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Thursday, December 30, 2004

Breakfast Served Anytime All Day

Cindy Lawson another Missouri writer took me up on my question. What poet/poetry book has meant the most you this year? Cindy's choice was Donald Hall's Breakfast Served Anytime All Day : Essays on Poetry New and Selected. Cindy not only made and excellent case for her choice, but shared some personal insight to her connection with Hall. I recommend heading over to her site and reading her post on this subject. I now have to add this book to my 2005 Reading list. See what I got myself into?

Wednesday, December 29, 2004

Kansas City Area Event - New Years

New Years Day
at
Sharon Eiker and the Writers Place
will host the
ONE HUNDRED WRITERS
event starting at 1:00 p.m.
January 1st
Readers will be alloted up to 10 minutes
of their own work or works of other writers
that inspired them.
The Writers Place is located at
3607 Pennsylvania
Kansas City, Missouri
call 816-753-1090 to get on the list
program runs from 1:00 p.m. till midnight!

The End Of The Line

Two things have converged to bring me to the subject for this blog entry. One is the passing of yet another year and the other, the passing of another writer. The two I suppose are inevitable. Like night follows the day, we can and I suppose should expect it.

NPR's piece Marking the Legacies of Writers Lost in 2004 is a fitting pause and reflection of another year gone and the writers lost as well. Alan Cheuse remembers those writers who died this year, with help from poet George Garrett, who reads his poem "Anthologies."

Sunday, December 26, 2004

Morning Poems by Robert Bly - Uncommonly Common

The other day when I mentioned that I would blog about the poetry book which I believe was the most influential one to me that I read this past year, I did not at that moment have a specific book in mind. There are a number of poets that I have read individual works of that were inspiring to me, but not an entire book written by them, so I will limit my choice the criteria of a book by a single poet. There are many that have impacted me in one way or another. But I have chosen in the end, a book that is written by a living poet, Robert Bly.

Morning Poems by Robert Bly is a small book. I read it the first time in an afternoon on a bus trip with my youngest daughter. Reading aloud many of the poems that struck me as the most interesting. My daughter, who is not particularly into poetry, seemed to enjoy many of these gems. A book of poems that can penetrate the minds that are normally closed to poetry must have something going for them.

What Bly's book did most for me was to reinforce the idea that poetry that is not static. Most of these works were about what seemed like common folks -- in common situations in life that were often told in a most uncommon context. I liked that. I liked the freedom that seemed to radiate from the pages. The freedom to know it was alright to let go with my own writing and be more bold about the images. It is very liberating to come to that point where I can accept that I don't have to explain away everything... like the poem must have a set of instructions to understand it.

Bly also reinforces that notion that writing about common things is quite all-right. I do recognize Bly as a poet with a history of activism. An outspoken critic of the war in Vietnam and the present war in Iraq. He can be quite serious about some of his messages. This is alright by me because I certainly believe that when possible, poets should play a role in the defense of humanity. But alas, it is his "down home" subject matter I like and the fact that he can challenge you so well with his imagery of everyday life.

I'd like to know some of your favorite poetry books - ones that greatly impacted you any why.




Thursday, December 23, 2004

Casual Geology

Mars is not the dead planet after all.
Perhaps it is indigestion or
Some other gaseous outburst.
Pictures reveal it to be geologically active.
I hope it is practicing safe geology.

Wednesday, December 22, 2004

Burrrrr!

It has become cold here. Single digit type cold. No white stuff, but that is fine by me. In fact I'd be tickled silly if it were to sprint right up to the 60's.

Last couple of nights I have been able to work on some previous writing "bits and pieces" and some ideas. Not quite as much has come together as I'd like, but the process is there and I think I have some things that are on the verge of working. I just need to press on with it.

As we come to the end of this year, I have been giving some thought to what poet and/or perhaps poetry book has perhaps meant the most to me this year... and of course the obligatory answer to the question, "Why?" I figure this is a worthy topic for an end of the year blog. I'm going to think about this further... and post my answer by the end of the week. So stay tuned if you are interested. It might be fun to pose the question around the poetry/poetics blogland as well, so if you are inclined to take a shot at this as well, let me know and I'll link your blog posts on the same.




Monday, December 20, 2004

I have NOT fallen off the world.

Friday night - went to a Christmas program the Kansas City Symphony does each year. Enjoyable performance - wide range of material and I always am silly with awe over Handel's Messiah.

Saturday night, wife and I attended a Christmas Party with a number of my local writing friends. Enjoyable... shared readings - food and drink. Exchanged gifts. My 2005 word power should be increasing thanks to Missi's gift.

All I have time for at this moment... but I will acknowledge the following response by Eileen to my last post. You see, I knew I could count on her to respond and I knew she would say more about the whole economic theory of Cultural Capital. (Hee-he in a deeply sinister voice)


Such is the expanse of moi talents I'm even an energizer-Bunny. Preen.

