Confession Tuesday - Maple Leaf Edition

Dear Reader:

It has been one fall week since my last confession.

I confess that when I get new reading material (especially poetry) in the mail I get crazy happy.
This week Laura Kasischke's latest book "Where Now" arrived in my mailbox. This was cause for some dancing. I did it inside so the neighbors did not think that I was crazy or at least confirm their preconceived notions.

While we are on the subject of things that add a smile to my face, it's fall and I love the bright orange and red Maple leaves. And as I mention this I confess that a bit of sadness comes over me as I realize that since we sold our home and moved, I will no longer have the two surprise Maples in the backyard to admire. They were a daily infusion of joy. The Iris flowers did the same for me, but that is another season. They will be missed as well.

During this past week, I had some worry about  Silas, our rescue German Shepard. He was not keeping food down and had diarrhea.  I am happy to say that he seems on the mends. 

Like I suppose everyone else, the disasters - Hurricanes, tropical storms, earthquakes and most recently the California fires have occupied my mind. (at least that part not consumed by our moronic President) These disasters underscore just how fragile life can be. I know so many people that were within the striking path of the fires in northern California.  The many of you have been on my mind and in my thoughts and prayers. I confess that it seems totally incomprehensible what life for those in the path of the horrific fires. Not only lives threatened but homes and whole communities. It is times like these that you wake up, inhale and count your own blessings to be alive.

I think art, writing, music & especially poetry are the medicine for our souls. I confess that in these times, the arts seem less like the luxury some believe they are and more like an essential ingredient ofday to day living.

If you are reading this, you may be suffering in ways that none of us can imagine. For those, I know your pain is real and you have my thoughts and prayers. But if you are reading this, you also have life. I hope you will rejoice in that fact. We have ourselves & we have each other.

Until next time - be safe!

Confession Tuesday - I know who the moron is, edition.

Dear Reader:

It has been seven weeks since my last confession. These things happen. You get busy, you get tired, you find yourself in a trance, or lost in a poem whose end has not been written yet and you don't know how the hell to get out of it and seven weeks have passed and you are asking forgiveness for being such a lousy confessor.  

I guess seven weeks ago I was marvelling at the sight of the solar eclipse. Today, I confess I'm just happy the sun came up on another day. This causes me to ask a serious of questions that I can't believe I even have to ask... Like:

1. Why do we need a president anyway? 
2. Why is he hell-bent on constantly keeping us on the brink of war?
3. Why has he sold out to a foreign adversary?
4. Why does he coddle Nazis and white supremacists?
5. Why is Trump more immature than the average 4-year-old? 
6. Why is he challenging a cabinet member to an IQ contest to prove who the real moron is? 
7. Why is all this for real and not reality TV?  Why can't we just turn it all off and make it go away?

I have started working with another poet who is mentoring me specifically towards more impactful poetry. So far I believe that there are some positive developments in the way I approach my writing. I confess that it is too early to see the changes I want to achieve but I feel good about it and that is a good starting point. 

I have a reading at the end of this month and I confess that I want to read some new stuff that no one has heard yet. This means reworking several drafts that I have been sitting on. 

Trying to be a better writing steward I have agreed to work with other mentees from our Spring W2W session to help facilitate discussion among the Fall W2W session mentees on Facebook. I confess that I enjoy seeing the excitement that these writers have for their particular genre. I think it's infectious. I believe this is something you would want to catch. 

Ivy Alvarez turned me on to the poet Brigit Pegeen Kelly by introducing me to the poem "Song" I confess this is one of the more powerful poems that I've read for quite a while. 

It turned cooler last night. It's feeling more like October. Oh, and there is fall ball!  While I miss my Giants - I am happy the Indians have played a great season and right now they are tied with NY in the divisional series. Fingers crossed that they win the world series this year, I confess my eyes are crossed too but that may be because I'm especially tired. 

Until next time, be safe and stay sane. Someone has to. 

Confession Tuesday - The Totality of it All

Dear Reader: 

It has been precisely one trip to the butterfly gardens and one total eclipse of the heart - I mean the sun since my last confession. 

I confess reader that I don't have a lot to talk about this confession, but what I do have to fall back on are positive confessions. 

First, my wife, granddaughter, and niece all did an outing to Powell Gardens for their butterfly garden.  It was my first trip the butterfly portion but I have done other events there in the past. Harper, my granddaughter, had a delightful (albeit hot) time. We all sweltered in the sun and humidity but the event featured in addition to butterflies - a whole host of flowering plants and greenery.  I think we all felt that we would be inundated with butterfly clouds about our heads but this was not the case. There was, however, a good number of them and we or at least I was well pleased with the exhibit. 

It was funny because they had a buffer area in the entrance where you walked in and closed a door behind you, then opened another and proceeded into the garden area. Upon leaving we had to stop and turn around to be checked for any butterflies that might be trying to elope with us.  I thought they were going to pat us down and check our pockets too. 

