Confession Tuesday - Federal Workers on My Mind

Dear Reader:

It's been two snow & ice storms, four poems submitted to one venue, plane tickets to AWP19 bought,  more presidential candidates announcing than I can remember, lots of reading and lots of writing since my last confession.

I mentioned in my last post my new leather Journal and promised a picture. It is etched with the Southern Pacific railway in the greater San Francisco area. Pretty Cool. This journal will be a companion to my other leather writing journal I have been carrying for years now.

I confess that I waited a bit too long to get plane tickets for Portland and as a result, I did not have good return trip choices. I will do better next time.

Going through another of those writing funks where I am not happy with much of what I put on a page. Of course, this is not the first time this has happened and I confess that I am well aware that it will happen again. I'm writing a lot trying to push through it. It's the only way I know to get back on track. Still, it is frustrating when this happens and you wonder if you will ever put another poem on a page that you are happy with.

Was anyone else appalled at Vice President Pence's lame, comparison of Donald Trump with Martin Luther King? Okay, I confess it was far more than lame. Honestly, it was sacrilege.

My thoughts and prayers go out to the many federal employees that are going without checks. Many, not only with no income but still driving to work every day to do the important things like keeping us safe in air travel, fighting crime, prosecuting criminals, protecting our shorelines and borders. I confess that it makes me angry that the Senate Majority Leader conflates his role with that of the Administration and will not allow for votes unless the president agrees with a particular measure. I confess I want to vote against McConnell a gazillion times. Unfortunately, he is not from my state and even one vote by me against him would be voter fraud.

Tomorrow is my weigh in at WW.  Last week I had dropped 12.4 lbs since I started. I Always feel like I am going to gain on the morning of the weigh-in. I confess that it's probably a paranoia thing more than anything else.

I am still morning the loss of Mary Oliver. Along that line,  I morbidly wonder what other poet greats we will lose this year. I saw a poet tweet from Kelli Russell Agodon this week that mentioned how it would be good to show more appreciation for our poets while they are living.  My reply tweet was, Amen!

Until next time, be safe and be of joy!

Confession Tuesday - KC Winter Storm Edition

Kansas City Snow and Ice over weekend causes damage,

Dear Reader:

It's been two bouts of viral crud, I bout of Pink Eye, one massive snowstorm, another in a long string of days thinking about those federal workers that haven't got  checks and concerned for their plight, one new exciting  journal, (birthday gift), speaking of which another birthday, a lot of writing, daily reading, a lot of hand wringing as I decide on airline & flights for AWP conference, and two weeks since my last confession.


So, just so you know it, I don't need any more health issues this year. I think I've had my quota in the first two weeks.  I confess that I am finally on the mends from my second upper respiratory viral crap and my Pink Eye that developed on Friday is now clear.  I've decided that  Grand Kids are the gift that just keeps giving. They visit often and I've had just about everything they have had except maybe diaper rash.

I got an awesome journal cover for my birthday from my wife.  She gave me an incredible leather journal many years ago that  I still carry. The new one has a San Francisco theme to it and I need to shoot a picture of it an post if in a day or two. The first one is not being retired. I confess there is room for two journals in my life.

The weekend storm wreaked havoc on the city this weekend. Lots of tree damage as they were weighted down with ice and the snow dumped on top of that. Lots of broken branches, Power lines and cable down.  The cable between our house and the pole is down in the yard. Still working, thankfully. We have not lost power, but many have. We have more winter storm headed our way and I confess I am saying prayers, crossing fingers, that hopefully, we will not lose power on the next storm through here.

The winter storm has had a captivating beauty to it in addition to the negative aspects. You probably don't need to be a poet to appreciate it, but I confess I am happy to be one just the same.

The weather is good for reading. I'm reading  Lincoln in the Bardo by George Saunders. It is a most interesting read. Written in kind of a monolog form with lots of snippets of researched writing surrounding the day of the death of Willie Lincoln, the son of the President. There is a bit of darkness to this story but I must say that I am enjoying the graceful way that  Saunders has chosen to communicate the spectacle of Lincoln and his dead son's post-death encounters. I confess that there is much about this book that is out of the mainstream but I love it n some quirky way.

Pricing and selecting two tickets for Portland AWP is nerve-racking. There are not enough options on Southwest which is my preferred airline so I am having to expand my search and options. I confess that I am anxious for the trip but not the planning.

That's about it for tonight. Until next time, stay safe and reads lots of poetry.

Test Driving Other People's Poems or Becoming Someone Else's Noun

Last night I tried climbing into another poet's poems with the idea of taking them for a text drive. How do they Feel?