Thank you for the shamble, Michael. And as regards your query on how to increase one's "cultural capital"? The key, Sweetie, is always to give it away.

Poetry is quite transparently karmic that way.

And I do mean give it away -- not give it away hoping for something in return.

Okay: one more tip. Sweetie -- wink all you want, but never blink. Lucidity poetics, and all that.

Hmmm. Well, of course, there's another alternative interpretation to my vast Peepdom. I may have many Peeps for the same reason that cars slow down on the highway to look at a humongous, fire-blazing crash. Moi blather can burn so prettily, moithinks.

But what is the "it" -- this it one gives away, pipes up another peep listening into this fascinating conversation. Ah, the Chatelaine thinks, Is that you, Peep #403, the one always so concerned about your poetic career? She lifts a wing and from her armpit shoots out the arrow of compassion. Then the Chatelaine turns her lovely head to look straight into Peep #403's beady eyes, and with loving detachment snorts forth her very helpful reply: You want me to define the IT of Poetry? Peep -- do Moi get paid financial capital to do this blog?


Incidentially - her peep count is up to 20,000,022 but who's counting right?

Thursday, December 16, 2004

I Must Have Blinked!

Shambled over to The Chatelaine's Poetics today to find that Eileen is now up to ten million-twenty peeps. Like when did this happen? I blinked and there is all of a sudden another peep!
Me thinks they are reproducing when the PC is off. Really, I'm sure it's all that cultural capital she is accumulating. Unlike Bush (who threatens to use or "spend"his political capital) Eileen is quietly saving and maybe even hoarding hers. I think she collects all these peeps via the accumulation of the cultural capital. Each peep represents a culture token. The girl is loaded!

Okay, I'm starting to sound envious. Maybe jealous. I admit it... I'm a tad bit jealous. I see all this energy and all these peeps and I just can't help it.

Seriously, Eileen seems most of the time wound-up tighter than a clock. I don't mean "up tight" so don't flood my comment box with accusations that I think Eileen is anal retentive. It has occurred to me that (and this is strictly from following her exploits via her blog and seeing some of the material she had produced) Eileen is a very busy poet who I never hear complain that she just can't seem to do one more thing. So, what am I getting at? She has to be totally loving her work and can't get enough of it, the energizer poet-bunny, or a damn good actress. I'm leaning toward the first two. Maybe even a combination of both.

So, like how do we poor peep-deprived, cultural-capital-drained folks move from the ranks of the lesser-haves to the Eileen level? I've rubbed the cover of Menage A Trois With the 21st Century and I didn't notice anything happen. Reading it on the other hand did enrich me, but that has only inspired me to hunger and thirst more for developing a stronger poetic voice.

Did you expect me to answer that question? I'm still thinking. You'll have to stay tuned.

Wednesday, December 15, 2004

All Punked Up and Had To Write

Back from Park U reading. Just a little bit more than keyed up. I didn't say manic...

They latest copy of their Lit publication was out with one of my poems in it. Very nice publication I might add.

The reading tonight was only about fifteen people but some very nice material. Several Northland writing group members present. Scot, Sheila, Chris, Terry, Pat, Missi and myself. Did I miss anyone?

I read seven pieces - most of which were smaller. Two brand new.

I got my Poets & Writers mag in the mail today. Looks like a really good issue. Rediscovering John Gardner looks good. A piece on "Chick-Lit." The feature article on John Haskell and I don't know what it is... but Richard Wilbur seems to be everywhere these past few weeks and there is a piece on him. I am also interested to read yet another piece on the Patriot Act and it's impact on writing. I have skimmed this one already and am anxious to sink my teeth into it.


Reading Tonight at Park University

I will be reading tonight on the Park University Campus. This will be my first time in this venue and I have some brand new material. The combination of the two makes for a particular "high" that is satisfying. Now if I just do well and the reception is good.

Completely off the subject of my reading tonight, I wanted to share this quotation from Ursula K. Le Guin.

"It is a terrible thing, this kindness that human beings do not lose. Terrible because when we are finally naked in the dark and cold, it is all we have. We who are so rich, so full of strength, wind up with that small change. We have nothing else to give."

I wonder is it really so terrible? Perhaps we value kindness too little.



Tuesday, December 14, 2004

The Bridge of A Nose

"A man finds room in the few square inches of the face for the traits of all his ancestors; for the expression of all his history, and his wants." - Ralph Waldo Emerson


I see an individual
fade in and out
of the collective
of generations.

I see the past;
the future.
Desires measured
against harsh disappointments.

I see a man
in a face.
I see history
and I see inevitable.

Monday, December 13, 2004

A Couple Of Poets

God, what planet have I been on? I just realized the other day that DENISE DUHAMEL and NICK CARBO are married. To each other even! I found this fascinating.


