They go out - they come back. Poems looking for homes

I've been busy reforming my ways this year submitting to four different journals so far.  Significant because I have come to dislike this part of writing over the past couple of years. 

Things are looking up! Yesterday, I received the following rejection e-mail from one of my submission groupings of poems:

Some nice lines in there, Michael, especially in Mount Rushmore. Overall, they didn't seem right for XXXXXX   Review. We have decided to pass this time.

...We appreciate you considering us submission-worthy. Please wait at least a week before submitting again.

Best,

Confession Tuesday - Way too old edition

Confession time has arrived again.  I feel like I have a lot I'm lugging around so what do you say we get started?

Dear Reader-

It's been another four poems sent out in search of new homes, a snow storm, a birthday and a tragedy since my last confession.

This weekend was surreal.  It was surreal in the context both of disbelief and yet a feeling we've been here before. Of course we haven't actually been here, but I confess that this feels in a very sad and very senseless way like that summer of 1968.  The assassination attempt on Congresswoman Gabrielle Giffords, the death of a 9 year old girl, a federal judge, one of Giffords staffers, and at least 3 others  dead and something like 14 more wounded. The number is staggeringly hazy to me even now.

I confess that I fail to see why anyone in the public sector needs to be able to purchase an extended magazine clip for a firearm. If you are not police or military it seems senseless.  Between Sept. 13, 1994 and Sept. 13, 2004 The Federal Assault Weapons Ban (AWB)  or  Public Safety and Recreational Firearms Use Protection Act as it was subtitled, prevented the sale to individuals of such ammunition. But during the second Bush presidency, the NRA prevailed in creating a climate in which neither President Bush or the bulk of Congress had the courage to support renewal of it.

I confess to feeling a sickening indignation over the lack of common sense in this country where firearms are concerned. It's a sad commentary - not unlike that of MADD (mothers against drunk drivers) that for many to become proactive, they have to lose someone close to them before they realize the price we pay for our cultural affair with firearms is simply not worth it.

Yesterday, I turned @&.  I confess that I've been bothered by my aging for far longer then most people are. I know lots who are bothered come the big 40.  Some even at 35, and a few at 30.  I think the 30 year old cases must be pretty hard core. But I'll go one further. I was starting to feel the anxiety come age 25. Yes, you heard it right... 25.  Of course now I confess I'd be tickled to go back to 30 again.

That's about it for this week. I've got several things to do before bed time tonight.  May your week, what's left of it, be a good one!

Magpie Tales - 48 / Poem: I Can Imagine

I Can Imagine

Somewhere between the cotton weave

of a sheer web smeared across the flatness

of old sheets of inked notes silent

on pages as brittle as the print is delicate;

and the stuffy air of a concert hall

far off in some other time, I can imagine

the Cantata’s rising echo of voice

on the tail of instrumentation

jostling back and forth 

each fighting for their due

recognition— the orchestra

in a winning moment heeds

the directors baton— going allegro.

Voices bow to strings and horns

until a disquieting roll of timpani ushers in 

one final melding of chorus and instruments.



2011 © - Michael A. Wells

Magpie Tales 48

Unconscious Mutterings - Week 115

You say...  I think:

• 1.Speech :: free
• 2.Meredith :: broadcasting
• 3.Consensus :: maker
• 4.Attack :: plan of
• 5.Sue :: litigate
• 6.Voted :: democracy
• 7.Epic :: journey
• 8.Checking in :: at home
• 9.Dishwasher :: liquid
• 10.Underneath :: car
  
  Get your own list here

Magpie Tales 47 - Poem: Deranged

Deranged

The drip a mystery,

the puddle, rust flavored;

the drain too far away.

A contorted idea-

a trick knob,

the mirror of a sick mind.

2111 © Michael A. Wells

Magpie Tales 47

"...point out the inequities, nothing to lose but our chains."

I read this blog post today by Kristin Berkey-Abbott: Artifacts from the Deep Freeze of the Cold War.  It was her trip back into the past as she visited the Cold War years and concluded a poem she had written. The final stanza reads:

I write my own poems. I imagine they will change
the world, that all I must do to rid the planet of injustice
is to point out the inequities, nothing to lose but our chains.

These lines so expressed what I believe many of my generation put so much stock in. Thinking that calling out inequities would lead to an end of a multitude of injustices.  Idealistic? Naive?  Still, as I began to adapt to the life of a poet, putting such things into "my poet perspective," I've had to ask myself if I really believe I can change the world with poems?  Do I think anyone can?

Over a year ago, another poet introduced me to Carolyn Forché, an incredible poet who has established a reputation as a poet of witness. Carolyn very often writes poems that take us very gently into social injustice. I'm not sure if she is changing the world one reader at a time but she certainly has the ability, with great subtlety to unmask things that might otherwise go unnoticed by many. 

What do you think?  Can poets change the world?

Confession Tuesday

A new year and a first confession of the new year.  Come follow me to the booth...

