Dead Writers Cologne - How can you not be inspired?

Looking for a little  inspiration or maybe the perfect gift for that writer friend?  How could you go wrong with Dead Writer cologne?

I  know you have a puzzled What? look on your face about now but consider according to J.T. Siems, "This blend evokes the feeling  of sitting in an old library chair paging through yellowed copies of Hemingway, Shakespeare, Fitzgerald, Poe and more. The Dead Writers blend makes you want to put on a kettle of black tea and curl up with your favorite book."

Simes is the Seattle brain (or nose) behind this enterprise. It's a unisex blend and it's available here.

*Note this is not and endorsement of the product. I have not tried it but it is curiously intriguing.

Pope Peeps

My wife was searching the web and sent me a link to some items that she though would interest me and bingo, we have a winner! (She knows me well)

What would Easter be without Peeps? I love Peeps - probably not the best thing for diabetics. They do make a sugar free variety these days and they are not bad.

Fortunately for Catholics worldwide, well will not have to go through Easter without a Pope. And as you can see at the left, we has Pope Peeps thanks to The Monkey Cage. They outfitted a whole Papal Conclave of Peeps in red felt Cardinal suites. Is that not a crack-up?

Confession Tuesday - Lazy Edition

Another week has come and gone. Let's go to the confessional.

Dear Reader:

I confess that I'm being lazy tonight. I'm doing this blog post from my phone because I don't want to fire up my laptop.

I confrss that I've slacked off on reading. I have several books started and this psst week have not gotten much further into any of them. I hope to read some tonight when I finish my confession.

I have say that I enjoyed getting reacquainted with Bailey's Sunday. It's been a while since I have indulged in any. I confess I like it a little bit too much.

The past two nights I've had itchy eyes. I went out and bought some eye drops last night but I confess they are again annoying me. Right now i'm so annoyed by them I feel like poking them out. Ok,  not really but obvioudly have had the thought enter my mind.

I don't know what it is but I've read a bunch of really good poems the past few days. These are for the most part from poets new to me. I confess it's strange that so many of them have struck me as especially enjoyable.  Perhaps I will share links to some of them in a blog post later this week.

I confess that's all I have to give tonight. Have a good week...

Amen

An Irish Blessing

May joy and peace surround you,

Contentment latch your door,

And happiness be with you now,

And bless you evermore.

Hey Hey it's Saturday...

 So what's the big deal?

Ok, the big deal is this... I started organizing myself so that I do my submissions on Saturday. I just finished this week's. Yeah!

Last week was the start of this new plan/habit. Maybe it's too early to call it a habit yet, but I have accomplished my planned submissions now two Saturdays in a row. In addition, last Saturday I was an over achiever and submitted someplace in addition to my plan.

Now about the plan. I am trying to plan at least three months in advance. That assures a couple of things. Each quarter of a year I now want I need to do for that period of time. Since I check the reading dates I can make sure I'm getting material to the various Journals and venues that I want to be in and not miss their deadlines or like I've often done, realize on Friday night that a deadline is two or three days away and I've given no thought to what I'd be sending so in the pressure of it all I say, "F it" and just let it pass.  "F it" is a well developed form of procrastination for me.

So you see, this not only affords me better control over my calendar of submissions but it also assures that I have time to explore the best fit for my work. Let's face it, if you don't take the time to explore best options and you just slap together three to five poems and send the out, can you really be surprised when they come back in your face rejected?  If you want an editor to truly take time to consider your work, take some time and be thoughtful about what might be a best fit for the Journal you are submitting to. Are you always going to nail it? No, but it's better then throwing the spaghetti noodles on the wall to see if they stick.

I've said it before, I hate submitting work. I'd rather write then submit. But no one has ever come up to me and said "Hey, give me something, anything and I'll publish it." And if they did, I might not want to be in what they just published.

So from now on, if it's Saturday, It's Submission Saturday! I've actually felt good these past two Saturdays after achieving my submission objective. So maybe I'll start to like this thing. Or, at least not hate it so much.