This brings me to Monday. The day of goofy glasses. When I left the office in the morning it has been raining. The prospect of seeing any sun, much less the eclipse seemed remote.  As the morning progressed, we would check out the windows from time to time and alas it looked like we might be in business. I confess I had been wildly anticipating this event. 

I have always held the moon in high mystical esteem. The sun and moon eclipsing was like two opposites attracting and coming together in a dance. I have indulged the concept of great romanticism associated with this event. I had, in fact, hopped that my wife and I might share the experience together but I confess that was not to be. 

The sun goddess looked favorably upon us because the sky mostly cleared and just before totality a stream of clouts momentarily threatened but quickly moved on.  Hazza! A magnificent halo around the moon with a tiny spot that had a starburst creating a wedding ring effect was before our eyes (covered with protective glasses of course). 

Now I admit that for days I've had Bonnie Tyler's "Total Eclipse of the Heart" going through my head. I've always been fond of the song but it's looping in my mind this very moment. 

Am I any different from this experience? I confess that I believe these two celestial bodies coming together made me feel more in communion with the universe. That's belonging t something really big!  

I think the eclipse was meant for the poet that resides in every one of us.  Including the ones that don't know it or would deny it. 

Until next time - be safe & Peace!

Confession Tuesday - Got Respect edition

Dear Reader:

It's been one house sale, several rejection letters, the Giants have gone 16 -21, North Korea has launched 2 ballistic missiles, and the President has given aid and comfort to neo-nazis, white supremacists, and the KKK and 6 weeks have passed since my last confession.

Follow me to the confessional:

My dear readers, the very thing has happened that I so mentally fought for all of this past year and a half. Our house sold. Actually, it sold the first day on the market. But it is done with now. I confess this has been an extremely unsettling feeling and I loved almost everything about our home. The layout, the location, the Great Room, the trees in the yard, the Iris that came up every single spring, except this one for some reason (I think they knew we were leaving) and openness around us.  I won't pretend that I am okay about this for now because it is not that easy.

Through this, I learned a new word. Hiraeth is a Welch for which there is no direct English translation.It is a mix of longing, yearning, nostalgia, wistfulness, or an earnest desire to return to a place you can never go back to. I believe this experience will very likely inform my poetry writing for a long time to come.

I have been a Giants baseball fan for in excess of 30 years.  I confess my team which is generally highly competitive is having one of the worst seasons imaginable. Still, I would like the record to reflect that Michael Wells is no casual or lukewarm Giants fan. They are still the team I love even if they are having a crappy season. There will be better days and I will be there still.

I would be kidding you if I said I was not bothered by the increased activity towards nuclear warheads by North Korea. I am after all a cold war kid. Yes, we have lived with a nuclear threat all these years since then but at a substantially reduced risk. What we have not had is a president who in the wee hours of the morning tweets stupid stuff about North Korea and talks about "Fire & Furry like the world has never seen." In return, they have talked about launching ballistic missiles in the vicinity of Guam (a US Territory)  Neither Kim Jong-un or Donald Trump appears to be rational. I confess I don't know how got to this place?
Yesterday was a pathetically sad day for this country. I confess I never anticipated I would see the day that our President would give aid and comfort to White Supremacists, Neo-nazis, and KKK.Trump's words this week in connection with the violence in Charlotteville are despicable. There is no excusing them whatsoever. He has no moral authority as president.

Since I was last here confessing, I acknowledge that I have come across a poet that is new to me and has remarkable ability to write with a level of intimacy and emotion that is rare. There are many reasons this poet is awesome, not the least of which she is non-degreed and in fact did not finish middle school. She is my patron saint of non-degreed poets. Her name is Francesca Bell and you can see her work here Francesca Bell- Poet.So who are you reading that is new to you? Let me know.

Until next time, write, read, be safe!


P.S. - Got Respect? This world needs more of it!

Confession Tuesday Baby - Caroline Edition

Dear Reader:

It's been a a whole month since my last confession. Far too many disgusting Trump Tweets,  too many fucking fireworks going off as my wife is trying to nap and the dogs are going buck crazy with each boom. I'm at wits end myself.  I can only imagine what it will be like after dark. On an exciting note, we have a new granddaughter that arrive just yesterday.

But reader, I degrees....

My head is hosting a giant headache and has been for much of the day. At the same time, I have some neck pain going on. All this was sufficient to leave me feeling depressed earlier.  Fortunately, an alprazolam later I'm doing a little better, except one of the dogs now has been barking for a good 10 minutes straight and it honestly feels like it is going to be a very long night. I confess, I want to strangle some neighborhood assholes engaged in the firework crap.

Yesterday, was an exciting day in the Wells family.  Caroline arrived making a second grandchild for my wife and I. She joins big sister Harper in the Porter household. Above is Caroline in my arms. I confess #2 is just as exciting as the first was.  We've had Harper much of the last couple of days while mom is preoccupied.  It has been interesting to watch her reaction to her new sister.  When we went up to see mom and newborn last night they gave Harper a "Big Sister" sticker to wear. I thought this was really cool myself.

