Confession Tuesday

Tuesday again...  I'm off to the confessional... hurry along.

Dear Reader-

It's been a week since my last confession and I'm here before you with much to lay out on the table.

Last night Monday Night Football came to Kansas City. It's another sign that the baseball season is on the way out.  I've never been a big football fan. It's baseball that has my heart. A number of years ago I was into the 49ers Football when Montana was quarterback and before that Minnesota when Tarkington was QB but never have I felt about football the way I do baseball. I confess that I often get cranky about it encroaching on the last weeks of baseball.  And while I am feeling that way right this moment, my son texted me a few weeks ago and told me to keep the date open of the Chiefs-49ers game because he had tickets for us. Ok, I have to confess right here in front of the Gods  of the the ball diamond I'm excited about a 49ers game with my son.  I'm still thinking football has no business sharing the limelight with baseball as the season climaxes in the fall classic. I confess this leaves me feeling schizophrenic.

Tonight I attended a poetry group meeting of some friends. I was pretty taxed after work and a part of me just wanted to skip it but I confess it was nice reading poems and doing some writing from a prompt.
I shared a poem each by Marie Howe and Susan Rich. Also some of my own writing.

One of my writing friends named Pat has a book that has a page to read a day. She finds it especially uplifting and each day writes her own thoughts and observations in the margins, and these sometimes turn into poems. Do any of us write in margins she inquired? I confess to marginal writing on occasion.

Well, I'd like to confess to something that raised a few eyebrows  or started some gossip but alas, you just got all the juice for the week. Until next time, thanks for listening.

Love this quote

Ink on paper is as beautiful to me as flowers on the mountains; God composes, why shouldn't we? ~Terri Guillemets

Magpie Tales 31

I Saw


Framed within
weathered window panes
in the late afternoon
when shadows and light
toy with us—

filtered through a grotto
of trees reflected in glass;
I saw a veiled mother
awash in Kodachrome
as I imagined she might
appear to three children.

 
 
 
© 2010 Michael A. Wells
 
Magpie Tales 31

Examining the Fear Factor

Reading Susan Rick's recent post with excerpt from her interview struck me because of her wealth of  personal experience and  her own cultural background. What she says on this subject is profoundly significant.

HUMANITIES WASHINGTON: There's Nothing to Be Afraid Of

Confession Tuesday - Troubled by posts edition

My calendar says today is Tuesday but my body thinks it is Monday. I suppose this should be a good thing because it means the next weekend is a day closer but in reality it probably means that come Thursday or Friday it will seem like the week is in s-l-o-w  m-o-t-i-o-n. Since it is none the less Tuesday, let’s head to the confessional.


Dear reader-

I have a confession to make. Even as this blog passes its seven year anniversary, and the main theme of it is poetry, I have difficulty posting poetry on it. I know that sounds crazy but let me explain.

Sometimes I’ve posted snippets from my journal and occasionally they are a line or two that I really like (feel comfortable with) but I don’t often post poems that I believe are my best work. So I confess that readers are often short changed (hanging my head in shame) because the better stuff that I write is held back to be sent off as submissions to this journal and that journal. Maybe in reading some of my writing here you’ve already thought, “boy, is this the best he can do?” Anyway, aside from things already published elsewhere first, I’ve probably been pretty selective in what I’ve posted. This makes me feel disingenuous, and every once and a while it really bothers me that I am feeling such.

I suspect there are others who do the same, but I have no way of knowing this for sure. Of is they do, that they too are troubled by this.

I suppose I should be putting my best foot forward in everything I write and post. I should take the position that if I would not submit this poem to a journal it should not go on this blog post. But of course what would that leave me to sending out very little or I’d have to be a lot more prolific with dazzling material. You see the dilemma.

The Magpie posts that I have started doing may be a way of feeling better about this. I say that because if I write something from a Magpie Tales prompt then I already have decided it goes on the blog. These pieces are not ever planned to become submittable material but in creating them I always hope to hit upon something that would work – should work and hopefully does work well. I don’t know for sure if over time these will appear to me to ease what I described as above and that I will feel more straightforward about my writing I expose on the blog, but I can hope.

Thanks for listening.

Thought for the week ahead...