In both instances I've felt so good when I was finished, since I was at my laptop I just kept on working either with rewrites or starting new stuff.

Confession Tuesday on Wednesday

Dear Reader:

I confess I’m slipping into the confessional late for Confession Tuesday. I see you are already aware I am tardy. In my own defense I was at a poetry group meeting last night.

We did an impromptu write – pulling our prompt from a box passed around. I prompt was to write about my favorite trip or vacation during my teen years. I confess this was really hard because as I thought about it, the most remarkable thing about vacations as a teenager was that they were unremarkable. I got something down on paper but honestly I had to really lower my standards to choose a favorite.

Arriving home last night my wife had not eaten yet. I went out to get us fast food. Later, we were watching TV just before turning in and my daughter who had just come home came in to say good night. My wife asked if anyone had any chocolate for her. I confess that she has been dropping not too settle hints for several days she is craving chocolate and I confess that I’ve been neglectful in appropriately delivering on the chocolate hints. Note to self, don’t home without chocolate tonight!

I confess my body is still rejecting the time change from the weekend. Maybe I’ll get it together by this weekend.

I confess that I've been trying to hold out the past two days from making a call to my chiropractor to see if she could work me in on an emergent basis. I have my regular appointment tonight for adjustment and trigger-points. I see the light in the tunnel.

I confess that I have so many apps on my phone that if I were ever to get stranded in the woods someplace I’d have to immediately dump all my apps to conserve battery until I could be located. 

I confess I have no idea why I was even thinking about the possibility of being lost or stranded someplace.

Amen~

The Mag 159: The Cycle

Meal Beach, Burra Isles, Shetland by Robin Gosnall

Listen to the power.

A clean white foam pushed

from behind by a blue-green hand

then pulled back.

The sand wet,

beach reticent briefly-

then the flapping 

and laughing of disquieted Seagulls

in the distance; then closer

until deafening.  

As the white foam reappears

the gulls circle out to sea

watching, awaiting 

the powerful wall of water 

once again push in 

and take back.

In mocking fashion 

the birds do it all over. 

 

Michael A. Wells

The Mag 159

The Mag 158: All Is Spilled

Photo by TheFoxAndTheRaven

All is spilled

There is nothing more

I romanticize. Not bath

nor sleep. Not the ache 

of empty night. 

The voices are of no comfort.

They press me awake endless hours

Is this an inquisition? 

Must I answer? I am pulverized, 

strained through a cauldron 

of one sided talk-

I look to my wrist

I look for answers

I look, I look...

Michael A. Wells

The Mag 158

  

Talking to Poems

So it's Friday night and what are you doing?

Me, I'm transitioning from Diet Coke to Chardonnay.  I've been working for several hours on a poem and our conversation had grown old and tiring so I've stopped for now.

Do you talk to your poems? Ok, more specifically your poems in progress. Drafts. First drafts, second drafts, twenty third drafts?

My conversation with this evening's poem-in-making has started out asking  a single line where it would like to go. It said take me to the other side of what you just said. So I said ok and abridged. I asked what will we do after we've contradicted our opening line. I go no response. (sipping wine) I don't know about you but when I ask a direct question of a poem-in-making I expect at least that it will clear it's throat and appear to be thinking of a reply. I was about to repeat the question when it said you assume too much.

I'm not sure how I feel about a poem - especially one in the making assuming it knows what I'm assuming. I thought it important at this point to make it clear that I had no preconceived notions about where this poem was going. It quickly shot back, "Good!"

I studied my words on the page.  Flipped a stanza. Cut some words. Another "Good" arose from the page. "You approve then?" I asked. I was told yes, but for the time being. I thought about moving the opening line to another location in the poem. Cautiously I was told that was worth considering, but encouraged to consider too making the opening line the title of the poem instead. I said I'd keep that in mind.

My head is spinning at this point and I suggested that I really thought it might me time to step back and let this all rest upon the page a while. Maybe overnight. There was a sigh...  "No offense, but working with you can be tiring."  I responded, "Oh, you think so?" and I saved the work in progress.