Thursday, December 09, 2004

Friday Open Mic

Riverfront Reading Series
@
The Writers Place
---
3607 Pennsylvania
Kansas City, MO
Friday - December 10th
8:00pm
The annual holiday open mic
special event
Poems and short prose with a holiday, end of year or new year theme are welcome. Limited to two short works or one longer work not over 7 minutes.
Show up... Sign up... Read & Listen to others.


Wednesday, December 08, 2004

Mailbag

Sigh... Received a rejection letter today on a packet five poems I sent out in October.

Yesterday, I heard that one poem was accepted by a publication associate with local University's English department and a second one they would like to hold for consideration in a future issue. So I guess a mixed bag of goods is better then nothing.


Happy First Birthday

I understand that Ivy Is Here has reached a milestone and hit a one year anniversary today. Yeah! This is one of several poetry blogs I keep close tabs on. Always a good read.

Monday, December 06, 2004

Poem & A Movie

Tom Beckett cracked me up with the two squirrels talking in bed.

I see IVY made it safely down under. I especially enjoyed her interview at MiPO.

I wrote a poem this weekend that I was quite happy wit. A rather short, minimalist verse - Harsh Brushstrokes. Also worked on my non-fiction work on Candlestick Park.

Yesterday - had writers group at Maple Woods campus and then watched a video (The Terminal) with my family.

Thought Tom Hanks was very effective in the lead role. Movie seemed a bit slow at times, but in all honesty, I think that was necessary to establish the appreciation of Victor's plight. I enjoyed the movie.


Thursday, December 02, 2004

Airel Restored

NEW YORK (AP) - British painter and writer Frieda Hughes was 35 before she was able to even glance at the poetry of her mother, Sylvia Plath, whose painfully sharp images and tumultuous life have captivated readers for decades.

But now, having flown from Wales for the occasion, Hughes sat calmly for more than two hours Tuesday evening as six authors read Ariel: The Restored Edition. It was the first time that the restored manuscript had ever been publicly read in its entirety.

The 40 ferocious poems were written around the time of the disintegration of Plath's marriage to British poet Ted Hughes, and not long before her suicide in London on Feb. 11, 1963.
Poets Frank Bidart, Jorie Graham, Kimiko Hahn, Richard Howard and Katha Pollitt, and literary critic Helen Vendler took turns reading the poems at the Graduate Center, CUNY. Hughes read the first and last poems, and Plath, restored to life in a recording, read the title poem.
The clipped consonants and drawn-out vowels of Plath's Massachusetts accent perfectly suited the stringent verse: "And I/Am the arrow,/The dew that flies/Suicidal, at one with the drive/Into the red/Eye, the cauldron of morning."


The cumulative thrust of her crystalline vision was overwhelming and hypnotic. Hughes occasionally swallowed hard or pressed a finger beneath her eyes during the reading. The more than 400 audience members in the sold-out Proshansky Auditorium sat with eyes closed, or followed along in their books; by intermission, organizers had sold out all 200 volumes.
The marathon and historic reading celebrated the new collection, which reinstates Plath's original selection and arrangement of the poems. In editing the book for the 1965 British and 1966 U.S. versions, Ted Hughes had removed more than 10 of Plath's poems and replaced them with some of the last poems Plath wrote before her death.


As Frieda Hughes explains in the introduction, her father did this both to shield neighbours and family from some of the more venomous works, and because he believed the later poems made for a stronger collection. Though he included the poems in Plath's The Collected Poems, in 1981, many vilified Hughes for his initial omissions.

"His choice was made with one kind of purpose in mind, but also to make it the best book he could, and my mother's was made with another purpose in mind, but also to make it the best book she could," Frieda Hughes told The Associated Press earlier on Tuesday.
Hughes said she was hesitant when asked to write the foreword by publisher HarperCollins. Though she had read her father's Birthday Letters at his request, shortly before he died in 1998, and later read his posthumous Collected Poems, Hughes had only skimmed a dozen of her mother's poems to satisfy herself that her own poetry was not like Plath's.
"Going anywhere near my mother's poetry just reminded me of the fact that she wasn't there," Hughes said, "and the fact that she wasn't there was constantly being brought up by the media, and it made it very emotionally difficult.


"I feel very acutely the loss of her. ... It was almost as if I was never allowed to grow out of it, because of this perpetual rehashing of her actual suicide. I had begun to feel that that was the only thing she was famous for - when in fact, although she lived a short life, she made her life count."

Despite any initial misgivings, Hughes's thoughts on her mother's life and writing offer a calm, tender account of a life that has too often been fodder for sensationalist coverage. The new book also contains such historical treasures as a facsimile of Plath's typed manuscript, her handwritten and typed versions of the title poem and the author's wonderfully dry introductions to poems she read for a BBC broadcast.

Different voices brought various aspects of Plath to Tuesday's reading, from Bidart's animated but conversational delivery to Pollitt's quiet humour to Graham's theatricality.
Afterward, Hahn and Howard spoke of being depleted, but also awed and enriched by the evening.


"It was a revelation," Howard said. "I just was astonished and loved being in it."