It is perfectly okay to write garbage--as long as you edit brilliantly.  - C. J. Cherryh

Speak Out Against Hate

There is a part of me that hesitates to mention this because I'm reluctant to want to give theses people any more publicity than they have already garnered.  This reluctance however is overridden because of the insanity displayed by the actions of these few individuals and the degree to which their actions incite and foster misinformation and hatred in this country.  It would seem that we are not exactly in short supply of ignorance these days and I believe ignorance is a dangerous thing.

The Dove World Outreach Center in Gainesville, Fla. has called for a 'Burn the Koran Day.' It says the burnings will be held on church grounds "in remembrance of the fallen victims of 9/11 and to stand against the evil of Islam.

It seems incredible that persons professing to be Christians would demonstrate such a hateful act considering:

• A fundamental precept of the Christian faith is to love not hate your neighbor.
• That there are 9-11 families that have openly asked that this day not be politicized.
• That there are Muslims that were also killed in 9-11. Both victims in the Twin Towers and first responders.
• They surely would not appreciate someone else hosting a massive Bible burning day.
• The the actions do not foster peace and understanding but rather hate and more ignorance and revenge.
• This is one more act that causes persons around the world to view Americans in a negative light.

I suspect the Church believes in what they are doing but there are perhaps other motives. They sell T-shirts at $20 a pop as wells as other items. The city of Gainsville has denied them a permit but they plan to go ahead.

These actions seeks to cloak all of the Islam religion in the actions of a few terrorists on 9-11.  This would be like saying all Catholics, Boy Scout leaders and Christians are child molesters because some of those connected with their organizations were.  Certainly the actions of  The Dove World Outreach Center have the potential to give others utilizing the same narrow view to think the same about all Christians or all Americans.

Americans of all faith and even non-believers need to speak up on this. Public Officials need to forcefully reject this notion that there is some righteous end in this kind of thinking and such actions.  To the extent we have already seen across this country violence and vandalism in isolated instances associated with this kind of behavior it is clear that there are those among us that can easily be persuaded to such actions, and the likes of Pastor Terry Jones are simply a can of gasoline looking for a fire.

Magpie Tales 30

[two writes this week]

One Bite

All alone
on the kitchen table
red, freckled
and blemished;
awaiting a suitor
who could appreciate
my inner beauty—

and you came,
took one bite
and left.





First Bite

A violent sound
a chunk of an iceberg
splitting off the core
and falling away—

a starburst of juice
cascades over and about
the gums; roll to the tongue
exploding in flavor.

This is no ordinary apple;
one in season,
ripe with intensity
to awaken.





© 2010 Michael A. Wells



Magpie Tales 30

Round The Net

I've struggled yesterday and today to write a post prompted by Magpie 30.  Right now I'm in from mowing our back yard and recouperating before I tackle the front. I thought I'd post a few poetry related links while I'm resting.

She delt with the uncertainty of fate of family and friends in Haiti after a massive earthquake with poetry.

The poet Diane Lockwood has provided a list of online Journals that she has given a thumbs up to. Credit to Kristin Berkey Abbott for her post that lead me there.

Banned Book Week is coming up.

At 26, I'm part of a generation raised on gadgets, but actual books are something I just refuse to give up story at SALON

Gratitude Journal

• The touch of a hand to my arm or shoulder in bed at night or early morning.
• Quick Trip when you need a diet coke.
• Knowing the Padres lose on nights the when the Giants don't win so  they lose no ground in the standings.
• Toilet paper in the utility closet when the spool is empty.
• Friday Night TV with Cathy.

Head Start on Labor Day Weekend

It was take it or lose it time for vacation so I took a vacation day.  This afternoon I did a  double platelet donation at the blood center, came home, did some cleaning and cooked dinner for my sweetheart! Stuffed Peppers.

My amusement for the day come from the following quote:

That's the way it is with poetry: When it is incomprehensible it seems profound, and when you understand it, it is only ridiculous. -Galway Kinnell

Seven year and 2634 posts later....

Stickpoet Super Hero celebrates another anniversary!

The Truth about Writers, Chocolate and Booze

I think Christine Klocek-Lim has hit upon something over at November Sky Poetry.

Confession Tuesday

Tuesday evening and I'm here for one reason.... Confession Tuesday.

Let's go to the Confessional.

Dear reader~  Where has the Summer gone? I must confess that the older I get the swifter our seasons seem to come and go.  Last weekend I was in a Target store and heard some teenager telling her mom that "xyz" store already had their Christmas displays going up. Really- before the end of August!!??

