Grace comes in all shapes…

"Even so, I must admire your skill. You are so gracefully insane."     — Anne Sexton

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Iran and the Brutality of Stoning

Sakineh Mohammadi Ashtiani is a 43 year old Iranian woman who faces death by stoning after being convicted of adultery. She has already spent five years in prison and received 99 lashes for alleged adultery, the issue of her innocence or guilt not withstanding, the fact that Iran would in this day and age stone people to death is brutally abhorrent. It speaks loudly about the barbaric state of the Iranian government.


People around the world should speak up concerning this and can do so by signing the Save Sakineh Petition and or the Protest e-mail here: International Committee Against Stoning. 


It would not hurt to share these kinks with friends or via twitter or facebook, etc.

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Sakineh Mohammadi Ashtiani  stoning   Iran


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Confession Tuesday

      It’s late Tuesday and I’m rushing to get my weekly confession done before I turn into a pumpkin at midnight….

      Hurry with me to the confessional, no time to waste--

 

Dear Reader-

A week ago we lost some channels on cable.  It’s been a frustrating week dealing with the cable people with various different stories as to the problem but still no resolve. I won’t go into the gory details but the short version is we are still where we were a week ago after spending multiple hours on the phone. Now we are awaiting a technician on Saturday because they now have run out of explanations.  All this is to say that I confess that I do not enjoy these kinds of drawn out things. I like to think that I can be a patient person and in many respects I believe I am, sometimes maybe even to a fault, but I’ve lost my patience on this situation.  I’ve almost lost my desire for cable as well.

                                              ~0~

I confess that I may be a _________snob.  (insert your choice of word)  My wife has accused me of being a poetry snob, a wine snob and I admit I am very likely a coffee snob. In the case of the latter for example I do not care for the coffee we have at the office. I’ve come to the conclusion that one of the reasons I am hard to satisfy when it comes to coffee, it comes down to the fact that I’d rather drink espresso that coffee.  I’m probably a wine snob too because I tend to favor white wines… especially Chardonnays and prefer Northern California to most imports. There are some good Northwest Chardonnays as well.

As for poetry…. ok, I confess I do have my idiosyncrasies about what I like and what I dislike, but what poetry lover doesn't? Does that make me a poetry snob?

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Temporarily

they lie
curled and swirled
in a basket of labor.

They smell of the day;
cigarettes and coffee
the grass and dog,
the sweat, the sex-
a scratch and sniff of where
they've been.


The coloreds and whites,
paisleys, printed and denims-
they are all mingled together.
A collage of color and odor


to be segregated later
into lights and darks.
To be centrifuged
to separate and flush
the day from the garment.


Michael A. Wells © 2010

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Photographing the Mind

I heard an NPR piece this morning about Jennifer Karady a photo artist who has an exhibit titled "Soldiers' Stories of Iraq and Afghanistan," appearing at SF CameraWork in San Francisco.  Her approach can be found within  the juxtaposition that presents itself when a soldier returns to what I will call the “normalcy” of life back at home, but retains the searing images in the mind that have come with their war experiences.
I’m curious what others who see these photographs feel about this art work, so go check them out on line and tell me what they do for you.
A link to the NPR Story can be found here.
Jennifer Karady’s own web site.

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Happy Birthday Shannon!

 

My middle daughter was a 4th of July baby so besides the 4th we celebrate her birthday each 4th.  However this 4th she is overseas, although she will be leaving soon to return home. So Happy Birthday all the way down under to Australia & have a safe trip home!  Mom and I are having strawberry shortcake in your honor. ;)

A poetic treat…

 

This video is Susan Rich reading one of her poems from THE ALCHEMIST’S KITCHEN.  It was a real treat to hear her read this piece.  I’ve borrowed it from her blog and hopeful she will not mind.

The poem is titled "At Middle Life: A Romance"  and what I like about it from a purely technical point of view is that it combines all three components that I believe complete a poem (unless of course you are dealing with something experimental) and they would be a cadence or rhythm, musicality, and just the right language in the best order for the human senses  to be present in the poem.

On occasion I seem to get maybe two of these three components together, hitting all three is the objective I long for.  In the absence of achieving it, the next best thing is finding one another poet succeeded at.  Thanks Susan! As a bonus I am a romantic at heart and find this one to speak to me personally.

 

 

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Morning Journal Entry

      I don’t know the time which is only important for for what I don’t know.

The back yard breeze across the deck gently pats my face and the shade moves about with no more exertion than meandering dogs with inevitability seemingly low in priority.  

It will not be like this all day- a value added fact. It is for the present just what it is and I accept the gift.

Between last night and this morning a poem was born of observation. It seems my mind was open to the possibility last night and still graciously accepting enlightening thoughts this morning. The summer breeze clears the mind to make room for the possible. 

Unconscious Mutterings - week 387

You Say - I think....