Earlier last week I felt I was back on a spell of positive creative Karma but the past few days I have failed to utilize and sustain it. Now, I find myself trying to get it back. I confess that feeling stressed about it and trying to force and magically wish it to return is likely counter productive. I will try to do some reading from material that I often find helpful in stimulating the right atmosphere for writing, I'll let you know this week how this is coming along.

Have a safe fourth! Enjoy family & friends and celebrate our nation & the things that make us free.

Confession Tuesday - The Need to Read Edition

Dear Reader:

It's been one surrender in world climate leadership to China, continued multiple insults to European allies, leaked inelegance confirming Russia hacked a voter/election software supplier prior to the November 2016 election, one rejection letter, great anticipation of former FBI director Comey's testimony in two days before the Senate Intelligence Committee, contemplation of poets for my 2017 Poet's Crush List, and another week since my last confession.



Let me start by confessing  that I have not been reading enough this past week. Too many things getting in the way; unpacking and arranging my writing studio.  It is maybe two thirds what I had before and at one point this weekend I was nearly rendered frozen by the feeling that the walls were closing in on me.  It just came from nowhere and it was like a stun gun hit me and I could do nothing.

Without  particularly trying intentionally I have been doing some longer poem drafts lately. I confess that  more often than not my lineage is often 21-25 lines or less. I'm happy to see some longer works but honestly I have not set out to do this. It's like shit. It happens.

I'm narrowing in on my Poet Crush List for this year. I will announce it this month. It's hard because I am reading so many wonderful poets during the winter and spring and it's hard to narrow them down to 6. I call it  My Poet Crush 6 Pack.  It is harder for me to narrow down the women then men. I confess this is because I tend to read far more women poets than men.  Two of the six were men last year. I don't anticipate the ratio being  any higher than that this year but who knows...  there were so many really good reads this time it is hard to choose just six.

There are some books that will be coming out later this year that I am really anxious for.... When I know one is being release by an author that I generally have loved their work, I confess I get downright giddy as I know I am approaching a new release... Victoria Chang’s Barbie Chang forthcoming. It's available for pre-order. Heather Derr-Smith has Thrust: Poems  available in pre-order and Kaveh Akbar's book Calling a Wolf a Wolf  will be out this fall as well.  I confess That I am probably forgetting one or two others that ore on my future reading list but that give you an idea that there will be some great reading ahead.

I confess that in the evening when I take Silas out on a leash for his final business trip, I have missed the open sky that allowed to nearly always see the moon and stars overhead. They spoke to me. Now at night I hear nothing up there.... Till next time... stay safe~

Confession Tuesday - Memory Lane Edition

Dear Reader:


It has been one fucked up Great Room, boxes packed & unpacked, one faux president that left the country, embarrassed us overseas and returned, me reestablishing a writing studio (still in progress) lots of sifting through pictures, etc. (or as my wife likes to say, "we don't have time to go down memory lane." Too numerous things that I cannot find to mention them all here, and of course two fricking weeks since my last confession.

I confess that  emotions and anger  are high.  I was not in favor of selling our home. Nor was I in favor  of moving  where we have moved.  A contractor was brought in to do some things to the house before we sell it.  One of the things I did not want  and was conveyed to Tom the contractor was that the dark hardwood which comprised the bulk of the room itself was NOT to be painted. This was conveyed  by my wife early on. Yet a week ago Sunday we stopped by hand there was bird-shit white primer on all the wooden walls and beams. I'm not talking about some cheap paneling. I went ballistic. It remains one of the most angry moments of my lifetime.  The contractor  was a friend of the family and he had done work for us before including twice painting the exterior of the home. This room is what sold me on the house when we bought it.  Vaulted ceiling - floor to ceiling brick fireplace with built in bookcases of the dame dark wood, floor to ceiling on either side of the fireplace. Seeing this made me both physically sick as well as tremendously angry.

Watching the president  fly off to the world beyond was surreal. It was like good, he's out of our hair. The reality is that he was still on the planet and he could still do damage, act like a complete bully/sociopath that he is and give the rest of the watching world a horrible image of Americans.  I confess, he is nothing  like most of us. And yes, there is the reality that he returned.

Moving is stressful. Years ago I was a Realtor and I recall a reprint from a trade journal that indicated that moving was one of the three most stressful events in life only  behind death of  a close family member and dissolution of a marriage. This move compound multiple elements of disfavor for my part. One is the move itself. I've never liked moving even if I was going  someplace that I had a positive anticipation about. Second is the sale fo the house (which has not yet occurred) - but  I had no interest in leaving this home anytime soon.  I rise every day, drive to the same job I've worked for 30 years. I'm not an invalid,  My mind is fully intact. I loved my home. Why would I want to sell it?
And last, I did not want to move in with another family member. I love my family but I also value autonomy. The house in not in a geographical area I wanted to live in. The house is much smaller, no basement.  Between the humans and pets, it is cramped quarters. I feel like I moved into a Tiny House and I am not a Tiny House kind of guy.  All this I confess increases the stress above and beyond that normally associated with moving.