The reading was presented by the Academy of American Poets, HarperCollins and the Poetry Society of America.


Frieda Hughes was interviewed on NPR's Morning Addition. The interview can be heard here.
It includes a recording of both Sylvia herself reading as well as her daughter in a rare reading of her mother's work.

Wednesday, December 01, 2004

Tuesday, November 30, 2004

Between The Lines

"Sometimes my doctors tell me that I understand something in a poem that I haven't integrated into my life. In fact, I may be concealing it from myself,while revealing it to the readers." Anne Sexton (1928-1974)

If a person reads something into a poem that I have not intended to convey, who is the wiser? It seems to me more and more that static poetry might as well be prose. Not to say anything is wrong with prose, only that there is a reason for the differing literary art forms.

If twenty people read a poem I have written and and nineteen see and feel something close to what I was saying, then hooray for the one who saw something different. We've evidently had different life experiences. They see something I don't.

Sunday, November 28, 2004

Friday, November 26, 2004

And This Is What Turkey Will DO To You

I spent some time this morning working on some cases from the office. Yes, on a day off. Blame it on the turkey.

I'm reading The Death and Life of Sylvia Plath by Ronald Hayman. Finding it quite interesting. Previously having read Rough Magic with I believe was a very balanced biographical book. In the early chapters of Hayman's book I am struck buy some of the material on Aurelia Schober, Sylvia's mother. So much is made of the relationship between Sylvia and her father and then the relationship between her and Ted Hughes, but there is no denying that Aurelia Plath had a significant impact on the formation of both positive and negative attributes where Sylvia was concerned.

In reading Letters Home (edited by Aurelia and published after Sylvia's death) there is a continual picture of an upbeat young woman who all but worshiped the ground that her mother walked upon. But there is some indication that several of Sylvia's poems were about feelings that reflected a different view of Aurelia. Hayman selects two "simplistic and misleading" ways in which this mother daughter relationship can be summed up:

"A virtuously unselfish mother has an ungrateful and vindictive daughter who not only commits suicide but leaves behind her poems and fiction which portray the mother in an unfavorable light and go on plaguing her for the rest of her life." Or, Sylvia can be seen as, "the helpless victim of a woman who makes important demands not only on herself but on everyone involved with her." But Hayman suggests that "[both] were victims, but neither was a helpless victim, and it's easy to understand why Sylvia had so much difficulty in holding a balance between positive and negative emotions towards Aurelia."

I will likely visit the Plath topic again. I am anxious to get my hands on a copy of Ariel: The Restored Edition.

Wednesday, November 24, 2004

It's here...

Winter came to my fair city in the wee hours of the morning. It dumped about six or seven inches of snow on us. The snow is wet - the kind that packs hard and it has taken over the trees, bending their branches in subordination the its will. They have a stark beauty to them. A quiet resolve.

Monday, November 22, 2004

Clearing his throat, he speaks....

Ah.... Ivy Alvarez has a wonderful contribution to MiPOesias. Ok, wonderful is such a blah word.... I don't know the word at the moment I'm looking for but I can tell you this poem speaks to me about hope where fear once lived. A mixture of joy and loss at the same time... and the ability to touch another human being and reaffirm life. Actually, the piece is itself - reaffirming. Oh, and how cool the people in Dublin hold poets in high regard. Suppose that is a genetic condition? Can we replicate it somehow around the rest of the world?

Eileen Tabios - the talented one know as "Moi" is correct when she noted I was speculating on her in Blogshares. But just to be fair - I have hoarded lots ofshares for poetry blog sites. I mean when you amass several billion on blogshares, what else you gonna do with your change? Besides... Just think if her Meritage Press had landed Britney Spears' poetry. We'd all be setting pretty. Ok, at least in a fantasy world.

Tonight I'll be at the WRITERS PLACE - 3607 Pennsylvania Kansas City MO 64111 for Open Mic at 8:00pm.

Forced myself to write a sonnet this weekend. Ok, it's not like I tied my hands behind my back or anything. After all, I usually have to wave them around in the air when doing something in a structured template. Sort of like wailing in anguish. It wasn't that bad. The experience anyway. I'm not discussing the poem itself.

There... I was about due for a post.



Thursday, November 18, 2004

Book Review - "Fair Territory" by Jilly Dybka - Bear Shirt Press

Review by Michael A. Wells

In the fall, the days grow shorter and the season comes to an end. The baseball season that is. Two truths that every fan knows. Some relate seasonal affective disorder or SAD to the fewer hours of sunlight. Perhaps, but every fan has to feel that emotional tug that comes with the close of the season. That feeling that is best summarized in A. Bartlett Giamatti’s "The Green Fields of the Mind." I think it is no coincidence that this period overlaps the SAD time of year.

It is during that bleak period between the final out of the season and opening day for the next one that fans like me look for any chance to feed our poor ravenous baseball souls. I found such an opportunity in Fair Territory, where poet and baseball enthusiast Jilly Dybka has fashioned her collection of baseball sonnets into a splendid winter diversion.