Confession Tuesday

It's Tuesday and I'm moving slowly to the confessional because it's been the kind of day and evening where I'm not to certain it's good to put too much stock in my forward motion. But I'm here so let's get started.

Dear Reader:

I confess that there have been a couple nights this past week where I've come home and pretty much blown off the evening. This is easy to do if I've had a particularly crazy day at work. Actually today would be a good example. A day when you are just beaten down with work and after a full day of it feel you have not made any headway against your work load. It's days like that I come home - do the minimal I need to do, then crash and burn. Don't like it when I'm like this - looking to break from this, find a way to slowly unwind and then do something productive. 

For several years now I have observed the annual anticipation of, the hoop-la and the afterglow of AWP. I must insert for the record that the observation has all been from afar. I've not been to AWP. I've seen people rave about the contact with other writers that they might not have met otherwise. They talk about great panel discussions, swoon over treasure troves of books and of course there are the readings.  Occasionally I have read blog posts or Facebook post from those who start by indicating they are not going to AWP this year and then in some silly and demeaning way poke fun at the conformance. I confess I have chuckled as I have read through some of these pieces, yet I wonder if the writer is not really just using humor to mask disappointment for not being there.  I confess that I'm intrigued by what I have heard of the conformance and     

yes a bit jealous of those attending. 

I confess the return of sunlight after all our snow has been uplifting. I confess that we still have mountains of snow and that the sunlight on it is blinding, but I was going blind from the abundance of white everywhere anyway. 

I confess that I'm ready for Spring. 

Amen.

The Planning Poet

Friday and Saturday I did some writing and was pleased with the progress. Tonight I've taken another route. Tonight I'm the Planning Poet. I've spent time scouring the various venues for publication with concentration on submissions for the next 90 days. I'm identifying who I want to submit to and matching my calendar with their reading periods.

One thing I'm being is realistic. I'm not trying to send work to 10 places in one weekend. First, I want to be able to stay on a steady work schedule. The last thing I want to do is set myself up for failure from the start.

Knowing at the beginning of one week what publication I am focusing on that coming weekend allows me time for quality forethought to each submission package.

I've gone crazy cranking out submissions in the past like all in one weekend and they instantly cold for months. It's no secret, I said it many times before, I dislike the process of submitting work. Still, I'm well aware that it's all part of the process. Unless I'm just going to write and throw all my work in a trunk and forget about it, then I need to get real about my commitment to the whole process.

By the end of May, I'll let you know how this is all working out for me.

Confession Tuesday - Recklessness and Poetry Edition

Welcome to the confessional  - I'm just about to start...

Dear Friends:

It's been a week and maybe 17 inches since my last confession.

I confess that if it's Tuesday, I'm confused. Or Snow Blind, or both!  Confused because due to a big storm that dumped maybe about 11 inches (give or take) on us last Thursday - I ended up with a 4 day weekend when they shut down work.  I go to work Monday but another winter storm advisory for Monday -Tuesday caused them to shut down again today.  The conditions this morning were complicated by a mixture of sleet and snow. It looks like about another 6 inches on top of the previously 11. All of this change in work routine complicates my cognitive view of the  calendar.

There was a very nice man that helped free my car on Thursday when I drove back from the office only 40 minutes after arriving when they shut everything down. I don't know his name but thank you!

I confess that if we have to shovel the drive for any additional snow, I have no clue where to put it. It's stacked out front about as high as it can go.

Normalcy is now abnormal and it is challenging in ways I'd never imagined. It's easy to feel stir crazy inside, but it seems so white every which way you look that everything outside looks the same so it's hard to feel there is much deviation inside or out.

I confess that Monday at the office it became clear that snow was not the only thing piling up. So were phone messages and work. I confess that it is to the point that being away from the office is not relaxing but stressful because at some point I will have to deal with what I can only imagine is a dam breaking and the work flooding everywhere.

