NaPoWriMo and regular readers will already know, I bailed on it last week. For the past three years I’ve printed nicely produced broadsides to give away, but I departed from that this year, largely as a cutback in spending. In past years I’ve done other things- such as daily quotes by poets or favorite poems. For Poem-In-Your-Pocket day (today) I did carry a favorite W.S. Merwin poem on small slips of paper that I gave out to some of the people I cane in contact with. I carried this out with a sense of duty to inflict poetry on others.  ;)
Still, there have been remarkable things happen this month.  I participated in a 120 hour poetry filibuster reading to set a new record for continuous poetry reading passing the old record of 56 hours and 25 minutes set in 1978. We were successful in reaching the 120 mark and it was all documented in video.Also on the personal front, I had two poems accepted for publication this month.
I noted today that until mid-night tonight you can cast your vote for the Poet Laureate Of The Blogosphere. This is the 5th year I believe that this annual vote has been held.
Poet Kelli Russell Agodon has orchestrated the participation of some 55 poets and publishers all giving away at least 2 poetry books each in drawings this month. If you’ve not entered, you can find the list on the sidebar of her blog and quickly enter them, but time is running out. Each of the poets and publishers participating obviously are a important part of making this awesome April event – but Kelli has been organizer, solicitor and cheerleader as the event has grown to what it has become. Over 110 books – can you believe it?!! Kelli tirelessly has been promoting poetry – but then she seems does this year round. 
Has poetry month been good to you or challenging? Tell me about your Poetry month activities. 

Technorati Tags: National Poetry Month,NaPoWriMoiMo,Kelli Russell Agodon,Poet Laureate of the blogosphere,poetry filibuster

Confession Tuesday - The Trash Edition

If tomorrow is trash day… this must be Confession Tuesday. Come with me to the confessional.


Dear Reader~


If I may speak of trash day for a moment… I confess to having missed paying the trash bill. This of course leads to no trash pick up. We should be good tomorrow, but the trash man will get an extra dose of trash. ~0~


The yesterday in a conversation with a co-worker there was a discussion of food people stay away from. I confess, as I did then, that there are a number of food items I will not eat. To name a few, mustard, ketchup, mayonnaise (don’t even like to say that word… it creeps me out) to name a few. I don’t do toad stools – they are fungus for God’s sake. There are more, but you get the picture. I confess that I may be an OCD food person. Let me go further on this point. When eating food on my plate, I will often stick to finishing on dish before moving on to the next. Especially if there is something I’m crazy over on the menu. If this is the case, I confess that I don’t want to share my taste buds with anything but that food. I will often save it till last and not for example meander all over the plate, a bite of corn, a taste of roll and then onto another. I prefer not to commingle my food that way. Odd, I know. ~0~


Feeling the obligation to speak of poetry here, and since I am confessing, I am a NaPoWrMo failure for 2010. I’m raising my hand as I confess so that all may see. (Woof whistle) “Yeah, over here, I’m talking about ME!” Last week I threw in the towel and said f*** it.


You see, I had gotten behind a day and continued running behind a day for about three days and was not happy with what I was writing anyway, so I just decided the world was not going to end if I stopped. Little did I know, my wife was going to miss reading them. She sent me an e-mail to that effect and I then stopped and wrote one and sent it to her.


I’ve written since, I just am not following the prompts from “poetic asides” which I was not as impressed with this year as last. It seemed like everything was something (filling the blank) or (fill in the blank) something. I’m not trying to blame the prompt maker for my failure; I’m just saying this didn’t add much extra incentive to remain committed to the write.


So there you have it… standing bare before you… you see me as I am.

Unconscious Mutterings Week 378

You Say.... I think:

• 1.Hell :: go to
• 2.Scott :: Dred
• 3.Dominion :: over earth
• 4.Stunt :: driver
• 5.Cougar :: wild cat
• 6.Columbia :: sportswear
• 7.Gasp :: surprised
• 8.Cancerous :: cigarettes
• 9.Bitty :: Beans
• 10.Quit :: fed up

Get your own list here

Dogs Dream in Splotches

Dogs dream in splotches
all my dreams are linear

I wish for them the color
of my dreams—  but I want novellas
not epics.


