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.