I kicked the tires to see if any lines fell off. I put myself in the place of the people or things [in the poems]. I became a number of different nouns. How did being a Birch tree make me feel in these circumstances? I need to do this exercise more often.*



*Journal post the morning of 1-30-14

Doggie Angst

After a day of behaving beautifully while men were trimming the maples in our back yard for about 4-1/2 hours, in early evening I left my journal on the bed and went out back with my wife for maybe 15 minutes. Upon return, Mo had decided to add a few non-verbal thoughts to my journal.  Fortunately he was kind to the leather and just worked on a couple of pages. I suppose he was expressing himself so how angry can I be. He just needs to have his own journal for the future. Mine is not meant to be a collaborative venture.

Is there a mysterious personification of you in your life?

It would be curious to discover who it is to whom one writes in a diary. Possibly to some mysterious personification of one's own identity.  ~ Beatrice Webb

Another Journal Bites the Dust

Sunday evening and I am bemoaning the near end of the weekend. I think mostly because last week seemed like five Mondays in a row. I anticipate this week being pretty busy too It seems my caseload at work has risen with no consideration for my already significant commitments. There should be laws against such things.

Oh, before I forget... Happy Birthday to Ivy - She's 34 according to her own account. My God, I barely remember 34.

There are lots of sirens very nearby - I presume by both the sound and the numbers they are fire trucks. We don't hear them out here as often as back in the city. Certainly not a cluster of so many at once. Certainly makes one pause with some prayerful thoughts. The dogs too seem unnerved by the sound.

I am about to finish filling up yet another journal. This latest one was started on September 29th, 2007 and having only like two pages left, I'll likely finish this one off yet tonight. I was looking back at some of my work in the previous journal recently. It always seems to feel a bit peculiar looking at things you've written in the past. Since many of my drafts start in their crudest form in the journal before subsequent revisions make it to the computer it can be an eye opener sometimes reading these things. You just have to wonder where your mind was sometimes.

My side bar so badly needs changes. For one thing, the blog listings is so outdated. There are several on there I used to read but don't any longer because... well, mostly because some of them haven't been updated since middle of last year. It's time for those to come down. Also, there are a few more worthwhile blogs that I try to catch on s somewhat routine basis. Also, if you have linked to Stickpoet and I've not reciprocated, drop me a note so you can be added.

I'll close tonight with these words from John Steinbeck... "I've seen a look in dogs' eyes, a quickly vanishing look of amazed contempt, and I am convinced that basically dogs think humans are nuts."

Bush Presses Congress on New Eavesdropping Law - New York Times

Bush Presses Congress on New Eavesdropping Law - New York Times:

WASHINGTON, Oct. 10 — President Bush prodded Congress on the issue of eavesdropping today, warning that he will not sign a new law unless it confers immunity on the telecommunications utilities that helped the National Security Agency eavesdrop without warrants."

Why should a telecommunication company that gave private information about millions of U.S. Citizens to the government without a court order be given immunity from civil action? I'm sorry Mr. President, but even YOU are not above the law!

Giving them immunity says to everyone that it's ok in the future to violate people's civil liberties because if the President wants it, he'll just cover your ass.

Life & Writing

As time goes on, it seems more difficult to separate writing from life. In fact the demarcations are so finite that I don’t often attempt to split them apart. I have drawn the line recently for example when my wife and I went out to eat for our anniversary. If there is a point of separation, it would tend to come at times when we are doing something together. Still, her presence in the same room alone will not stop the clock.

Besides the physical act of writing, there are many periods of time that my mind is divided and sharing space with what is happening around me. I have found it beneficial to allow myself to receive events and conversations each day within the context that some event(s) or conversation could be the springboard for some future creation.

I’m not sure about most writers, but I am aware of others who have or do utilize such an approach to glean experiences or insights to augment their creative processes in writing. It is clear both from reading the journals and biographical information on Sylvia Plath that she was ever vigilant in this manner. I certainly don’t pretend to have mastered the process to her degree success, but I believe that to ignore this avenue altogether would invite so many lost opportunities.

The fact that I have been able to do much initial work within my journal as opposed to the computer has certain portability advantages. It clearly enhances the ability to be able catch things that might otherwise be lost with other fleeting thoughts. I am not underestimating the value of the PC to writers and would never want to return to pre-computer days.

In spite of this integration of day-to-day life with writing, I believe it is necessary to find the way to step back from time to time. It is just like leaving your work at the office. It is healthy to have that break from time to time. Writing is no different. It’s just that I realize the value in the connectivity of life to writing and want to make sure to allow some of it in.

Father's Day

Couple of items from Father's Day.... A Waterman Phileas fountain pen -burgundy and black marbled ( picture doesn't do it justice) and my ASU ball cap complete with "Sparky" the Sun Devil. By the way, ASU won their opening round of the College World Series Saturday. They play again tonight.

