Confession Tuesday

Another week has come and gone. Another fantasy football weekend has come and gone. It felt almost like snow. I worked dinner magic from a shrinking pantry and grimaced at world events. It's time again for confession so let's get going...

Dear Reader:

I confess to feeling silly for sitting on the edge of my seat watching the clock and score of the Monday night football game to see if my fantasy team was able to maintain their lead and eek out a win. I mean we are talking football not baseball.  (I did win)

This past week was the fifth week of a six week session of working with another poet on my writing. I confess it has gone too fast and I'm not ready to take the training wheels off yet. I want to cram so much work into this last week - not wanting to miss any opportunity to better myself. This is the second year I've done this and I confess that I believe every writer should block out some time each year to work with another writer.  I'm reminded of therapists who go to therapists and so writers doing sessions with other writers to better their skills makes sense to me.

I noticed that my heel on my right dress shoes seems to have worn down some on one side. I confess that I really like these shoes and this annoys me.  Years ago I used to sometimes put new heels on shoes. I've not done this in a while, in part because I would wear out the rest of the shoe first.  I'm not sure if you can still find shoe repair shops to do this.  I confess I still try to keep one foot in the past. **sigh**

I recently read a Pablo Neruda poem that I really liked. I've read some that I just didn't find very appealing and I was telling someone the other day it has occurred to me that I may have been reading poor translations.  I remember Martin Espada - a Neruda scholar, one time saying there are many translations of Neruda's work - some good and some not so good. I confess that I need to explore some of these translations further. I may like him better then I thought.

I confess It doesn't seem like the holiday season to me presently.

I confess I've been anxious about writing lately.

I confess that right now I want some black walnut ice cream.

He Writes - She Submits

There is writing and there is submitting. One is creative the other administrative.  While I haven't always felt this way, I've come to dislike submitting work. I suppose that is why I found Suppose someone submitted all your poems for you to be a fascinating interview over at Very Like A Whale. 

Magpie 43

Bridging the Gaps

The space that separates
becomes the mortar that binds—

lava winding through the highlands
of Nepal downward without care

a hardened dental filling
closing the decay

unifying all measure
of humanity.

2010© Michael A. Wells

Magpie Tale 43

Recommended Reading

A couple of  things I've read at other sites that I though were noteworthy.

• Lessons from Pre-Schoolers  a delightful commentary on lessons adults could take from pre-schoolers. 
• 
  Negotiating Death with Ivy Alvarez  The fascinating international poet and author of Mortal  is interviewed by Alec Patric for Verity LA
  

Thoughts on Poets #6

Poetry is an act of peace. Peace goes into the making of a poet as flour goes into the making of bread.

 ~  Pablo Neruda

Thoughts on Poets #5

Poets are like baseball pitchers. Both have their moments.

The intervals are the tough things. ~Robert Frost

Thoughts on Poets #4

A poet must leave traces of his passage,

 not proof. ~  Rene Char

Confession Tuesday - Stuffed Edition

Quickly…. I’ve much to do so let’s get started.

Dear Reader-

It’s been one week, one turkey, one Monday Night Football and one 4 day break from the office since my last confession.

I confess that I did not want to get up this morning in spite of the fact that I slept like a log last night. When I awoke the hear dog bladders calling and looked at the clock I wanted to stuff my head under the pillow and shut it all off. I didn’t though. There was the whole bladder thing and besides they start to get ravenous this time of morning.

It’s the time of year at the office when they start cranking up the heat before we arrive. I confess that I cannot understand why they think it is any more comfortable to bake in to bake in the office then be cold. This therefore is the time of year that I must go into the office and issue my “cranky” warning. I confess it is true that as the heat goes up, I’m a far less happy camper. At least I give disclosure.

I confess to cheating on baseball last night. I met my son and others at a bar to watch the 49ers football game. My Arizona daughter was at the game with her boyfriend and I confess to “Text-Trash –Talk” as the 49ers never had to look back in the game. Towards the end I asked them if they were having a good time which I suppose is a little like asking, “Other then that Mrs. Lincoln how did you like the play?”

So how was your week? Hope this next one is exceptional!

Thoughts on Poets #3

Women make us poets, children make us philosophers. ~ Malcolm De Chazal

Thoughts on Poets #2

We all write poems; it is simply that poets are the ones

who write in words. ~  John Fowles

Thoughts on Poets #1

The poets are only the interpreters of the Gods.  ~ Socrates

Opera Company of Philadelphia "Hallelujah!" Random Act of Culture

First - Credit to Suzanne Frischkorn who posted this - which is where I originally found it. I love Handel's Messiah and in particular the Hallelujah Chorus. Thanks Suzanne for making my day!

Hard Ground - by Tom Waits - Poetry from the street

Tom Waits is an American singer-songwriter and composer.  I've not really been personally familiar with him but do recognize some of is material done by other big name artists - "Jersey Girl", performed by Bruce Springsteen and "Downtown Train", performed by Rod Stewart are examples. I understand that he has somewhat of a cult following  himself and those who know his songs frequently find them to be atmospheric portrayals of dark, often seedy characters and places. Maybe then it should not come a a surprise that Waits has announced the release of 'Hard Ground,' a collaborative book that combines his poetry with photographer Michael O'Brien's images of the homeless.