Honestly, I feel somewhere between a refugee and an Expatriate who can't go back to his homeland. As long as we are confessing, I'll throw that in there too.

On a positive note, I have continued this month to submit work again. Getting back in the routine of Saturday Submissions.  I confess that  I know this is good and in a matter of time I will be  back to getting somewhat regular new pieces of poetry published.

I confess that moving brings back memories. It is bound to. You find and reminisce over old snapshots, Watching a home empty out is like a time laps video o  your life there. That alone uncorks emotions - aged and taking on flavors of the past.

I confess that I am excited that I will be work-shopping writing with some others from the Writer 2 Writer 2017 Spring Session. I'm as anxious to see everyone else's work as I am for them to see mine.
I confess that part is a little scary too.

This past week I had a scheduled Artist Date and I confess I need to be better about doing those. At least a couple times a month.

Over the weekend I enjoyed one of my wife's exquisite dishes that she learned from her grandmother, good old Polish Golumbki.  I confess I could never tire of it.

It also occurred to me this weekend that  June is about here and that means it is time for my annual Poetry Crush - Six Pack List.  I confess I've had names swirling around and some will no doubt rise to the top and - there will be six of them.  I guess you'll have to keep checking back until they are announced later in June. :-)

I feel totally confessed out. I can think of nothing more--

Until next time, stay safe! Enjoy life.

Confession Tuesday - Poetry Contest - Goals - and Trump in Orange Jumpsuit Edition

Dear Reader:

I've entered one poetry contest, sent out 4 poems, all new (meaning they have never been submitted anywhere else before), concluded Module 6 in the Spring Writer 2 Writer program, and there has been a whole lot of shit happening in Washington since my last confession.

Follow me to the confessional....

Reader, I'm tired. moving does that to you. I'm in cramped quarters and started over putting together a writing studio again. I miss my old one. I miss everything about our home. Contractor is doing stuff there now but it's empty and I confess it looks like it is lonely too. Do you think houses have emotions?

I missed last weeks confession Tuesday because life was happening. A lot of life has been happening lately and it seems to get in the way. Still, I've tried hard to get some focused writing time in over the weekend. Worked on one new poem in particular for many hours over Saturday night and Sunday. I confess that it felt good when I included it in the contest material that I sent out.

I don't enter a lot of contests but this one particular one I've done maybe 3 or 4 times. I think this makes 4. It is sponsored by a Journal that I especially like and it is often featuring  other writers I especially  enjoy reading.

In an email exchange this past week with my mentor Ken Waldman, we talked about  goals, both short term and long term. We have agreed to touch base around the first of January to see how the short term goals are going. I confess that I am really grateful for the opportunity that has been afforded me by AWP in the form of the Writer 2 Writer mentoring program. And as for Ken, I cannot thank him enough.

I hate to take a downward turn now but I confess that I am appalled at the behavior of President Trump.  I confess that  I always had concerns about him being fit for the office but I have to say that his behaviors are embarrassing and he is clueless. His ethics are non existent. He is the most childish person of adult age I have ever seen. He lacks to capacity to be truthful. He has the attention span of flea and has put our nation and democracy at risk in so many ways. He has now obstructed justice and in spite of any finding that collusion with Russia goes as high as him, he is now a candidate for impeachment for trying to derail the investigation by the various law enforcement and national security agencies that are investigating the Russia and Trump campaign connection. I confess that I believe we all will be better off when this man leaves the White House and his many business annexes and enters prison in an orange jumpsuit.

That's it for now... I beg your absolution for going political.

Confession Tuesday - Elephant in the Room

Dear Reader - It's been a string of rainy days that came and went, I poetry month complete with 30 poetry drafts that ended and the arrival of one new poetry book since my last confession.

To the confessional....

Reader, my life is about to be turned upside down and inside out. We are going to sell our home and move. If there is one thing that I hate more than moving ( and there isn't much) it would be selling the home that  I absolutely love in a hundred different ways.  At one point in my life I was a Realtor. I recall reading an article from Psychology Today that was reprinted in a trade magazine which listed moving  as one of the three most traumatic things a person goes through the other two were death of a close family member and  dissolution of a marriage.  I truly understand that and believe it to be true.

I confess that I have been internally dealing with this for some time but the actual move is imminent. It was the thing I did not talk about on here. The elephant in the corner.Basically I keep telling him to sit in the corner and shut up. This is all that I am going to say about this for now but I suspect over the next few weeks it will likely come up again in one way or the other.

I confess that my creativity has been dog paddling to try and stay afloat. The emotional stuff  has been like rocky waters that I bounce about trying to stay afloat and not  get bashed into.

I do wonder if there is some kind of silver lining in all of this. Perhaps my experience will  me to craft a wonderfully magnificent manuscript as an Expatriate Poet.