Fair Territory is a chapbook of 22 delicious takes on the game of baseball with some history, a dash of trivia, as well as a view of the poets own memories related to baseball.

I’m not one who must have my poetry delivered to me in strict form but I am open to such writing if it holds my attention and speaks to me. Dybka succeeded on both accounts.

My personal favorites from the book are Mudball (with it’s analogy between dirty little baseball lore and roughing up the balls before every game with ball prepping goo) and New Haircut, looking back through a child’s eyes. Plus Opening Day has a brilliant politically humorous twist that I also loved.

Fair Territory is chapbook that will pack a therapeutic punch each off-season. I plan to keep it handy on those nights that I long for the smells of grass and beer and hotdogs under the lights.

Afterthought

If enter Tom's contest (see earlier post today) and write a poem in the persona of a girl/woman/female - will I be gender confused and want to wear dresses when I am finished?
Hum... Shades of Spurger, Texas.

Thursday So Soon?

I want to take a moment to plug Jilly's baseball poems...

OMG Katey - you didn't know? Ok, you've been busy writing lots and lots of poems. Right?

BTW, I keep meaning to say how cool it is that Ivy got a Didi Menendez portrait! Of course I have absolutely no idea how good a resemblance it might be, but it is cool just the same.

I read at the Barnes & Noble - Zona Rosa Open Mic last night. Light crowd 15 or 16. I truly need to create some more new material. Had a few new pieces to share, but when you are reading a couple times a month in the in the same two venues it puts pressure on you to produce. Hard to argue that there is anything wrong with something that reinforces that kind of work ethic, but it can make you sweat.

I've been thinking that maybe I need to try to whip up something to send to Tom at Unprotected Texts. He wants poems... ok, here is his own words on the subject:


Unprotected Texts wants you to submit an original,
previously unpublished
poem about being the opposite sex for a day or
two.



Wednesday, November 17, 2004

The Gene Pool Is Murky

Delana Davies is a 33 year old mommy who felt the need to protect her 9 year old son and 4 year old daughter. The rest is quite amusing. Well, in a twisted sort of way.

You see, Delana Davies' children go to school in Spurger Elementary (150 miles northeast of Houston) and the schools have for years had a "TWIRP" day in conjunction with Homecoming week. 'TWIRP" stands for "The Woman Is Requested to Pay" and it gave boys and girls a chance to reverse social roles and let older girls invite boys on dates, hold open doors and pay for sodas. During the week, students would cross-dress on one day as part of this tradition.

A concerned Ms. Davies - fearful that such "cross-dressing" was more than a silly Homecoming Week activity and felt it had something to do with homosexuality. With the help of the Plano-based Liberty Legal Institute, she took on this tradition and it has been replaced with something much more wholesome.... "Camo Day". Now Ms. Davies little darlings can dress in black boots and Army camouflage. Thanks to Delana Davies, "Cross-Dressing Day" is gone and with it all those homosexual overtones. No telling how many gay and lesbian Texan people it was responsible for over the years - perhaps generations that it has been going on.

Excuse me, I feel a poem coming on...

Monday, November 15, 2004

If I May Say So...

You see, today's post by Eileen is just one reason you gottta love the lady... she knows it is not all about the money - it's about the peeps... and Lord knows the girl has peeps!

Ivy, you impress me with your attitude! And where do you find those great quotes? Like...

"Writers like teeth are divided into incisors and grinders." —Walter Bagehot

Enjoyed James' Moral Christian.

Yesterday was Katey's birthday. She got a new digital camera - I feel a lot of photos coming on! Happy birthday - a day late.

Check out Catherine Meng's Duct Tape. I love it!


Great link from Stephanie's Blog... By the way, I'm so impressed. She is doing The Bowery Poetry Club in Manhattan.

Sunday, November 14, 2004

Poetry blogland

There are a few poetry related blogs that I take in on a regular basis. Chatelaine's Poetics, Ivy, One Good Bumblebee, Poetry Hut, just to name a few of the first ones I tend to go to. Another that has been a staple of my regular poetry blog diet until recently has been Victoria Chang, at least until she moved away from posting her witty and thought provoking commentary and decided to post only sideline news items about her work, etc. I still went to the site every few days, but it was just not the same.

Victoria's decision was hers to make and I cannot fault her for it. I posted a comment on her blog as did many others indicating we wished she would reconsider, but alas, I can understand her decision. I noted yesterday that Victoria's blog is gone completely. This is a loss.

Blogs come and blogs go. Life moves on. Still, Victoria Chang is a bright young poet who I am sure will continue her passionate writing. It is however disappointing that those of us who read her blog on a regular basis will not have the benefit of her intellectual contributions that were often a part of her frequent posts.