The idea of the book, is modeled after 1941's 'Let Us Now Praise Famous Men' -- a collaboration between poet James Agee and photographer Walker Evans, whose shots of Depression-era farmers were incorporated with the poetry.

This book is due out in March.

Gratitude Journal - Post Thanksgiving

I do suppose it is a good time to indulge in gratitude acknowledgement:

• Presently I'm thankful Barry is looking better (as in his head seems less tilted) 
• I'm thankful for occasional messages from Arizona daughter even if they come after midnight.
• I'm thankful for Turkey wings - and the wonderful person who salvaged the wing for me. **heart you**
• Thankful for time with son and KC daughter and wife on thanks giving day.
• Thankful for time with wife - even watching TV together late nights.
• Thankful gas prices came back down (even if temporally).
• For egg bagels.
• For Swiss cheese.
• For new slacks.
• For poems to read.
• For poems to listen to (Whale Sound).
• For poems in the mind and finding their way to the page.
• For the San Francisco Giants Winning the World Series (in my lifetime) and maybe it can happen yet again!
• For Eco-friendly light bulbs.
• For Klaus walking even if wobbly.
• Cool days - warm hearts.
• Journaling. 
• Friends.
• Laughter.
• Poets who help other poets.
• Work.

Magpie Tales 42



The Cup

Tell me again its history
the metal muscle – the fortitude
the way it survived
crossing the Atlantic
stayed within the family
through those early years
when famine forced much sacrifice
and trading value for sustenance.


Tell me how it was passed on
father to son to grandchildren
and when the male linage legged
it became the daughter
bringing it forward
and how it survived into marriage
and nurtured still at great cost.


How it paused briefly
in Independence, Missouri
and then journeyed
on west— surviving
Indian territory, hard times
again on the trail when other things
were set aside – at immense emotional price.

Show me the moth eaten velvet beg
that clung to it when you found it
packed among grandfather’s furnishings
where you plucked it free
before the estate sale.

And remind me when it is my turn
to treasure it—

in the time honored tradition








2010© Michael A. Wells




Magpie Tales

Being Made Captive

"Sometimes the briefest moments capture us, force us to take them in, and demand that we live the rest of our lives in reference to them."  — Lucy Grealy from Autobiography of a Face

Confession Tuesday

Dear Reader... It's been a week since my last confession.  Come along and we'll get down to the crazy details.

• This past week I attended a Reading.  I usually try and shoot a picture or two at readings in order do a post on my blog.  I thought about shooting pictures at this one but they announced at the beginning that pictures were not to be taken. Not during the reading, not at the book signing or at the reception. I was shocked because I don't every recall this in the past.  I did in fact refrain from shooting pictures but I did think about it so dose that make me a sinner or a near sinner? The whole thing is strange because I've taken photos at this event in the past and there never seemed to be a problem.
• My efforts to settle into more of a regular routine for my writing too a back seat yesterday to a trip to the grocer for a turkey. Then delayed again while I spent time with my wife watching some of our favorite TV. Finally I settled in to write after she fell asleep and then my Arizona daughter - looking for some one to chat with texted me. It was very late and I don't get a lot of one on one time talking of texting with her so I again put my journal and pen aside.  When Meg was all texted out, I picked up my journal and got down to work. A very late session, but it turned out to be a very good one.

That's it for this week.  Everyone have a safe and enjoyable Thanksgiving.

Recording poetic particals

It seems that each time I visit Terresa Wellborn's blog I am blown away by something she has written, some picture, some great quote or particle of truth or sometimes it's a combination of these. This morning was no exception.

Today it was a quote from the French novelist Gustave Flaubert - "There is not a particle of life which does not bear poetry within it."

This quote tends to give credence to the value of notations in a journal of interesting things that come your way each day. It is from these particles that the gems, the precious molecules of poetic matter come. To let them pass without record surely means many are lost and never committed to use.

Anyway, thanks to Terresa I am reminded the value of notations of some life's small wonders.

Magpie Tales 41

Eleventh Hour

The eleventh hour

a repudiation of the one before.

Older, wiser, clutched the present

staking claim to so much more

then any earlier period of history.

Still this cannot be self contained.

Time is a currency that is devalued

with each passing moment.

The tarnished silver replaced and the

cycle continues. Each click of a second

the spin, an empty chamber of a gun.

–a misfire, misspoken pronouncement;

the anti-matter.



2010© Michael A. Wells

Magpie Tales

ONE IMPORTANT PHONE CALL YOU CAN MAKE

Sadly one Republican Senator is is again playing games with important legislation.  This time it is Senator Jon Kyl and he is holding up a vote on passage of the arms control treaty between the United States and Russia. 

The new START TREATY  is important and failing to act at this time to ratify the treaty could risk disrupting relations with Russia and the international coalition that opposes Iran’s nuclear program.

Call Senator Kyl's office and tell him you want the Senate to act on the Arms Control Treaty NOW!  Tell his office you are tired of one Republican Senator holding up important votes!

Senator Kyl's office numbers are listed below


Phoenix (602) 840-1891

Tucson (520) 575-8633

Washington (202) 224-4521