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Monday, October 11, 2010

N.J. organizers say Dodge Poetry Festival attendance as large as past, more diverse | NJ.com

 

NEWARK — Greg Gillett and his wife, Mary Jo, have traveled from Michigan to New Jersey many times to attend the Geraldine R. Dodge Poetry Festival, but the event produced some pleasant surprises this year.

The festival moved to the New Jersey Performing Arts Center in Newark from Waterloo Village in Sussex County.

Despite the presence of four U.S. poets laureate, "there were fewer big names than other years," said Mary Jo Firth Gillett.

Yet the poetry teacher in the Detroit area said she found that a plus.

 

Full Story:  N.J. organizers say Dodge Poetry Festival attendance as large as past, more diverse | NJ.com

 

 

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San Francisco Wins Series - Advance to NLCS! Celebrating!

Outfielder Cody Ross Homers in the game tonight.  The Giants win the series on the Road in Atlanta.

Saturday, October 09, 2010

Imagine

  • Imagine Hunger a thing of the past
  • Imagine Forests rejuvenated
  • Imagine Cancer cured
  • Imagine Diabetes defeated
  • Imagine Literacy an epidemic
  • Imagine Wellness a way of life
  • Imagine Knowledge universal
  • Imagine a world Clear of Nuclear weapons
  • Imagine Human Rights without a second thought
  • Imagine A Song in Every Heart
  • Imagine Living Life in Peace

John Lennon - 9 October 1940 – 8 December 1980



Image: Salvatore Vuono / FreeDigitalPhotos.net

Friday, October 08, 2010

"Last Letter"


The New Statesman publishes a previously unseen work by the late poet laureate Ted Hughes that shed some light on the final days of Sylvia Plath.  Above, Actor Jonathan Pryce reads the poem.
This is sure to start a whole new round of discussion and debate about the Hughes-Plath relationship.

Wednesday, October 06, 2010

Magpie Tales 35



The Fall

Not all
falls are without grace
it’s not all black and white

the lush green
slowly ages
to perfection
and one day

we wake like the frog
in the pan on the stove
who only notices
he is cooked

too late to realize
summer has crossed
the line

and we cheer
the cool afternoons
brushed with color
aplenty

we plan weekend excursions
around watercolor scapes—
drive deep into their belly
and breathe the discolored air
crisp and thick
with ripe

and over weeks
all this too
will pass

all will slowly
lose grip
in a
last
dying
act

and gently
on streams of air
fall effortlessly
without a sound
to the ground
below


©2010 – Michael A. Wells – all rights reserved

Poetry Daily - If I Ever Mistake You For a Poem

Congratulations to Kelli Russell Agodon - one of her poems from her new book - Letters from the Emily Dickinson Room was selected for Poetry Daily.   Check it out here!

Tuesday, October 05, 2010

Confession Tuesday - Pride Edition

It’s that time again…. Tuesday. Did you know that Tuesday is associated with the planet Mars and the Roman God of War? Anyway, it’s off the confessional. Are you coming?

Dear reader-

Yes, another week had come and gone since my last confession. I have number of things to offer in confession this week let me unload these sins now.

There is this sin called pride. This is one that I’ve often found confusing. Pride seems such a normal emotional experience related to what I generally regard as good things that happen. Your child brings home a good grade card – you feel really proud of your child. You get a poem accepted in a journal… you are beaming with pride. I felt a sense of pride in my favorite baseball team this weekend as they clinched the National League West championship.

The San Francisco Giants are not a team loaded with high payroll. They have a number of young players mixed with veterans most with little or no post season experience. They were not on most people’s radar for post season and at All- Star break they were barely above .500. Much of they year they were in second place, a position that alone raised many eyebrows. But they hung in and played good ball down the stretch. In August they had some tough times and their pitching staff went south. After a team meeting, September turned around and the pitching was among the best in baseball. Meanwhile, the Padres who spent something like 130-140 days in first place went into a tail spin, crashed and burned. The Giants took over first place, came off a road trip and swept the Diamondbacks three games at home and awaited the Padres to play the final three games of the season. On Friday, the fist of the three games the Giants needed just one win to clinch the Division. The Padres needed to sweep to tie and face a playoff. It took three games to put them away, but on the final game of the regular season, SF did just that and sent the Padres home with no post-season.

So I confess- yes, I’m proud of the Giants. I’m proud of my team. I know they are not the best team that San Francisco has ever assembled, and likely not the best team to reach post season, but they did, playing often above everyone else’s expectations. They many not win the NL pennant. If they do, the may not win the World Series, but I will be cheering them on as far as they can get and if they do, I will be crazy excited like a kid. Still, I confess I will remain proud of them whatever.

                                                                       ~0~

I have another sin to confess. I know all writers do this. They read something written by another writer and they say out loud, “Wow! I wanted to write that!” Of course, they can’t because now it has already been written. Ok, I guess they can and some do try it. It’s called plagiarizing. I think we all know that while it may not be in the Ten Commandments it is pretty much the single biggest Writer’s Commandment, “Thou Shall not Plagiarize” And though I have not, and will not plagiarize, I confess that upon reading Kelli Russell Agodon’s poem I Try to Plagiarize Moonlight, I did covet it.