I want my dreams to stay in one place
for a while—  my mind is weary
of the night time journeys;


I long for one that cuddles up to me
not orders me to march in night madness
bayonet at my back across continents
for years on end...   Just a little smudge will do—
till morning comes.

The Darnedest Things

The rain seems to have settled in for a spell. Ominous looking sky moved in and had sort of frozen in place like it moved in to stay. When I was out earlier it was a bit muggy but inside there is the chill that one normally associated with a damp chilly day and there seems no in between.

My daughter called from Arizona and asked if I saw their Governor on the news.  If you’ve caught any news in the past 24 hours you’ve probably seen her, Governor Jan Brewer. My daughter’s voice wasn’t beaming with pride in the Governor but rather embarrassment maybe…

The law essentially instructs local law enforcement to seek out illegal immigrants in the state. It establishes an authority for them to ask for documentation where they believe the person appears to perhaps be an illegal (undocumented person) in this country. Interestingly enough the Governor believes that while she doesn't  know what an illegal looks like, she is pretty confident others in the state do. Listen to the video clip below.

 

Oh… I also fount this hysterical… The Sue Lowden Health Care Plan.  Sue is running for Senate against Harry Reid in Nevada.  Anyway, time to get back to my regularly scheduled weekend.

Technorati Tags: Governor Jan Brewer,Arizona,Sue Lowden Health Care

Hugo House to Host Their First Writers' Conference

The Richard Hugo House will be hosting their first ever writers' conference over the weekend of May 21-23 and boy, have they got some good stuff in store for participants. The conference will include panels and workshops, among other festivities, to the theme of Finding Your Readers in the 21st Century.

Not only are we in the middle of a terrible economy, but the modern publishing world as we know it is going through a historical transition and looking fairly uncertain for many professionals and book lovers. Local bookstores are closing; our favorite magazines and newspapers are increasingly becoming thinner; the industry has seen hundreds of lay offs; and as this decade's most popular saying goes, "Everything is moving to the web."

Full Story

Potty Poetry

 Thrilling Tales: A Storytime for Grownups - our 2010 schedule of stories.

Mad Poets Society create a camaraderie - Life - Delco News Network

Mad Poets Society create a camaraderie - Life - Delco News Network

By JOE McALLISTER   - Correspondent

Like any driven artist, Eileen D’Angelo believes in dualism. “I’m a paralegal by day and a mad poet by night,” says the director of the Mad Poets Society, a non-profit arts organization that has grown from a handful of poets at Media Borough Hall to over 100 members spread out over the five county area.

Like their logo shows (a wind-blown, mad-hatted poet struggling against the elements with a hand full of penned poems – an illustration of the odds facing most poets), the Mad Poets have 100 events scheduled for 2010 and that’s a whole lot of organizational onomatopoeia. With April deemed National Poetry Month, local wordsmiths see it, literally, as an opportunity to spread the good word.
“The media gets involved and the public remembers there are beautiful words out there,” says D’Angelo of Glenolden. “The focus is put not only the art of poetry but the purpose of poetry: to capture and make sense of the world around us.”  Full Story





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national-poetry-month-perfect-time-to-rhyme

National Poetry Month perfect time to rhyme
Classic artists like Silverstein, Carroll ideal antidotes for late-semester stress

By
Published: Wednesday, April 21, 2010
Updated: Wednesday, April 21, 2010

April is National Poetry Month, and what better time to spend on meter? It’s diverting to compose those limericks about studying till dawn or a rhyming couplet about how frustrated you are at your grades. The poetry world offers a wide of variety of subjects ranging from serious to silly to help cope with the end-of-semester crunch. Full Story

The City of Newark and NJPAC to Host 2010 Geraldine R. Dodge Poetry Festival, October... -- NEWARK, N.J., April 19 /PRNewswire-USNewswire/ --

 "The City of Newark and NJPAC to Host 2010 Geraldine R. Dodge Poetry Festival, October 7-10, 2010

Biennial event to feature MORE THAN three dozen renowned poets, including four U.S. Poets Laureate, Pulitzer Prize winners, and other acclaimed, award-winning and widely-published poets - Tickets go on sale Friday, April 23rd