1.Collectors :: bill

2.Passion :: fruit

3.Winner ::  race

4.Uninhibited :: inland

5.Challenge :: court

6.Self :: exam

7.Your :: money

8.Viewer :: discretion

9.Random :: selection

10.Vice ::  president

Get your own list here

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Confession Tuesday

 

Whew… I nearly forgot Confession Tuesday! Off to the confessional…

Dear Reader-

I confess that I’m pretty happy with myself today.  I anticipated a rough work day and I did have a lot to do- but I did not let it kick my but! 

It’s easy in my work to look at days that did not quite go as I planned and get down on myself. I’m all for self evaluation but seriously it’s hard on even the best planned days to stay on cue because so much of what I do is crisis driven and out of my control. So when I have a day like today I may be tired when it’s over but still it’s nice to feel good about the outcome.

                                       ~0~

Klaus is making such progress in his recovery and while his legs were for the most part paralyzed between three and four weeks ago, he is now able to rise and stand on his own for three or four minutes at a time. He is trying to walk but it starts out as more of a crawl. and as he gets himself up in his excitement and momentum he will topple over at times. I confess that I am excited to see him trying so hard and having some success, but it breaks my heart when he stumbles. I know he has to do this if he is going to walk anything close to how he did before his injuries but I confess it is sometimes hard to watch. He works so hard. By the end of the day his little body is really taxed.It all reminds me of when the kids were small. As a parent you hate to see them tumble and get hurt, but you know you have to let them learn and that involves falling down too.

 

                                      ~0~

I confess this past week has pretty much been a bust as far as writing.  Not getting near enough done. I further confess that the past month I have blown off submissions. I’m not happy about either of these things. I confess that I am well aware that the process of writing and achieving publication is work and requires a discipline and I can honestly say I’ve not exhibited much of this in writing the past week.

                                   ~0~

I confess that dinner was pretty good tonight in spite of the fact that I was working from pretty much bare cabinets.

It’s 10:30 and If I hurry up I can still carve out a half hour or so to write tonight!

 

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Writer's Meme

This was on Book of Kells a while back and I'm just now getting around to answering it. If you haven't already answered these then consider yourself tagged if you're reading this.


1. What's the last thing you wrote? - A text message to my wife.


2. Is it any good? - I suppose for what it was intended. We aren't talking the Great Amerinan Novel.


3. What's the first thing you ever wrote that you still have? – I honestly can't don’t recall.


4. Favorite genre of writing? - Poetry.

5. How often do you get writer's block? - At least once every three or four months I get what I’d refer to as “writers funk” which starts like this: What I write would irk a bird if I lined his/her cage with it. Sometimes it lasts days or even weeks. In some instances (though rare) it will ultimately paralyze me and leave me in a writers block.

6. How do you fix it? – Usually two things. Hold my nose and keep writing to push my way through it. I also turn to reading several poets that I admire to remind myself that the printed word can be a powerful thing.

7. Do you save everything you write? – Any more, yes. I’d say that I capture about 98% of it, though it is not especially well organized unless it’s something I believe has promise.

8. How do you feel about revision? -  It would be the only things that saves me 85 % of the time. It’s a necessity I not only accept but endorse.


9. What's your favorite thing that you've written?  Oh my. Hard to say - I guess without dwelling on it probably "Sport Utality Poem" or "Night Wish".


10. What's everyone else's favorite thing that you've written?  Probably "Tiananmen Mother" or "We Missed".


11. What writing projects are you working on right now? I have an on again off again manuscript that becons me at times. The working title is "File Folder" which is the name of what I would envision as that title poem. Something I wrote several years ago. Every few months I try changing the concept of it. It truly has more control of me then I of it.


12. What's one genre you have never written, and probably never will? - Horror. It's very likely I never will.


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Dull like a brother-in-law in front of a TV

 I always enjoy being introduced to a new poet that is especially able to captivate my attention from the start.  Not every poet is like that, but I often find that an excellent place to go looking for such inspiring wordsmiths is New Letters on the Air.

I’ve had two recent discoveries from New Letters interviews.  One is C. Dale Young who was interviewed by Robert Stewart and the other is Martha Serpas who was interviewed by Angela Elam. Today I want to talk a bit about Serpas because her interview especially hit home with me on several levels.

Serpas grew up in the bayou country of Louisiana. Many of her poems poignantly cut to the heart of the crisis of survival of the very land that she considers her home.

One of her books, The Dirty Side of the Storm was written prior to Katrina with the exception of one poem. But what I heard of the poems from the interview give a personality to the nature that makes up the complex Louisiana gulf basin. Serpas visits the erosion land in the basin with an eye on the threats to its very existence from a variety of man made encroachments including but not limited to the many canals that have been cut through the area for ease of access to the many oil operations.  Of course, if these poems predate Katrina, they also predate the existing BP oil crisis.