Thursday, November 11, 2004

Accidental Poetry

" A poem always has elements of accident about it, which can be made the subject of inquest afterwards,but there is always a risk in conducting your own inquest: you might begin to believe the coroner in yourself rather than put your trust in the man in you who is capable of the accident." -- Seamus Heaney

It was not long ago that I did a minimalist poem that I was rather pleased with upon completion. Completion being such a final word and I so often have the problem of accepting that a poem, any poem I write, is finished. On occasion I'll read the work of someone else and think of modifications. I don't do that often. It is far easier to see someone's work in print and accept that as final. My own is another story.

It is the fact that I could sit back with some sense of satisfaction that allowed me to see this particular work as in completion. I posted the poem to a form I participate in and no one commented on it for days. When someone did, there were two back to back. One loved it and offered no changes, questions or suggestions whatsoever. The other commented one a line break they felt was rather cleaver and offered a couple of other ideas they had.

In reading these posts, I went back to the poem and found that I saw it in a different light. I had no desire to change it. I just felt it was saying something else to me. I have come to accept the possibilities that poetry opens up even to the poet him/herself.

Beaded Vase

More of my wife's artwork... The Girl Is Good!!!



Beaded Vase  -CJ Wells artist
Beaded Vase - CJ Wells artist
origional bead artistry by CJ Wells

Bead Artistry -CJ Wells


Bead Artistry -CJ Wells
Originally uploaded by stickpoet.
A short while back, I promised to post some of my wife's work. I finally was able to get some photos that hopefully will do it justice. This piece, as with most of her material was of her own design. The detail involved here is exquisite and most of her work is done in tiny seed beads which require among many things untold patience.

Isn't she great? I'm proud of her work!

I'll post some additional angles maybe later today, yet another piece of her work.

Beaded female torso - CJ Wells artist

Bead Artistry -CJ Wells

Beaded female torso - CJ Wells artist

Bead Artistry -CJ Wells


Bead Artistry -CJ Wells

Tuesday, November 09, 2004

Poetry for Your Mood

The Guardian has a fun test that will provide you with a poem suitable for your mood. Go here and take it. I did, the results follow:

You're experiencing a bit of an existential crisis, aren't you? Here's a poem to help you through your long dark night of the soul.

Eel-grass

No matter what I say,
All that I really love Is the rain that flattens on the bay,
And the eel-grass in the cove;
The jingle-shells that lie on the beach
At the tide-line, and the trace
Of higher tides along the beach:
Nothing in this place.

Edna St. Vincent Millay (1892 - 1950)



Friday, November 05, 2004

From "Exposure"

An excerpt from a new poem tonight - titled EXPOSURE

A short sleeve shirt
in true to life
form, is a flirt.

Chew on this one a bit....

"A man does not get old because he nears death; a man gets old because he can no longer see the false from the good."
-Charles Bukowski
Wow... I'm not even going to tell you what is going through my mind as I think about this Bukowski quote, but I am seeing a lot of red.