Dear Reader:

It's been one week since my last confession.  One week of crazy weather ranging from nearly 60 down to the mid to lower teens. A week of sniffles (go figure) and reflections (looking back on the year, not staring in the mirror in an act vanity). But I confess I am I am already getting acclimated to the new year.

As a rule I don't plan out resolutions as such. But I do hold some hopes some goals close to my heart. Some things that will require me to be better at things this year then past.

On New Years day I cranked out my first packet of poetry submissions of the year.  I posted this in my Facebook status to which Diane Lockwood replied, " Don't brag. It's unattractive."  Her remark made me laugh, but I confess I've come to resist submitting my work these past two years like the plague. But my post was my way of establishing some accountability. The next day, I sent off a second packet. I'm finished for the week except for some home work of planning my next victim, I mean venue to submit to next week.  The thing is that I kicked myself in the butt to get started and I want to keep some feeling of momentum.

If I'm happy and upbeat about submitting my work, I'm cranky about the price of gas. I confess that every time gas nears the $3 range or above I get this way. I'm trying to be more positive and upbeat about things, but it seems that not only are we shelling out more for gas, we are driving a lot more these days. When I hear on NPR about countries paying $7 a gallon I don't know how they do it.

Someone at the office cheered my up this week reminding me that pitchers and catchers will be reporting to spring training camps soon. (mid February). "Right around the corner." I believe where her words. I confess my interest in Football has run it's course since my fantasy league is over. Even the Chief's surprise of reaching the playoffs does little for me.  For one thing I'm under no delusions about the team's chances. I'm ready for baseball. But, when have I not been?  ;)

My attempt at algebra for today

If, as Carlos Fuentes says, "Writing is a struggle against silence" ~

then I'm thinking submitting is a struggle against failure. 

Unconscious Mutterings - week 413

You say.... I Think:

• 1.Detective :: Holmes
• 2.Bra :: Underwire
• 3.Prove it :: Confirm
• 4.The end :: Conclusion
• 5.Messy ::  Trashy
• 6.Immovable :: Stationary
• 7.Jingle ::  Rhyme
• 8.False ::  Wrong
• 9.Comprehend :: Understand
• 10.Scream ::  Yell

Get your own list here

Gold Star

First day of the new year - I've sent out a submission with four poems to kick off 2011.  Got to be better about this! 

2010 Looking Back

A  Looking back on the year ending ....

  

We said Hello to: 

• Health Care Reform
• Inception
• Toy Story 3
• Ipad
• Chevy Volt
• Groupons
• Glee
• Hot in Cleveland
• Rand Paul
• Bailouts
• John Boehner 
• Tears
• Orange skin tone
• Joe Miller
• Scott Brown
• Lady GaGa
• Katy Perry
• San Francisco Giants
• Body Scans
• Branding (not cattle)
• Cupcakes
• Jerry (Moonbeam) Brown - again
• Redistricting
• Borrowing from China
• Tax breaks for the wealthy
• Bill Clinton - again

We said Goodbye to:

• Joe Miller
• Witches
• Christine O'Donnell
•  Toyota
• Texting while driving
• San Diego Padres
• Texas Rangers
• Sheen in the Gulf
• Crashing State Dinners
• Tom Delay
• Jobs
• Failed Banks
• Privacy
• Trading Chickens for Health Care
• Census
• Immigration reform
• Swine Flu
• BP
• Hallaburton by any name
• Dick Cheney
• Don't ask don't tell

A Few People Who Passed On in 2010

• Barbara Billingsly
• Art Linkletter
• Tony Curtis
• Eddie Fisher
• George Steinbrenner
• J.D. Salanger
• Joan Southerlans
• Edward M. Kennedy
• John Forsythe
• Lech Kaczynski
• Lynn Redgrave
• Lena Horne
• Peter Graves
• Tom Bosley
• TeddyPendergrass
• Bella Akhmadulina
• Robert Dana
• Andrei Voznesensky
• Robert Byrd
• Lucille Clifton
  
  
  
  
  
  Your List? - Who and What did I miss?
  

Magpie Tales 46- Poem: No Choice

No Choice-
You left me
like a hand removed
from gloves—
flat and limp.

What could you do?
The bird had no tweet;
the stem lacked any bud.

I was poison;
you water—

you could only dilute me
but always there would be venom.

2010© Michael A. Wells

Magpie Tales

Confession Tuesday - It's Right Where I Put It Edition

The year is nearly over.  This will be my last Tuesday of 2010 at the Cyber Confessional.

Dear Reader:

For a long time I would save my floating holiday for the 29th of December to be able to have to day off to celebrate our youngest daughter's birthday.  Since she is out of the area now, there is no need to do this. I've taken it already this month.  So tonight I set here reflecting upon the fact that her mother and I won't see her tomorrow and I confess this leaves this year ending on a flat key.

Year endings often seem melancholy to me. It's seems like it has been a while since I recall feeling upbeat about a year that has passed or particularly excited about the new one we are embarking on. 

I confess that I try to approach each new year walking a fine line between seeking to improve myself and yet shying from specific New Year Resolutions.