Sunday I had the marvelous experience of auditing a Dean Young Master Class at UMKC. I confess that I am even more impressed with Dean Young then I was before and he had already been on my radar. What I found Sunday was that his whole view of poetry so fits into my own concept but he is able to articulate what that is far better then I have been able to.

I also had reservations to attend his reading/New Letters interview Monday night at the Library.  Even as they were telling us mid-day that the impending storm was going to be severe enough that they would already shut down the offices the next day, I hoped that the evening weather would relent. I hoped that the Library would not cancel the event.  I stayed in town at 5:00 instead of heading home. I checked with the library and they were closing the library at 7PM but the Dean Young event would go on. So with reckless abandon I chose to risk it and go to the event. By the grace of God the sky that looked so ominous held off until the event was over and I pulled into our drive. The the sleet came, then the snow.

I confess that I now have to read The Art of Recklessness: Poetry as Assertive Force and Contradiction.     

I confess that I am trying not to think about the mountain of work growing at the office, but I think I can actually hear it and it's hard to ignore.

Really Good Weekend

Yesterday and today I had some really good karma going on or something because some pieces that I have been working on really started to come together.  Other upbeat things to report....

• Audited a Master Class taught by Dean Young. It was both a thrill and a real learning experience.
• Yesterday I got some submissions out that I've procrastinated over. 
• Surprise of the afternoon, Dana Guthrie Martin was at the master class and she recognized me and introduced herself. 

And Tomorrow:

Dean Young will be reading and doing a live interview for New Letters on the Air tomorrow night at the Plaza Branch Public Library at 6:30.  Call the Library 816-701-3407 for reservations.  There is a 6:00 reception prior to the event. 

Confession Tuesday

Dear Reader:

It's Tuesday. Again. I think. Three day weekends mess me up big time. Having Monday off (making a three day weekend) only makes me long for more days off.  So, I confess that I really wanted today to be Friday. REALLY badly.

But of course today is only Tuesday and so here I am again shamefully acknowledging I'd rather frolic tomorrow, or quite frankly do nothing. That would be fine by me.  Nothing seems easier for me to contemplate then at times in the past. I always think my weekends or any day off needs to be filled with things to do that I am not doing because I'm at work. I'm finding that I really am all right with down time. I confess this is a big deal for me. I think it's a positive thing. It says to me that I am getting better about the whole idea of relaxing and not worrying so much about my life slipping away. That has been a difficult trepidation for me throughout most of my life. I don't think I'm over it, but this little positive sign I will claim as a victory for now.

Maybe I can attribute some of it to the 6 weeks I've been doing the Artist's Way program. It's really the only thing that I can think of that would have impacted my mindset on this. If this is the case, I'm optimistic that the final 6 weeks of the program will have other breakthroughs in store for me.

I've been trying this Lent to be observant of the positive in others. This is also a constant reminder that I need to be vigilant in my own positivities. (I think I just made up a word)  Maybe I mean positiveness but I kind of like positivities better. Tonight I was driving home from the office and had agreed that I would try to get home swiftly as possible because my wife wanted to go check on her mother and didn't want to be out too late. But of course this would be a night in which there was a rush hour accident on Interstate 70. I confess that I caught myself getting annoyed at other drivers who were not attentive to the traffic flow. Right there in the car I had a smack down with myself about my righteous attitude. But at least I did a quick mid-course correction and got myself back on the right track. My Lenten GPS system did it's job.

Well, I've spent another Tuesday evening Confession session with you. That's all I've got. Hope your week stays sunny-side up!

Barry knows....

Nap... It does a body good! 

Reading Sylvia Plath 50 Years after her death is a different experance

 Poet Tess Taylor reflects on how we read Sylvia Plath's poetry,  50 years after her death.


Source NPR 

Confession Tuesday - Lenten Edition

Dear Reader:

It's been one week since my last confession.  It's late and I must confess that I'd rather not be rushing to get this done.

I confess that I often find myself rushing to get things finished and for someone who wants badly to be organized, this is a sign I'm not. Tomorrow begins Lent and lent is an action word. That's what we used to call verbs in school, and yes Lent is a verb. If it's not verb to you then you are probably dealing with lint and you need to clean that out of your dryer... but I digress.