Expected to attract 20,000 to NJPAC and other Newark venues

NEWARK, N.J., April 19 /PRNewswire-USNewswire/ -- From Thursday, October 7 through Sunday, October 10, the City of Newark and New Jersey Performing Arts Center (NJPAC) will host the largest poetry event in North America, the 2010 Geraldine R. Dodge Poetry Festival. Tickets for the Festival go on sale beginning Friday, April 23rd (see below for complete Ticket Information and Festival Prices). The Festival is sponsored, in part, by the Bank of America and PSEG Foundation."    Full Story

Confession Tuesday

Tuesday has arrived quite in schedule so I’ll saunter on down to the confessional. Care to follow?
 Dear Reader-
 I confess that last yesterday afternoon, after a routine doctor appointment and trip by the chiropractor’s office, went home and fixed my wife and I dinner and then promptly crashed for the evening. I felt a little under the weather and as a result did nothing that I would normally do in the evening. No reading, no writing, didn’t turn on the computer. I’m sorry to say I didn’t even clean up the kitchen after dinner. This morning I actually feel only slightly more functional. ~0~

My son had been out of town for a week and I would dog sit in the evenings and on weekend while he was away. Evidently something went array in his upbringing because while I’m proud of him and what he has done with his life, I cannot explain his attraction to the fox cable news network. We picked him up and the airport and took him back to his house and we had only gotten about five or six blocks when he texts my wife and says his TV has some kind of virus… he turned it on and got MSNBC (which was intentional on my part). I confess I laughed my ass off all day long and still chuckle thinking about it. ~0~

Looking at my present journal (maybe half full) I confess I want to replace it with a refill because it bugs me when I have a few lines of something I’ve written that I abandon and move one. Once that happens a few times and or I have stuff I’ve crossed out it really starts to gnaw at me and I want a fresh new refill. Of course I don’t run out and replace it… I suffer through it to completion and I do mean suffer because it really bugs me. I can clearly see I have weeks of annoyance left to work through. I may have to see a therapist.

Thanks for listening dear reader… now we can get on with our week.

From Natalie Merchant, a Literary Tour - NYTimes.com

From Natalie Merchant, a Literary Tour - NYTimes.com: "A FEW weeks ago Natalie Merchant was pondering what the promotional sticker should say on the package of her new album, “Leave Your Sleep.” She was worried that “the P-word,” as she put it, might deter potential listeners. The P-word? What unseemly term could Ms. Merchant, one of pop’s most kindly and conscientious voices for nearly three decades, possibly need to hide behind an initial?" CLICK TO READ THE ENTIRE STORY

To Think of Summer

[For today's prompt, take the phrase "To (blank)," replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write the poem. Some examples: "To the left, to the left," "To write or not to write," "To Kill a Hummingbird," "To the Doghouse," etc. There are so many possibilities.]


There you are—
on the wings of summer

wind in your hair
Marigolds everywhere

sunshine falls across your face
brown eyes shine without a care

you entice seemingly
without even knowing

I think you wear summer
best of all

Body and Mind

[For today's prompt, write a science poem. Science encompasses a lot, so your poem doesn't have to be scientific to still be a science poem. For instance, you could have a poem titled something like "The Science of Love," and then examine a relationship. Voila! A science poem! Of course, it'll be interesting to see how many poets talk about volcanoes and single cell organisms, not to mention finding out how many "mad scientists" are out there.]


"every cell in your body is eavesdropping on the brain" ~ Deepak Chopra

Every cell?
The cells in the second joint
of my left pinkie finger?

This idea of "smart cells"
poses a whole new bioethics.

If I knew full well
that it's unlawful to drive drunk,
then falling off the wagon
and operating a vehicle
is more than a lapse of judgment.
My legs and feet that did not walk away
knew, my hand that kept
raising the beer can had knowledge—
so many cell co-opted in this—
they could have intervened
but failed to.

Somehow
this makes any transgression
seem worse. Let's face it,
your whole body
was into the act.

When I was told no more cookies
before dinner and then caught
in the cookie jar, had my had slapped…
it deserved it, for it too was culpable,
as were my shins and elbows—
hell, poke my eyes for good measure
and ground my sperm!
They all were in on it.