I've talked before about my obsession with organization and my challenge turn it into action.  This year I hope to tackle one thing at a time get things in better order.  Starting with cleaning up my laptop and better organizing the files on it, especially my writing files.  I also want to organize my paper files better.  But these are just starting points.  I confess that I often put things in places where I think I can easily retrieve them only to find that I can't quite recall where that place was.  Ugh!

Tonight I checked out the annual debut poets roundup in the latest edition of Poets & Writers.   This is one of my favorite features in P&W because I'm always interested to see if I know anyone who made the list. This year none of them were familure to me.  Still, I enjoy reading the little bullet information about each one of the. How old they are.  How long they were working on their manuscript. How long it took to find a publisher. Number of contests, etc. Their advise to others. I confess that reading these makes me wish I had started writing at least 15 years earlier.

Wishing my daughter happy birthday! Wishing everyone a safe and happy New Year.   See you at the confessional in 2011!

On Winter Days Like These

Winter is nature's way of saying, "Up yours."  ~Robert Byrne

Crumpets and a Movie

Sunday morning, someone is drawing bath water, the dogs are quiet and my stomach to talking to me. I hear, but ignore.

I haven't blogged in days. I started to late last night  but ended up deleting before I was finished and went to bed.  That's kind of how I've been these past four days. Sort of here but not really.  I have not felt well and until Christmas eve I was in denial that I was sick (a common defensive tactic of mine) and simply wrote it off as sinus related stuff - but I've decided now it's some kind of upper respiratory thingy.

My loving wife made me homemade crumpets and ham on Christmas and I watched Il Postino (recommended by Kelli Agodon) - which I enjoyed in spite of following the subtitles in my fuzzy head.  I will watch it again soon and probably enjoy it more if my eyes and brain are working better together.

I've written already this morning, so the day has started well. Holding off on breakfast as long as I can - my blood sugar numbers are a little elevated as a result of being sick.

Have several things I want to get done today - but I don't want to push myself. I really have too much to do at the office not to go in tomorrow, so I don't want to overdue things today.

I pulled my copy of Unmentionables by Beth Ann Fennelly  off the night stand to read a few poems this morning. Feel like a cup of coffee, but not till I have something else in my stomach first.  Off to read now. Maybe, just maybe I'll have something more profound to say when I rejoin the world in another post later today.

Patriotism

For a writer only one form of patriotism exists: his attitude toward language.

~ Joseph Brodsky

Confession Tuesday

Tuesday again? How did that happen? I’m off to the confessional.

Dear Reader:

Another week has passed, as well as an office Christmas luncheon. Additionally, Office treats trays and a family dessert gartering. All of these add up to carbs, calories and sugar.

I confess these are trying times for diabetics. A fruit cake arrived at our office last week. You know those things people joke about using as door stops or re-gifting and sending on and on into perpetuity. Well, I confess I actually like fruit cakes. There, I said it! I can already here the Facebook friends unfriending me and twitter followers vanishing into thin air.

During this past week, there have been periods when I’ve found my Blackberry alerts annoying. I confess this morning is one of those times. This is a new thing to me as I am not normally bothered by this. It’s probably an extension of becoming annoyed at getting three and sometimes four e-mails a day from places like Borders, Barns & Nobel, and Bass Pro.

I will confess that I thought this past week about doing one of those crazy year-end/holiday letters. You know the long ones people send out that go on and on about their year in review? It was a devious thought on my part and actually the only reason I decided not to do it was because it would be so pitifully boring unless I made stuff up.

Hum…. maybe I should rethink this idea, the year isn’t over yet.

That’s it for this week. Thanks for listening. Everyone stay safe and enjoy the holiday!

The Challenge to Internet neutrality

You don't have to look any further then Internet neutrality to see the classic differences between Democrats and Republicans; as evidenced by the following from Wired:

Many Republicans, including FCC commissioner Robert McDowell, blasted the new rules as an interventionist over-reach by an activist federal regulator intent on asserting control over the internet. Meanwhile, Democrats, including Sen. Al Franken from Minnesota, along with public interest and free speech groups, slammed the rules as woefully inadequate to protect the public from the privations of an industry keen on turning the internet into a cyber-version of cable TV, with tiers and premium packages affordable by the wealthy.

Odds and Ends

A few odds and ends I though of interest~

• "If I hadn't known lots of beautiful poetry, I couldn't have made it."  That's how 99 year old Evelyn  Vernon describes her survival after being trapped for 22 hours after she slipped and fell in her bathtub. (survivors club)
• Should poets be lead the charge of social/political change in their work, or reflect thoughtfully on the sidelines? (The Guardian books-blog)
• The Huffington Post gathered its list of the seventeen "most important poetry books of fall 2010.
• The media claim the president has "lost control of his narrative." So (The Daily Beast) we asked Margaret Atwood, Sam Lipsyte and other fiction masters to offer tips for the president to fix his storyline.
• Is your e-reader checking up on you? Creepy! (NPR)

It's a Jolly Holi-dog Celebration!