In her poem The Water, she has so many minglings of words that I just love. You hear them and they are have an almost living & breathing quality upon the page.  One such example….  “like a dull brother-in-law in front of a TV. He means something to somebody— but not you, not just now.” The poem can be seen in its entirety here and even better can be heard as well.
What I love about her poems is the way she seems to put man smack dab in the middle of nature with all the venerability the becomes both man and nature at the same time. The interdependence that cannot be denied. There too is a spirituality to her writing that is evident in seeking, finding, and losing.

In closing this post I’m sharing a link to the LA Gulf Response that Martha Serpas recommends and check out the video trailer for a documentary that will be released later this year titled Veins In the Gulf.

         















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My desk at the office

 

This would be one of my more organized mornings. You can actually see wood surface.

I’ve decided to start my morning at work reading a poem before I start the day. I’m trying this because I’ve found that before my writing sessions doing this gets me relaxed and in a creative mindset and figure doing the same before beginning my regular job may well have similar benefits.  I’ll let you know how I feel it is going in a few weeks.

 

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Emily’s secret love - The Boston Globe

 

Emily’s secret love

 

Following her father’s death, poet Emily Dickinson did something unthinkable in his lifetime: She began to romance her father’s best friend.

Emily’s secret love - The Boston Globe

Check out this article – I’m curious what people think about the revelation against the backdrop of conventional view of Dickinson?

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Confession Tuesday – Anniversary Edition

   It’s Tuesday again. That means confession time. Come with me to the confessional…











Dear Reader:

Today is the 36th Anniversary for Cathy and I.  While 36 years can seem like a long time, it’s not long enough….

I confess that I wish I could tell Cathy that I won the Power Ball Lottery last night but alas I cannot.  I buy tickets because she asks me to. I’ve never been crazy about state lotteries. I imagine that many people use what is otherwise non-expendable cash to chase a win / dream.  I hear stories about people who win the lottery and their lives are ruined. Cathy works very hard… I know lots of people work hard but she works especially long hours and I confess I would love to say to her look, you don’t have to do this anymore.  She tells me if we were to win, we would not be one of those couples who watch their lives crumble around them. I confess that I believe she is serious about this.

I confess I made a run to the Evil Empire last night. I haven’t been to Wal-mart in a long time. I try not to take my business there. I was a Target earlier but realized we needed something much later at home after Target was closed.

Amid the World Cup hoop-la I confess to being a scrooge.  When I was about 13, I played soccer. My heart wasn’t in it. I wanted to play ice hockey and ultimately did get to for a time but I always found it hard to figure out why people would run around a soccer field for so long, expending so much energy to personally put the ball in play 3 to six times.  The other thing is that there was so much talk about how Soccer was going to take the US by storm. By Storm!?  Ok, that was  44 years ago. Hello!

I confess I’m not really in as sour a mood as this post likely sounds like. Really, this is a happy day!!!  I have the best wife who loves me in spite of my flaws. I confess I am so very fortunate.

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Unconscious Mutterings Week 386

 

 

You Say… I Think:

• Executive ::  decision
• Director ::  conductor
• Dress ::  rehearsal
• Studio :: apartment
• Accountant ::  business
• Unit ::  measure
• Engaged :: couple
• Safety ::  inspection
• Post ::  fence
• Dialogue ::  manuscript

Get your own list here

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Father’s Day Post

  It’s always a thrill to hear from my kids (if I can still refer to them as such) so on a day in which I’ve been able to see two and talk with the other two, the day is a blessing. Still, there is a sadness that comes with two of them living in other cities.  In the day of cell phones, text messages it does seem to shorten the distance a little.

As a father’s day gift I received a digital camera. It’s really nice, but I don’t understand why I can’t call or text on it since I can shoot photos on my cell phone.;)

Actually, I’m pretty sure that the fact that I took so many photos on my phone seemed quite pathetic to everyone concerned so it was decided I needed a camera.
I do enjoy taking photos. I think photography is a great tool for poets.  Going out on a photo shoot can be a way of looking for ways to see your surroundings in different ways. Isn’t that what we so often do in poetry? Look for new ways to see things, that we might broaden our minds?

One way I’m looking at things from a different view this father’s day is by thinking about my own father. While that may seem seem odd to most, it is outside the norm for me.

My father and I had no contact during my formative years. It was not until I was around 19 that I recall seeing him. And in the few times we saw each other or corresponded after that it was generally an awkward association. Not something that I think either of us could be faulted for under the circumstances but sad none the less. He passed away in 2005 and I was unaware of it at the time. Our relationship or lack of one actually has profoundly impacted my life. In different times that impact looked quite differently to me.

But I will come back to father’s day now for a moment because it has always been about me (at least since I’ve had children) and prior to that it was just a day. This sadly makes me wonder would it would have been like to have that kind of day where I would have focused on a father.  To be the grateful son.

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Dickinson on love and life

I argue thee that love is life. And life hath immortality.  - Emily Dickinson

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Thought For Friday

"Uniformity, in its motives, its goals, its far-ranging consequences, is the natural enemy of poetry, not to mention the enemy of trees, the soil, the exemplary life therein."  — C.D. Wright

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Sometimes you have to find humor

 

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