Knowledge is a heavy responsibility.
My whole body is convulsing at my thoughts

So Easy – So Scary

Technorati Tags: no restrictions at gun shows

 

 

Technorati Tags: lack of restrictions,gun purchases

Deadline

[For today's prompt, write a deadline poem. You can interpret what a deadline poem is however you wish. Maybe it's a poem that laments the idea of deadlines. Maybe it's a poem about someone intentionally missing them or who never has problems with them (I wish I were that person). Regardless of how you take it, remember that you have until tomorrow before another prompt will be posted. Consider that your poetic deadline.]




In an urban trauma center
a gunshot victim
becomes just a portion
of the 2 am bedlam—

the changing of the guard;
EMTs hand off the victim
to the hospital staff—

in a hurried continuum
down a corridor
throw swinging doors
now under bright lights
the crimson soaked shirt
is cut away—

bags to IV tubes refreshed,
monitor hooked up,
orders shouted like barking
from competing street vendors

from here it looks like chaos
but the movement is routine
as a well practiced fire drill.
This is the fifth or sixth gunshot
this week— I lose count
and it’s only Thursday.

“We’re losing him” shouts a voice…
“Stand back,” comes another.
“Clear!” things become
slow motion here. Another,
“clear!”

The red line on the monitor flattens out—
They've reached another deadline;
“Time of death 2:32 a.m.”

The Poetry Deal by Diane di Prima

I found this wonderful piece of writint at SF Gate.  Below I'll leave you with an explanation by the poet laureate of San Francisco Diane di Prima - I could identify with so much of it.  After you read it - follow the link and read "The Poetry Deal"


Diane di Prima is San Francisco's poet laureate. About "The poetry deal:" I committed myself to a life of poetry at the age of 14, as a sophomore in high school. I'd been writing some poetry since I was 7, but to me "commitment" meant that I'd write something every day, and would learn all I could about the craft of the poem. As the years passed, I kept doggedly at it, writing, studying obsessively, and always avoiding classes and workshops. By the time I was 24, I was putting out a book a year. Forty years after that commitment, it occurred to me that - selfless and unquestioning as the creative life is - there actually is something like a contract between me and my art.

click below

The Poetry Deal by Diane di Prima

On Death

[Maybe it's a little too close to tax day, but today's prompt is to write a death poem. You can write about a specific death or consider death as an idea. In the tradition of Emily Dickinson (and other poets), you could even address Death as an entity. Or you can surprise us with a different spin on the subject.]



From birth we commence
with dying. —with no understanding
of this fact or knowledge of what death is.


Our life is wrought with death daily,
we experience it in little things—


first, cheap toys that that break down
and leave us…


the randomness of an ant crushed
under our feet…


the spider your mother took out
with the sole of her shoe…


the naked baby bird
fallen from a nest— it's beak open
it's neck broken.


It becomes more personal
with the death of a pet. A dog
or cat, or turtle… something to which
we've grown attached
up and dies…


and we learn
the deeper meaning of sadness—
more profound than the plastic decoder ring
that was broken and thrown out;
and I think


each time we see death
the world dies a little bit more
for what has passed on


and as children we are often spared
the trip to the funeral home because we are
so young; but at what point…
at what point do any of us
achieve understanding? At what point
do we suddenly have a comfort level?
I think never…


for death stalks us
day in
day out—


it will wait for us.

Unconscious Mutterings Week 376

You say... I think:

• 1.Habit :: Nun
• 2.Relaunch :: Program
• 3.Mondays :: Manic
• 4.Bootstrap :: Pullup
• 5.Funk ::  Mayor
• 6.Appreciate :: Love
• 7.Yay! :: Overjoyed
• 8.Life ::  Sentence
• 9.Sheets ::  Paper
• 10.Date night ::  Friday Night

get your own list here

Jeweled Island

[For today's prompt, take the phrase "(blank) Island," replace the blank with a word or phrase, make the new phrase the title of your poem, and then, write the poem. You could do a well-known island, such as "Treasure Island," "Ellis Island," or "Total Drama Island." Or you could make up the name of an island. Or you could even have a long drawn out title, such as "You'll never get me on an island" or "If I were on a deserted island."]



Jeweled Island



The beaches, vast in topaz crumbs
sparkle against the morning sunlight
and the deep blue waters ripple in
with a white foam tide.

Coconut trees are heavy with
fire opal fruit and near by
yellow tourmaline bananas
dangle above us.

In the distance, beyond
the lush jaded grasses
mountains of blood stone
and onyx rise high into the sky—

some snowcapped in diamond.