The pen is from my lovely wife. It is gorgeous and way more pen then I would have bought myself. Writes as smooth as honey. It will certainly make both journaling and hand written poetry drafts much more enjoyable.

Speaking of Father's Day.... Enjoyed this piece about Donald Hall & the poems he wrote on the passing of his father. While he write about the experience right away, the poem took 17 years to complete.

From my Journal - 5-22

(Time) A sort of invisible ink
Of the present- seen only
In light of the past

Don't Miss Tomorrow's Interview

Christine Hamm has been at it again! She's got another one.... Children Having Trouble with Meat. No, I haven't read this one yet, but when have I seen something of Christine's that I didn't Like?

Just about completed another Journal last night. Flipping through the pages here is a taste of journal niblits:

• doubt became his face / unable to hide / in the shadow /of five o'clock (March 18)
• when the night broke down / and the band packed / disappearing into the tangle / spilled on the streets (March 23)
• Deliberation that grew moss up the north side (April 1)
• She wore the naked moonlight / across breasts of a woman / unmasked of self-conscious (approx April 11)
• {note to self} authors hear voices - sure we do ::grin:: ( April 28th)
• yesterday my body ached /of rubber band mussels / wound tightly in corset knotted tissue (May 11)
• A poet's voice- that of a woman / of color- A slice of life on a wing ( May 19th)

This of course means that I will get to take out my new crisp journal and start scribbling.

I have a great treat for readers tomorrow. An interview with Aleah Sato!

Ground Clutter

Rain and thunder rolled in this morning. A cold chill hangs in the air. It is quiet here, I've already taken the car in for routine maintenance bright and early this morning and back home already. So starts the weekend.

While in the waiting room at the dealership, I let my mind take hold of my pen and scratched out some stuff in my journal. Nothing spectacular came of it.

I kept thinking of things going on around the world this week:

• I thought of Vice President Cheney and I had to ask myself what drives this man to to be so caustic and discordant? His remarks aimed at both China and Iran are not helpful to constructive dialogue.
• I'm wondered what was going through the heads of the Jurors in the I. "Scooter" Libby trial?
• I envisioned the rats running around the NYC Taco Bell. "Which way to the boarder?"
• And the building at Walter Reed Army Hospital with U.S. soldiers who returned home from war facing struggles with psychological issues and housed in deplorable conditions and primarily caring for themselves.

You may think I have too much time on my hands. Perhaps, but in the quiet of a Saturday morning this poet is finding it hard to clear his head of ground clutter.

Ahh ~ Friday at last...

The week is coming to an end like a locomotive pulling into a small town station... the brakes stalling the wheels and the metal to metal glide amid all the steam and noise, the motion continues a bit longer but at a declining speed. Then the jolt and there you are. It has stopped.

I definitely feel the holiday upon us. Two Christmas parties yesterday. One for the office and one an evening at the Writer House. I read a couple of poems. I'll have Christmas shopping to do this weekend.
There is a mixture of a sort of manic world and this inner calling for peace and tranquility. They do not mix well together. I suppose that is would support James Hillman's assessment when he said, "Slowness is basic to the notion of melancholy from the very beginning. Mania is often described in psychiatry by the absence of sadness." When the world is in chaos it tends to overlook the sadness of war and famine and sickness, and so on. It is at these very moments that I believe mankind needs poetry the most. But no, we somehow find it easier to be numb to the horror and immune from humor as well. We are just to busy to let silly emotions get in the way of anything.
Bits from my journal this week:

• A fog of silence settles in the gully sunken between us.
• The reeds of hope / sprouting runners / travel across the anticipatory terrain
• I am transparent, here but out of sight.
• Nights of curview / days strung between roads / boardered by odds / not quite palatable / survival will apply to travelers / moving between strife // What are the options? / a sigh of indigestion /rather resignation of lost causes / St Anthony Pray for us. //

~0~

The President is not going to make "rash decisions" on Iraq. He has moved back the time for his anouncement to after the first of the year. Some military people are now calling for more troops. {sigh} The President has rejected major parts of the ISG. He talks about changing stratagy. I'm thinking that chage is going to look a lot more like "stay the course."

Question for Iraqi citizens. Are you better off now than you were four years ago?

~0~

Driving through Taco Bell - "Hold the green onions, hold the lettuce. Uh, come to think of it, just hold my order."

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Latest Iraq War Deaths to date since U.S. Invasion in March 2003:
U.S.-LED COALITION FORCES = United States 2,941 / Britain 126 / Other nations 121
IRAQIS = Military Between 4,900 and 6,375 / Civilians Between 50,585 and 56,083
[source]