Best to all - Stay safe my friends...

Confession Tuesday - Crying over my Beer

Dear Reader:

It's been one book ordered, zero new books arrived, one nail in the Pickup tire, seven more days of the poetry-a day challenge, one Sunday breakfast out with the family and one week since my last confession.

I'm sitting here working on this with about a half a can of Hamm's beer. You decide if it's half empty or half full.  I'm extra tired tonight and somewhat cranky. I will confess that I am completely caught up on my poem drafts (1 per day) for the month. Just sharing that with you makes me feel slightly more up beat but I'm not going to let it go to my head.

Being cranky is probably to several things of which one is I am pretty wiped out.  This and I still need to send out a bio and a photo tonight for an upcoming event, and the fact that I am just flat out sick and tired of the President who ignores every bit of government ethics and is so cavalier about it and is generally on idiot. Today for example, he raised tariffs on soft lumber imported from Canada. He's already succeeded the Asian rim trade to China by cancelling the TPP. So, now let's start a trade war. I could go on with the Trump stuff that has me upset, but I confess I already dwelling too much on the buffoon.

Had a letter from Ken (my mentor) this week - couple more pieces of work that he has critiqued. I have a nagging question that I need to go to him with today or tomorrow. I confess it will probably wait till tomorrow because I want to make sure that I give it the attention it needs before I e-mail him and I would only  rush it tonight. (We are being honest  here, right)

Tupelo Press is having this fantastic sale on books. Like $16 books for five bucks! I ordered one during the past week that I am anxious to read but it has not arrived. I confess Amazon Prime makes you impatient when ordering elsewhere.

I am officially concerned about my San Francisco Giants....  though they did manage a 2-1 win over the Dodgers last night.  Injuries have taken a toll on this team in addition to some players that  they have lost this season to other teams.

I'm starting to feel like a Debbie Downer so I will close for now and finish crying over  my beer.

Stay Safe & live poetically!

Confession Tuesday- The Giants are Coming Edition

Dear Reader:

It's been one Federal and one State Tax Return filed, one phone call from Ken Waldman my  mentor, and another week of National Poetry Month since my last confession.

Let me get right to the failure at the outset here. I confess that I have fallen behind on my poem a day challenge. This weekend was full of things and you all know how things can get in the day.  Things stack up, things will barricade passage and things will keep you from writing. Damn things!  We picked up my mom and drove her to my uncle's house and had a family  get together with super nice weather. Grilled stakes, got full, sat around and talked about this and that and generally had a good time. Since my uncle Dave doesn't get out much he and my  mom seemed to enjoy the reconnect. But back to my writing....

I confess that I will make up the poems so that I am back on track. I will finish with 30 poems because 30 days has April...  I do not consider this a failure, simply a rerouting on the journey!

Ken and I talked by phone, I guess it was Thursday. talked about some material that he looked at and had emailed me ahead of time. Helpful conversation. I confess that it is hard to believe how fast this spring session is going.

I am excited today. My San Francisco Giants are in town to play the Kansas City Royals tonight and tomorrow night. If you  know me this makes perfect sense. If you are newer to this blog you might wonder why I'm in Kansas City and a Giants fan. I confess that  I have been a Giants fan for some 30 years. I prefer National League baseball. I dislike the DH (though we will be playing  with it these two games because when in Rome do as the Romans do.  Too bad because I would love to see Madison Bumgarner hit. They could pinch hit him tonight... they have don that before.  And yes, my Long Haired Dachshund Madison is named after the pitcher, Thank you!

 Telling you, I still get goosebumps when I see the Giants uniforms in person...

Until next time - be safe and celebrate poetry!

Confession Tuesday - Baseball Edition

Dear Reader:

It's been one winning Giant's home opener, 7 more days of Trumpation (Trump centered frustration) that I just want to go away, the start of module 4 on revision, the long awaited Good Bones episode of  Madam Secretary and and another week since my last confession.

Shall we start?

I'm hyped, no, pumped, ecstatic because tonight is an event at the Plaza Library where UMKC's Hadara Bar-Nadav and University of Central Missouri's Kathryn Nuemberger will speak WHAT MAKES A POEM WORK. needless to say I am planning to go. I confess that  I am familiar with Hadara Bar-Nadav's poetry and she rocks. I'm hoping for an insightful and inspiring evening. This is a week that I need some creative help!

For some time now I have been jealous of those who have workshop writing groups. I've participated in one several years ago that spanned genres and really was not quite at the level that I was hopping for. There is a promising possibility that some from our Writer 2 Writer Spring 2017 mentee group may undertake such a workshop group. Details are in early stage but there is significant interest from the other mentees. I confess that keeping some of the other mentees involved aside from our spring session is an added benefit to creating such a workshop group.

Poem-A-Day Challenge is draining my brain of subject matter. I confess that  I feel like I need something to shock my brain into high gear.