I suppose it is only natural that time seems to go faster as we get older. I think as we age and take on responsibilities we must think less about seasons or even months and more about paydays.  We seem to move between paydays swiftly. Like maybe we simply live for the next payday. At least that is what it seems like to me.

I confess I wish for some different benchmark to look forward to. I'm open to suggestions.

A Writers Cottage

It’s where quaint and secluded
merge back from the road,
nestled in the verdant treed lot
where even the postman
never comes. It is here

by the fire at night
I read what I wish
till my book falls helpless
into my lap
until supple rays find my face
while birds scold me awake

and with brawny coffee
I embark on the new day
with the purity of paper
void of anything
and my head chasing
transitory images
to pen down on the page.

 
 
© 2010 – Michael A. Wells
 
 
 A part of Magpie Tales 29

A Collision of Past and Future

I read Victoria Chang's second book before I read Circle which gave me reason for pleasant surprise. You could easily be fooled into believing this work is anything but a first book. There is cohesiveness in Circle that many poets have not mastered in their second or third publication.

In Circle Chang embraces an exposition of culture and gender in ways that are not worn or over worked. She demonstrates the spiral collision of past and future. She is often edgy but her word skills have a well controlled precision that can slip a point past you like smooth butter.

I especially enjoyed the following poems: Lantern Festival, Seven Changs, To Want, Kitchen Aid Epicurean Stand Mixer and On Quitting.

Circle was a winner of the Crab Orchard Series in Poetry Open Competition Award and was published by Southern Illinois University Press.

A Driveway Moment Missed

Just returned from a brisk evening walk with MO (pictured left), the weather is so nice, I hope tomorrow is a xerox copy.

 

Earlier today I had NPR on in the car listening to Michael Feldman's Whad'Ya Know? and he had as a guest Ayelet Waldman the author of Bad Mother.  It was one of those "driveway moments" or should have been as I had arrived at my destination and really wanted to hear the rest, but couldn't (I'll have to await podcast).  I haven't read her book but she was hysterical on the show.

 

Evidently she was at one tine a public defender and married to a writer she decided whe wantd to do what he does... write for four hours a day and well, do whatever the rest of the day. Of course in order to do that you have to become successful at writing, which evidently she has. Her 2005 New Yourk Times Essay about sex and motherhood opened a lot of eyes. The essay titled Truly, Madly, Guiltily can be read here.

A review of her book: BAD MOTHER A Chronicle of Maternal Crimes, Minor Calamities, and Occasional Moments of Grace published by Doubleday can be found here.

Gag Me With A Spoon!

E-books purchased in Apple's iBookstore may soon include iAds. "If you flip to page forty of Jonathan Lethem's Chronic City, you may be served an iAd instead of page forty-one." (CNET)

Keep Language Alive!

"No doubt some languages have died, but we don't know which ones they were." - William Matthews

Confession Tuesday - you are what you read edition

Tuesday again… this time I’m prompt. I actually have to say I’ve thought a lot about this confession so let’s get started.




Dear reader:

 That sounds funny addressing you as reader when my confession today is about me as a reader. Yesterday I was reading something – I don’t recall what exactly when this came to me as I read a number of articles and blogs yesterday, but I thought back over my own reading past experiences and realized I have a problem.

 All right, I have a number of problems so don’t go there. The problem I’m confessing is my reading habits. If I were looking at what I read as a menu of food I eat, I would be totally deficient in some vitamins and minerals.

 My own book shelves basically can be divided into three sections - poetry/poetics, baseball, political - biographical. Actually I have a number of biographical that are linked to poetry as well.

I don’t as a rule read novels. Occasionally I’ve read a science fiction. When I was younger I read fiction and a fair amount of historical fiction but as I grew older most of my reading had a more direct purpose.

 I confess this is not a totally new revelation to me, but thinking at in the context of contributing to some kind of deficiency is quite frankly a new and startling insight or self discovery. And here is the rub… a part of me says at my age why care? If given the choice what to sit down and read this very afternoon I would likely not stray from the comfort of my well worn path. Yet, there is this part of me that says perhaps I could be a better, a stronger writer if I opened myself to broader tastes in reading. It’s a thought.

 I’ll let you know where this leads, if anywhere.