                                                                      ~0~

Drumming. Yes, recently I have been guilty of the sin of drumming. While I played drums in band at school, I’ve been drumming a lot lately and not on drums, but on the top of my Quick Trip cup, the dash of the car at stop lights, etc. and this in annoying. So I’m told. I confess it really isn’t bothering me but apparently it is an annoyance to (some) others. I’m trying to do better.

Thanks for listening… everyone have a great week!

Sunday, October 03, 2010

Happy-Happy-Joy-Joy!

The San Francisco Giants win the NL Western Division Championship!

There is "Life in Postseason!"





Saturday, October 02, 2010

Magpie Tales 34




Blue Heat

"Crystal blue persuasion....."*

When you were introduced,
grandma had that eye—
that keen recognition
that she knew         you
were the chemistry;
a combustible wick
for a perfect flame
swirling          searing
         climbing
the tornado chimney
to overtake any room.


* From the from 1969 hit song Crystal Blue Persuasion..... written and performed by Tommy James and The Shondells


©2010 Michael A. Wells – all rights reserved



 

Wednesday, September 29, 2010

Banned Book Week - Thought for the day

What progress we are making.  In the Middle Ages they would have burned me.  Now they are content with burning my books.  ~Sigmund Freud, 1933

Tuesday, September 28, 2010

Confession Tuesday

I'm tired as I shuffle into the confessional tonight. 

Dear reader~

This seemed to be an exceedingly long day and I'm ready to get my confessions over with.

It's been one week since my last confession and it has been another week since I last submitted any work to the publishing world. Too many weeks I confess. So many that I am ashamed to offer a number so I won't.  It's not that I haven't been writing - just not submitting lately.

I also have to confess that I have become as scarce within the local poetry community as an ashtray in a hospital. Yes, I need to get out more often. I don't think I've read in public since April. Saying that sound worse. Ugh~

I've already mentioned in my blog this week that when I received my copy of Letters from the Emily Dickinson Room straight through without stopping when it arrived in the mail Saturday. I did not however mention just how rare this is for me. Because I have adult ADD I confess that it would be quite rare for me to do this because staying with a book that long without breaks can be quite frustrating at times.

I had Hamburger Helper Lasagna for dinner. I confess that I had been craving this for weeks. I don't think I've eaten it in years but I guess I had a bout of box dinner nostalgia.  I confess that it was "all that!"

Hope everyone has a great week. Till next Tuesday, I'm all confessed out.

Another Quote for Banned Book Week

We are not afraid to entrust the American people with unpleasant facts, foreign ideas, alien philosophies, and competitive values.  For a nation that is afraid to let its people judge the truth and falsehood in an open market is a nation that is afraid of its people.  ~John F. Kennedy


120 Banned Books: Censorship Histories of World Literature        You Can't Read This!: Why Books Get Banned (Pop Culture Revolutions)

Monday, September 27, 2010

Monday Mentions

A few things in no particular order of importance...

Saturday, September 25, 2010

Quiet Pleased - Letters From The Emily Dickinson Room came in the mail.

My copy of Letters From The Emily Dickinson Room arrived in the mail.

I cannot be disturbed!

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.

Friday, September 24, 2010

Magpie Tales 33






The Other Woman

I stare into the mirror
at the dressing table.
Another woman looks
back—

a young woman
amazingly foreign
to the ordinary geography
of my world;

black dress, string of pearls,
she draws her inner wrists
to her face, fair in the silver tone
background—

gently the essence of rose
regal and voluminous
laced in lilac and vanilla
rises as she fills her chest.

How different
from the aroma
of tomato sauce
crowed out by basil,
garlic and pepperoni
amid the musty smell
of dishes from the morning
mingling in the sink with those
the night before—



2010© Michael A. Wells - all rights reserved



Tuesday, September 21, 2010

Confession Tuesday - The simple and the complex edition

If you've come for the weekly confession, you're just in time. Come along...

Dear Reader,

It's been one week since my last confession and I have several things to confess this morning.

I confess that I remain in awe of the things in life that are simple and yet complex. A simple sunrise this morning (pictured here) greeted me. The layers of cloud cover with openings of sky soft pinks and orange and brilliant amber.

I confess that I am amazed that we (that I) can see with my own eyes things as spectacular as a sunrise like this. That these brown eyes of mine can take it all in and that somehow my mind processes all this and that I can in fact distinguish this as something of beauty.

I too confess that I am so impressed that we (people) can actually communicate such abstract things as beauty and hope and love and fear and desire and all these things that we take for granted as though they just happen and there is nothing complicated about the process of people coming to understand words that define such concepts.

Sure, I realize there are miraculous things that are happening every day in science.  But wow, you don't have to be looking through a microscope, a telescope, examining the contents of test tubes and petri dishes. There is awesomeness enough all around us if we just stop and take a deep breath and take it all in.

Saturday, September 18, 2010

Magpie Tales 32






Time

A stingy creation of man
himself—

we are cursed
by its gritty currency
that will not be told
to sit still or held
but sifts through the fingers
and is lost in yesterday
and the days before
until reduced to memories
or specks of sand
one indistinguishable
moment from the other.


© 2010 Michael A. Wells

Magpie Tales 32