I am excited about the start of baseball season. I have long believed that poetry and baseball were one in the same. The game has all the beauty and grace of the game. I confess that I am a little concerned about  some aspects of my San Francisco Giants. Their bullpen is struggling. It needs to get it's shit together.

Lots of writing and writing related stuff I need to get done between now and the end of the weekend.

That's a wrap for now. Till next time, stay safe, have fun!

Confession Tuesday- 30 Poems-30 Days Edition

Dear Reader:

Hear I am once again at the confessional. It's been almost 2 regular season Giant's games, 2 Baumgarner homers,  4 day of April and 4 poems, one W2W mentee skpye conference chat, The start of module 4, 7 more days of an embarrassing  president, and a week since my last confession.

Reader, I'm 4 days into April and I'm doing it! Four poems, 4 days! Tonight, I worked late to finish but alas I am ready for tomorrow. I confess today I wrote without a prompt. Some days I want a prompt and some days I am just resistant to any prompt I find.  I don't  know why, just is.

I confess that I am elated that  Kansas City approved a bond issue for a new animal shelter tonight. It is so overloaded. While it's sad that only about 10% voted, I'm proud of those who did for supporting it since it required a super-majority to pass.

I am this week dealing with some real real personal crisis and I confess that  one minute it's had to do things and others not so much. Still I confess that I know on any given moment the emotions will be back and darkness crashes down on me.

I have started module 4 of the Writers 2 Writers program this week and the focus is on rewriting. I ended up feeling better at the end of Module 3 and I am anxious and hopeful about  this module.

I confess that I am still in awe of Marie Howe's Magdalene. What a collection of poems. What a book!

Don't ask me why, but I have been craving a Hamm's beer the last couple of days. I don't drink much beer these days. I'm more of a wine drinker and I don't do that much of it either. I can tell you the last time I had a Hamm's Beer was in Minneapolis at the AWP Conference in 2015.

That's it for this week...  Be Safe - Write or at least Read Poetry.

Confession Tuesday - Baseball is coming you cannot deny.

Dear Reader:

It's been one House Intelligence Committee Hearing, two winning games of Canasta with my mom, one episode of Madam Secretary, one trash pickup day,  a Saturday night poetry reading and an hour and a half phone call with my mentor since my last confession.

One of my highlights of any week is watching Madam Secretary.  The plot is always intriguing and grounded with a touch of reality. I give the writers and the actors a lot of credit. Often it will touch on something that we are simultaneously dealing with in the real world. I confess that is doesn't hurt that Tea Leon is Hot!

The proximity of April closing in leaves me with a decision to make. Do I undertake 30 poems in April. One a day? Sometimes I will make a pledge to do this. Sometimes I make it and sometimes I don't. Then starts the guilt. I confess this decision is a lot like the agony over  New Years Resolutions. Sometimes I just  try to take the pressure off by saying I don't need to make a resolution  to try and have a better new year. Just go with it. I've done the same with the Poem -A-Day.  Try, but don't  hold yourself to it... the world does not hinge on 30 poems.  But hey, I've got a couple more days to decide.

I ordered a copy of Marie Howe's new book, Magdalene. Howe is among my favorite poets and I confess that I am most anxious to read this book. It's release date was yesterday and I should have my copy by tomorrow. I Hope!

An hour and a half on the phone this week in a single call with my mentor and the talk revolved around craft, a particular poem draft I had written and poets read & reading. I confess that I have mixed feelings about the conversation.

Baseball season is closing in fast on us. You know those pictures of a space ship docking with another, or even the space station?  That's what it seems like. Going so fast two two will collide, and then in the end, it all looks like it is so soft and precise a fit together. You just  watch and say wow!  I confess I am in a wow mode!

That's it for this week -  Hope you all stay safe and happy...

Confession Tuesday - Corrosive Thought

Dear Reader:

It's been a couple more Trump campaign  links to Russia, a whole bunch of March Hoops, Two contacts with my mentor, a shitload of writing and maybe two promising drafts  and one week since my last confession.

For some reason the word cohesiveness came to me this week. I confess it was like it came out of nowhere and slapped me in the back of the head. So obviously I had it's full attention at this point.
I thought about what  it's like to be corrosive. I pictured a metal platform being eaten away by corrosive elements much the same way an old car will develop rust spots often called car cancer. Then I thought why a platform and I realized I was standing on it. Something clicked in my head and I decided this is what was holding me up... the platform. And to my dismay it was crumbling under me.

Sometimes I question my personal compass. Am I pointed the right direction? Now my fear was, am I standing where I shouldn't be? Am I not on a good platform or foundation for where I hope to be going?

I've written a lot this past week. I've not liked most of what I've written, and that is okay because that is going to happen. But I do get tired of it when this stretches on for some weeks  (which periodically happens) and it has a way of  making me second guess things. I confess that as the Writer 2 Writer module moves to # 3 where we focus on craft, I think maybe I am supposed to be having these self doubts and asking myself questions. Well, I confess it will give me a reason to talk craft with Ken.

