Tom Brokaw Turns to Poetry During Battle With Cancer

Thomas McGuane interviews Tom Brokaw

Growing up and being especially politically oriented I watched the evening news religiously.

People of my generation will often recall Walter Cronkite and rave about his professionalism as a TV journalist. In the pre-cable news days, I believe the quality of the news reporting was far more professional. I'll certainly give Cronkite the respect he deserves as really a pioneer in TV News  but the two TV journalists that I really felt continued to exemplify professionalism were Peter Jennings and Tom Brokaw.

Of course we lost Jennings some years ago at a much too early age. Tom Brokow  remains with us and he is to me a dean of TV journalism. A reporter so many Americans tuned into almost nightly. It was how we got the news back then. It wasn't entertainment, it was how people who cared about the world, enlightened themselves. It informed our view of people and events.

Brokaw was diagnosed with multiple myeloma but the good news is his cancer is in remission. If there is anything  good that can come from having cancer Brokaw may have found it. During his two years of treatment he turned to poetry as a means to cope with his illness. In a CNN article he talks about it and some of the poets who have crossed his path during this period. Some cool stories. Brokaw is set to release a book about his cancer struggles.

Confession Tuesday

Dear Reader:

It's been a week since my last confession.

This past week seems to have gone quickly. Often times the weekends seem that way but I confess not so much the work week. But this one did and I can't quite explain why.Of course I'd like the weekends to dally a little bit more but I'm fine with the work weeks speeding up. (I may have just jinxed Thursday and Friday.)

One of the things that I like about the Timehop application is that because I often shoot pictures of new books when I get them and start reading and post them,  A year later, two years later I get reminded what I was reading back then. I think this is cool but I confess that I may well be the only one.

In a weird sort of phenomena I confess that I've been writing lots of short phrases lately. Not connected to anything in particular. Hopefully, I will find a way to make use of  some of them by connecting to other word groupings to form the creation of some poems with them.

I confess that I was writing the word lasagna and I wanted to add about three more letters to it.  It just looked so inadequate unless I piled on a few more layers of letters.

That's it for this week.  I said it went  fast. ;-)

Everyone be safe and come back next week.

The Mag #259 It's A Clown Thing

I will not be swallowed by your rotund
laughter. Nor pierced by your carnival
eyes.  No, what I would do is to reach,
into your face in that way you disrespect
my personal space, and with much malice
squeeze that bogus red nose of yours.

Who was it that first decided for us
that clowns and children go together?
Is there a requirement by The International
Clown Workers Union that their painted faces
must incorporate a systemic sociopathic
flat affect to go with their smile?

Never reassuring, never comical.
If it were not for such faces, we might
find your big blue feet funny.  We might
laugh at your baggy clothing. But no,
your face freaks us out - it's so obvious.
It's the first thing we see, and all I want
to do, is honk your nose and run.


Michael Allyn Wells


The Mag

New Poetry to Read - Just in Time For The Weekend

What better way to start a weekend than to come home from work and find a new poetry book in your mailbox?

Earth by Cecilia Woloch is the Winner of the 2014 Two Sylvias Press Chapbook Prize.

I've previously read her poetry collection titled Late and  found it to be a well crafted and thought provoking.  I am expecting good things from this read.
The chapbook prize for this book was the first made by Two Sylvias Ptess and the contest was judged by Aimee Nezhukumatathil.

Confession Tuesday - Pre-Lenten Edition

Dear Reader:                                                                    

It has been some serious weeks since I did my last Confession Tuesday and when I was thinking about this last night I was at a loss for for what I would say. I almost thought I'd take a pass on this week too.  Frankly I often sit down and start without a clue so it hardly seemed rational for me to use this a a basis to skip it again.

As it turns out several things started coming to me. It was as if a great sea had pulled back exposing things one by one as the water receded - metaphorically speaking of course.

I confess there is something I most definitely need to acknowledge. During this past week a family member in a very dangerous situation came home safely. I cannot over-emphasize how providential this was. Sometimes I take things for granted and I know better. This was definitely a know better situation and the good Lord was there.

I confess that yesterday morning I surprised my wife by shoveling the walkway after an overnight snow. I went out and did this before leaving for work. She asked, Who shoveled our walk?" I confess I surprised myself too. (disclaimer - the snow was pretty light)

I have been feeling a bit like a shut-in. One of our daughters has been borrowing our car as hers seems to have bit the dust. She comes by every morning to get me for work and picks me up in the evening so its not really quite like I'm not getting out. If you call work getting out. I was thinking about it tonight and confess I am seeing this all wrong. I'm not a shut-in, I have a limousine service. (It really is all about the attitude)

Baseball is around the corner. Okay, maybe around the corner and down  the block but Pitchers and Catchers report to the Giants training camp tomorrow. I confess that I ready for the games to begin.