100 Things About Me

1. It's All about Diet Coke.
2. Some people would consider me opinionated.
3. I believe Baseball is the closest thing to life.
4. I believe Barry Bonds IS the greatest baseball player.
5. Capricorn.
6. The San Francisco Giants are my favorite Baseball team.
7. I would outlaw the DH.
8. I once had a car stuck in reverse and drove it backwards to a transmission repair shop.
9. I was elected Democratic committeeman seven times to two year terms.
10. I was Democratic County Chairman in a major urban city.
11. When the voting age was lowered, I became the youngest person to file for office in Missouri.
12. I never ate pizza until was a teenager.
13. I have lived my whole life in the same area code.
14. I attended the birth of all four of my children. Hey, it was the least I could do.
15. I would build a wall separating northern California from the southern part of the state.
16. I believe life begins on opening day.
17. I always cry at the end of Field of Dreams. I have to watch it at least once a year. It's like a pilgrimage.
18. I smoked a pipe in High School. (Ok, not literally in the building)
19. I have missed every single one of my High School Reunions.
20. I used to frost my hair. Sometime in my thirties it was no longer necessary as the silver set in.
21. I had my left ear pierced in San Francisco.
22. Starbucks rules. I want one on my block.
23. I do not understand the concept of decaf.
24. I don't do mustard.
25. I don't do cream & sugar in my coffee, but I will drink a latte.
26. If I could do anything for a day, it would be to pitch a major league game for the Giants.
27. I loved Candlestick Park!
28. My first public poetry reading was at Barnes & Noble.
29. I was in the boys room at E.F. Sweeney Elementary School when I learned JFK was assassinated.
30. I fail to understand why people eat mushrooms. They are a form of fungi.
31. If I could talk to any poet who has passed that I wanted, it would likely be Sylvia Plath.
32. I once drove the like the fifth vehicle in a Clinton motorcade.
33. I don't do mayonnaise.
34. Love Cheese Cake - hold the raspberry sauce - Yuck!
35. BBQ rocks!
36. I married my High School Sweetheart.
37. I love to score baseball games on scorecards - even the ones on TV.
38. Chardonnay is my favorite kind of wine. Preferably from northern California.
39. I accurately picked the day the Giants would clench the NL West Division championship in 2000, bought plane tickets and got game tickets and flew out to San Francisco with my youngest daughter to see it happen. Cool huh?
40. Billy Collins rocks!
41. Most of my poetry tends to run either along the humorous line, confessional or serious social comment.
42. I saw the last Giants game even played at Candlestick park.
43. I have a long haired daschund for a pet.
44. I have been known to read poetry aloud to my dog. He's never objected.
45. I would be lost without a Franklin Covey planner.
46. Yes, I admit I believe Kenny G music IS really cool.
47. As a youngster, Mickey Mantle was my favorite baseball player.
48. An a child, my mother would take me to get a crew cut and I hated it.
49. Sometimes we would go to visit my grandpa (a barber) and he'd pay me to let him cut my hair.
50. I don't have any use for Reality TV.
51. I am addicted to NPR.
52. Michael Feldman's "Whad'Ya know?" cracks me up.
53. I was a true fan of "Friends" and I do enjoy "Will & Grace."
54. I believe the biggest flaw Americans have is arrogance.
55. I truly enjoy flying.
56. I have an obsession with organization - yet in reality I am often disorganized.
57. I am more comfortable as a driver than a passenger.
58. I only wear white ankle high socks.
59. I feel Sean Hannity suffers from low self-esteem - that is why he conducts himself unprofessional as a "bully" on his show.
60. I enjoy spaghetti - without "toad stools" of course.
61. Two of my favorite Billy Collins poems are, "Another reason why I don't keep a gun in the house " and "Rival Poet."
62. I am convinced poets have a responsibility to the human condition.
63. Soccer seems like such a tremendous waste of energy. I've never seen so many people run around in such disorganization. The very act of scoring a goal seems like a random molecular event. It is boring.
64. Love the texture and taste of honeycomb on toast.
65. Peanut butter and chocolate together are ok... but Peanut Butter alone is best.
66. I prefer white chocolate Reeses peanut butter cups.
67. I enjoy unwinding to Jon Stewart's Daily Show.
68. I've never been impressed with Jay Leno.
69. As a teenager I though Nancy Sinatra rocked.
70. Rolling up a double-play is poetry in motion.
71. I've only read two Stephen King books.
72. I find Anne Sexton's success in spite of having no academic background for literature fascinating.
73. To me, the group Chicago is the Beethoven of this last century in music - they are a classic among the modern groups.
74. I believe Folgers coffee should have stayed in the mountains.
75. I love the smell of a leather baseball glove.
76. The smell of fresh cut grass is heavenly.
77. I loved Fizzies as a kid.
78. I wish I could read books as fast as my wife.
79. Favorite colors - orange, black and green. At election time, my color is blue.
80. Humor is critical to our existence. I've been laughing at myself since birth.
81. I'm always amused by the following... One in four people suffer from mental illness, if you can think of three close friends who are ok, then you are the crazy.
82. Something I'll always remember my grandmother saying... "I'm not anti-depressed."
83. I used to be able to exist on three to four hours sleep a night. I viewed sleep as a waste of life.
84. I still view sleep as a waste of life, it has just become a necessary evil.
85. Favorite actors... Harrison Ford, Kevin Costner, Sean Connery, Jimmy Stewart, Gregory Peck, Richard Chamberlain.
86. Favorite actresses... Ashley Judd, Helen Hunt, Julia Stiles, Julie Andrews, Renee Zillweger, Susan Sarandon, Debra Messing
83. Yes, I have worn bell-bottoms.
84. I've never put my tongue on a frozen pole. I've made mistakes, but that is not one of them.
85. I have been know to slurp my drinks at the bottom. Ok, I almost always do.
86. Always paper at the grocery store - never plastic.
87. My favorite Cartoons as a kid were Rough & Ready and Heckle and Jeckle .
88. Pet peeves - TV Remotes. They are called Remotes - not "losts" We have two lost on a daily basis for the same TV. If I can't see them in the open, I'm not looking for them. What is the point... I can change the stations with the button.
89. While I will sing in the car, I do not sing in public.
90. Though I dislike needles, I do donate blood.
91. I prefer showers to baths.
92. My Best Feature? - I have one?
93. I am an innie.
94. I am not a fan of Oreos.
95. Skim milk. Took a long time, but I am used to it now.
96. I like my stake medium-rare.
97. I hate licking stamps... envelopes even more.
98. My youngest daughter has my sense on humor. I wish she'd give it back! ( just kidding)
99. I'd prefer cold to hot.
100. Favorite slacks - khaki.










Thursday, November 04, 2004

Pardon My Decompression

The election decompression is still in progress. This is not to be confused with depression, although you can be assured there is some of that. Just regaining some grounding in where we are and what the future may hold is a part of that decompression that follows an election of major significance.