I've decided that for Lent I am going to work harder about getting things done in a timely manner. About planning ahead for this to happen.

I am also going to spend a bit of time meditating daily on when I see in others/the world that is positive/good in hopes that I can in turn find myself to be more positive.

The last thing that is a part of my Lenten (action plan) is to give up a certain word. It's not a bad word. Hell no, I'm not giving up those ;)  This I confess is a word I actually really like. A word that the whole structure of the word is cool to me if you break it down. It's a word I (and I think many others) greatly overuse.  Of course I confess that I'm being a bit judgmental when I speak of others, but I feel like for me personally I've become lazy in my use of the word. I mean really, awesome is such an awesome word that I think there are times that maybe something can better be described another way. So yes, I've giving up the word awesome during Lent. Therefore, I will have to be a little more creative in my response to things that are awe inspiring.

So that's my Lenten plan in a nutshell.

I confess that I'm really excited that pitchers and catchers have reported to spring training camps. Like the Easter season this reminds me of the renewal of spring, of life. Of new beginnings.

I confess that I've been writing less lately and pushing myself or trying to force my writing to be what I want. This week I'm going to take the approach that I not be so self critical, get it on a page and I can go back and work out things in rewrite.

It's late and I confess that I'm finished.

Amen

Sylvia Plath - October 27, 1932 – February 11, 1963

"I wonder about all the roads not taken and am moved to quote Frost...but I won't. It is sad to be able only to mouth other poets. I want someone to mouth me."  - Sylvia Plath

Confession Tuesday - Six Degrees from The Following

Tuesdays come and go and before this one is gone I must get my confession in. Come along to the confessional...

Dear Reader:

It's been one week of nagging coughs and sinus drainage. One week of antibiotics. 173 used Kleenexes and here we are.

I confess I've had it with this stuff. Sinus infection/crud whatever it is and I'm thinking about resorting to a witch doctor. Remember, it's only weird if it doesn't work.

I have to say my next item to get off my chest is one that I really hate to bring up, but I will in part because I'm wondering if others are feeling the same. There is a Monday night show called The Following on Fox. It stars Kevin Bacon so I think we are all connected to it in some way. ;)

Here's the deal... Bacon plays a former FBI that put away a English Professor who was a serial killer that had a fixation on Poe. The killer escapes brutally, killing a number of prison guards and then killing a survivor of his past attacks before he is apprehended again. But he has a network of followers who continue to strike in the community on his behalf and Bacon of course was brought back into the picture after his escape because no one knows him better. Now to the confession part. My wife and I have watched all three episodes so far. The show is especially brutal though the first episode significantly more so the the past two. I confess the show is troublingly brutal and yet I continue to watch it. I wonder if others feel this same way. I've never been a person who watches horror movies - this is so out of character for me. The fact that I continue to watch it leaves me feeling unsettled. Friends recommended Dexter to us last year and we got CD from them of the first season but I have to tell you that show was freak'n creepy. After maybe 4 episodes we bailed on it. 

On the upbeat seen I confess that I was elated to receive my copy of O Holy Insurgency by Mary Biddinger in the mail this weekend. Biddinger earlier book Saint Monica was such a spectacular read that I have been hot to get my hands on this new one. I've started reading and first impressions are that it is smack-bang imposing! I'll have more to say about it later... I have to peel all the many layers back. :)

It's been a long day and I plan on reading before it gets too late so this is my confession wrap.

Have a great week... and go buy Mary Biddinger's book! 

Confession Tuesday - late edition

I confess that this confession is late due in part to being sick and part due to an Rx with codeine in it.

I confess that yesterday I  hit a brick wall with steel reinforcement. 

I confess I did not do my morning pages yesterday.  Some will no what that is and others won't. All that is important here is they didn't get done.

I confess that I recall little about my week prior to yesterday so I confess that I'm both late and done. Stick a fork in me.