On an uplifting note, one day this week I got a book and went out onto the deck and took in the springlike weather with a nice breeze. I read a while and then just listened to the birds and watched the trees in the breeze with their buds coming out.   On another, in early evening looking out westward I observed the sky as a mirage of the painted desert.  I confess life can amaze me even when I'm on the cusp of falling through my platform.

My best to each till next time...
 

Confession Tuesday - Late Edition

Dear Reader:

It's been numerous poetry drafts, 4 close to finished, two contacts with my mentor, another book read, 8 more days of that idiot as president, another missile launch by North Korea, and a week and one day since my last confession.

I confess that life is crazy. It's sad, it's frustrating, it's painful, and it's beautiful. The latter is what keeps me going.

I confess that I'm a day late with my confession but that's better than missing it for several weeks. Therefore I'll call it an improvement. I'll also just pretend that today is still Tuesday.

Are you writing more now but enjoying it less? I've written a lot  lately and maybe not enjoying it is not exactly the correct assessment but  truly I've not been ecstatic about the results. I'm getting some keepers but a lot of static as well. I confess that I'm wanting more keepers and much better keepers.

I've had two contacts with my mentor in the past eight days including one yesterday where I had some feedback on writing. We are moving into a new module this week and the focus is changing to Community and Connections. I'm anxious to interact with Ken on this topic because I feel like it is an important one and I confess it is one I feel somewhat inadequate about. I know Ken is not much into social media but he is a hands on person to person contact sort of guy. Exploring this will Ken I suspect will have some challenges because of his absence from social media. We'll see how it goes.

Another 8 days and we still have the idiot in the White House, or he may be playing golf. He does that a lot. Go figure he used to give Obama hell whenever Obama played. If he's not playing golf then he's tweeting. He's definitely our Commander-in-Tweet. He tweets some of the stupidest things.  He also uses it as an extension to his lying and makes him look like a fool.  North Korea lobbed some more missiles into the sea in Japanese water and he is so clueless.  His administration is so stalled up in it's own ineptness and unending string of ties to Russia that are resulting in numerous investigations. I confess I see no end of this in sight.

I seek and am finding things of beauty in this world. Sometimes you have to look hard but they are there. People helping people. Animals around us. Art people are making. My wife is working on an extraordinary beaded neckless with Tigers Eye.  I confess I will continue to seek good, beauty and art in the week ahead.

Until next time, enjoy each day!

Confession Tuesday - The Puppeteer Edition.

Dear Reader:

It has been seven long weeks since my last confession, to wit I must confess a whole lot of shit has happened.

We have watched the end of the Obama years in the white house. While there are I am sure dissenting opinions, I confess I am sorry to see them go.

Only 4 days in to the Trump presidency I am exhausted by the abundance of idiocy, mispronouncements, and lies. Every time he talks he says the same things over ad-nauseam. In four days time he has demonstrated that he will be a more authoritarian than I even dreamed. Cutting off or censoring communication between federal agencies and the American people. He's a control freak. Watching the body language during the inauguration between he and the First Lady I got the distinct impression that  he is a the same in their relationship.

The Women's March one the 21st was a bright spot because it demonstrates the the masses are not going to be complacent about his promises to end ACA, stop domestic abuse programs, cut women's health services, pimp for the NRA.

I confess that the future of the nation looks like it is female. I'm not at all bothered by that. We have more women in the house and Senate than  ever before. I see a couple of women who I believe are promising leaders on a national level.

Other that that, my life feels like it is in turmoil more days than not. I'm a couple weeks away from AWP17 and anxious about that and writing in general. I feel very much like an Expatriate, not belonging anywhere.

On an upbeat note, I'm going to be a grandfather for a 2nd time soon. Speaking of which, my granddaughter #1 Harper is here so I'm cutting this short to go see her.


Till next time - be safe.

Confession Tuesday - Pants on Fire Edition

Dear Reader:

It's been a long assed time since my last confession. All the way back to September 20th. Thanksgiving has come and gone since then. Election day has come and gone but the hangover remains. I've toiled away at writing. Some good and some not so good. But here I am today for the pants on fire edition of  confession Tuesday. Shall we begin?

I've tried to true to my writing and this past week I was able to pull together  two new poems and several other near poems. That is, they are close to being able to stand on their own words. I confess that I had been in a writing funk but  I am declaring it past!

Being busy with writing is good. Being busy with most anything is good. The repercussions of the Presidential election reverberate in my head and my stomach if I am not busy. Even then, I confess that I am not  able to completely shake the thought from my achy bones.

One of the sad things about this election (and there are so many) is that truth or fact was a casualty of the election. I've been involved in enough political campaigns over the years to know that sometimes truth gets stretched and bent a bit by some of the candidates. I confess in all the years of campaigns that I have been alive to observe and /or participate in, none have failed so miserably in the pursuit of truth.