I note that Eileen Tabios blogged some on the election, and need to try digest what she is saying. I will have a postmortem but not today. For those of you that may not be aware, I have spent a good portion of my life immersed in politics. I served for 14 years (7 terms) on the as Democratic Committeeman in Jackson County, Missouri. I was also Democratic Party Chairman in Jackson County between 1988-1990. Enough on this for now, I just wanted to let my readers know that I will not let this pass without comment.

In the meantime. I arrived home yesterday to a pleasant surprise. In the mail I had a CD with 20 poems - recorded live from the Aldeburgh Poetry Festival. The CD came from The Poetry Trust. Since two poets I adore are Billy Collins and Sharon Olds, imagine how excited I was to see they each had a poem in this collection. It could not have come at a better time.


Wednesday, November 03, 2004

Something Seriously Wrong With This ....

Yesterday, a yard sign in a polling place down the block from me at a Church caught my attention. The yard sign was for a Republican State Senate candidate name Chet Southworth. The yard sign read as follows:

Southworth
State Senate
Pro Life - Pro Family - Pro Gun
oh, he did get beat badly....

Tuesday, November 02, 2004

This Is It...

I've voted, and now I'm off to do my last bit of GOTV for the Kerry Campaign. I anticipate a long day, but I am feeling good about tonight.

Saturday, October 30, 2004

Truth - Fact and the American Way

Last night I touched on Ivy's dilemma in my post but was not prepared to comment further. To bring readers up to speed, Ivy received a note from a publisher on a manuscript of poems she had submitted for consideration. In the note, said publisher wondered if it (her work) was based on personal experience. More specifically, he point blank asked if she could shed more light on the background for writing the work... was it based on her own experience? So this was more then just wondering aloud so-to-speak.

Her dilemma of course is how to respond. I am not trying to make this an advise column. Keeping my own life in a reasonable state of order is well enough work. But I think we have all had individuals ask about a piece of work and wonder. I've seen that look like, come on, you aren't fooling anyone... this is you.

For Ivy, I suspect the question is a bit more surprising coming from a publisher whom we would assume has dealt with many manuscripts and you would think would be beyond asking such a question. If I were in her shoes, I suppose I'd say as little as possible in reply. Exactly what... I'm not sure. Then again, I am not trying to play Dear Abby here.

What I am wondering is exactly what our overall roll should be in terms of educating the general public on such matters. I'd like to believe the interest in poetry, even casual interest is growing. This of course would mean there exists a constant need to educate the consumers on the matter of poetic content in work. How do we as practitioners of poetry deal with this? Or do we? Should we just buck up and smile politely when others read our work and ask, "Is this about you?"

The concepts of "truth" and "fact" are not always easy for people to discern. Perhaps this in part is because by definition truth can be related to fact. But truth can also be about sincerity in action, character, and utterance. It can be about a moment. A speck of time. A feeling. In the broadest sense we all write from "truth" but what we write is not always factual. We bring our life experiences, feelings, perceptions, into the mix and these become the tools we use to paint a picture story on a canvas of paper with brushstrokes of words. Then comes the whole issue of the consumer of our work. How many of our readers have lives that are totally parallel to our own? Few if any. The results are, the picture painted by our words may likely appear different to a reader.

So what do we do? What is our responsibility to educate the consumers? Or do we just roll on through life grinning and bare it?



Friday, October 29, 2004

In the Spirit of Halloween

I took the Scary Test...

You Are a Little Scary
A Little Scary!
You've got a nice edge to you. Use it.

How Scary Are You?

My black ink is in the red...

It's late and I was hoping to print a few note from some other posts I wanted to comment on tonight but alas my printer ink cartridge is not cooperating. Even my ink refill kit is not doing the job. I have a few choice words I could add at this point but quite frankly I am too tired to.

I did note that Eileen was able to access the net and post on her blog from France. I'll have to go back and read it tomorrow. I had expected silence from her until after the first of November.

Ivy had an interesting post about a publisher wanting to know more about the background for some of her work. The whole issue of it's relationship to personal experience. This has caught her somewhat off guard and not surprisingly so. It seems odd coming from a publisher.

I guess that is it for now. God I'm glad it's Friday!

Tell Bush - See Ya!

You can tell Bush "See Ya!" two ways. Of course, don't forget to vote. That's the most important way. But you may also go to Tell Bush - See Ya! I did.

Thursday, October 28, 2004

the plath hughes project

This is an interesting looking blog that I ran across and wanted to share with anyone interested.

I've only had a chance to glance through it, but I hope to read it more thoroughly the next day or so.

let the poem ride on it own...

"Like a piece of ice on a hot stove the poem must ride on its own melting." - Robert Frost

What If?

What if the Baseball Gods won't let the Boston Red Sox repeat a World Series win again until another lunar eclipse and the Would Series collide again for a possible 4th game win? Wow!

Just a thought....