This is no small thing that has occurred.  Concerted efforts to manufacture fake news was rampant. Lies were made by the Trump campaign and denied within fractions of an hour in spite of the existence of audio and or video feed that substantiated it. People were believing things that were so phony and outlandish and yet they ate this stuff up and looked for more.

One of the dictionaries that  each year crowns a new word as significant to the passing year selected "post-truth" as the word for this year. Who could argue against this selection?

I could go on and on about all the concerns I have about a Trump Presidency (and there are many) but the only thing I'm saying here is that anything closely resembling fact was brutally assaulted.  If truth is not dead after this election it has fallen and can't get up. Perhaps it can be placed on life support, but I must confess that I do not believe the prognosis for it's future are looking good at all.

There are two parties to this problem. One of course was the liar. But lies can be challenged. They can be scrutinized by fact checks. I don't know if a large portion of the electorate is lazy or if they are plain ignorant. Some, but not all of this crap was being slung around by white supremacist groups. What I don't know is how after such a blatant and high profile campaign of lies and fake news, how do you restore the rule of factuality to our political process? The cow is out of the barn, how do you return her to her former place?

I confess that as I leave you this evening, I sign off disturbed, concerned, and dismayed.  I have no answers.

All best to everyone!

Confession Tuesday - Time in a Bottle

Won't you come with me to the confessional?

Dear Reader:

It's been a week since my last confession and I am frankly amazed that I have been better about the regularity of this Tuesday ritual. Woo-hoo!

Sometimes when I am thinking about time I think of the Jim Croce and his song, Time In A Bottle from 1973. Perhaps for different reasons their are lines from this song that I relate to but I think the one that most often is looping over and over in my head is... "But there never seems to be enough time/To do the things you want to do, once you find them." I confess this truth is of the great cruelties of life.

Like so many people I sometimes would like a re-do button. I think of the past how I would have approached certain aspects of my life differently but if I could go back, would I really change anything. Lewis Carroll in Alice In Wonderland  reminds us that, "I can't go back to yesterday because I was a different person them," and true that is.

There were things I did in my youth that I definitely would not change. Those things that relate to my family, I would not want to erase any of that. No do-overs on who I married, our children, but I wonder, would the me back then even entertain things that the me right here in 2016 thinks he would want to do differently?

How much have I changed? How have those changes occurred over the years?  Of course I have to confess that I don't  have answers to those questions. Not really. I could wing it, give you some answer that might encompass some half truths but we are dealing with human nature and the scientific aspect in that field is, well non-existent or at least above my pay grade, as in God speak.

Perhaps too, I can confess that thinking about  life do-overs are another reason I have come to love writing. We can create people and breath some of ourselves into them. We can control their fate, what makes them tick. Change them on a whim in so many ways. It is perhaps the only control that I can exert over  things in any reality other than writing.

Until next time, may all your minutes be rich...

Confession Tuesday - I Have My Two Buddies Edition

Dear Reader:

Won't you come with me to the confessional.....

Reader, it's been one Chiropractic visit with Trigger Points, one visit to mom's, one documentary movie, one dinner out with my sweetie, one meeting of K.C. Metro Verse, two Power Ball tickets, two new poetry drafts, one vacation day and one trash day since my last confession.

• I've been using a Bullet Journal for something like 8 months now. The thing about it is that  it remains in flux. I'm still making  modifications in exactly how I use it. I confess there is a bit of redundancy in it because I still sink my  digital calendar and use a Franklin Planner at my regular job. Still, I do believe this has been helpful in several ways, not the least of it is giving me a quick visualization of where to go next in my tasks during the day. I am thinking of gravitating away from the BuJo for my regular work stuff and focusing more on the intersections of my writing and personal life. But hey, I may change my mind on that - like I say it's a process, everything is in flux.
• I am not generally one of these people who blames all kinds of shit on the media. I am a firm believer in a Free Press and I believe it's a hallmark of any democracy. I have become somewhat cynical of so called news these past few weeks and while I blame some of the mainstream press, it has occurred to me that one of the prices we are paying for the internet is the blurred lines from what is news and what is pure made up shit with absence of sources. Places like Breitbart News, and there are a host of others that routinely carry some of the most bat shit crazy stuff that has no reputable citation to back it us. Additionally, there is often not a shred of common sense involved in the stories. What irritates me is that people tweet and Facebook many of these stories and the get reported over and over until half of the non-thinking population sincerely believes the shit and are basing their November vote on it. I confess that there is truly no safeguard in democracy for the participation by persons that don't know their brain from their ass hole.
• I confess I've had some heightened interest in Memoirs of late. I want to read the book The Art of Memoir - Mary Karr 
• I feel blessed tonight, both Silas and Madison are in my studio as I write this,  Just chilling out with me. I confess that Cathy is probably enjoying quiet time watching TV without the trying to climb all over her. 

After a brief shower, I believe there has been a break in the rain and I probably should run these two dogs out to do their business for the night. 

Until next time, live in the now, and be safe!