Speaking of around the corner. Tomorrow is Ash Wednesday the beginning of Lent. I was thinking about this yesterday because I generally make some kind of commitment related to Lent and from year to year it has varied in scope. Sometimes I've given up something for Lent and other times I've given up giving up something for Lent. This year I am going to write a poem for each of the 40 days of Lent. You may be wondering what exactly is spiritually reflective about this and I confess I don't have an answer for you. But I will tell you that in addition to the poems I am going to make an effort daily to try and find the good in people that especially annoy me. I am also going to make a special effort to be kind to everyone I come into contact with. We never know what kind of cross others are carrying.

The forty days of lent and 40 poems will take me up to Easter Sunday just days before I leave for AWP#15 in Minneapolis. I so wanted to go to AWP last year in  Seattle but that was not to be.  How this trip has come about is another miracle in and of itself. I confess that I am excited about it as well as nervous about it but I intend to be a sponge and soak up as much as I can from the experience.  I understand it can be a bit overwhelming and I will be traveling with my twin personalities Introvert and Extrovert. Of these brothers the shy Introvert will likely dominate things but I'm hopeful that his outgoing brother Extrovert will have his moments too. This will be a first time for me at AWP so if anyone has advice I'm a captive listener.

So that's it folks until next Tuesday when well let you know how the poems are coming  and if kindness prevails.  Until then, be safe.

The Language of Love

The Eskimos had fifty-two names for snow because it was important to them: there ought to be as many for love.~ Margaret Atwood

Mark Strand's "Eating Poetry" is Featured in This Year's National Poetry Month Poster

I love what they have done for the NPM poster this year, don't you?

Saturday Mashup

The weather was decent today and I walked to Target as one of my daughters has borrowed our car. It was a chance to get some sunshine as I did some #amwriting.

Late afternoon, instead of doing my Saturday Submission (I will make it up tomorrow) I chose to watch the first episode of the mini-series Dr. Zhivago. I can't remember how long ago it was that I saw the original move made in 1965 staring Omar Sharif, Julie Christie, Geraldine Chaplin  and Rod Steiger.
The story is coming back to me, I would like to see the original again. My wife and I saw it and I don't recall if it was while we were dating or after we married but in any event  it would have been earl to mid 1970's.

It was kind of nice to get lost in something on TV that was not a sit-com, reality show, or our normal variety of television. A little like getting lost in a book but a little less mentally involved.

The tree on the left probably seems a little random. It's a tree that I passed on my walk. In my "poet observer mode" I shot a couple of photos just for the heck of it. Nothing majorly significant but I did like the contrast in the shadow of the closest main branch off the trunk. I wondered to myself what it might look like if I had a camera set up on a tripod that remained in the same location and over an 8 hour period shot a picture of the tree once each hour. It would be interesting to see how this contrasting light and shadow might change.

Tonight it's a little colder and we've had some precipitation that started. It's 57 degrees and I don't think the temperature is supposed to drop much more overnight so I'm not expecting a freeze.
Silas when out briefly and it was barely misting and he came in with his coat pretty wet. His fur is so thick that it pretty much beads up on the top layer of hair and never really penetrates deep into the fir. He appears to be down for the night now and looking at the time I should be too.

Finished up the pages of one of my journals and started a new one by quoting a inspiring few lines from a poem by another poet. Words that are constant reminders what it means to practice an art. In my case, poetry.

Confession Tuesday - What a difference a week makes

For Real?

Dear Reader:

It's been a week since my last confession. A week of cold days and beautiful days. A short work week and a long weekend.

I confess that I easily get spoiled when I have a Monday holiday tacked on a weekend. I also tend to be confused about the day during the rest of the work week.

When I came to you last week I expressed a variety of emotions but one was a disappointment I did not go into details but it centered on not hearing that I made cut in a program that I was exceptionally excited about. I was under the impression that the deadline for notification had come and passed I since I heard nothing I assumed I was out of the running.  Yes, I confess that I moped about it  a bit but decided that  it was a real long shot and quickly  got over it. I chose to consider it just one of those down sides to life that would be counter balanced by something good. And as I also mentioned last week something did happen that I expressly felt blessed by.

Skip forward to today. What a difference a week can make, because this afternoon I opened my email and nearly fell off my chair because there in my email was a new arrival that in fact was the news I was looking for a week ago. I had not been passed over.

I confess I was so totally taken by surprise and excited and this has sort of overshadowed everything since my last confession.

Confession Tuesday - Blessings Edition

Dear Reader:

Sometimes I don't quite know where to start on Confession Tuesday. Life can be funny. You can go through a week and think back and nothing or everything jumps out at you. Sometimes you don't know what on earth you are going to confess and sometimes there are so many places you can go you don't know what to whittle it down to. This week is neither of those.

As I look at this past week there are three places that I need to go with this confession. I will work sort of in reverse order of the magnitude of these .

On Saturday I turned  #@. I confess that I always meet my birthdays with a mixtd perspective. I'm not especially enamored by being a year older yet I am happy to be here given the alternative. Age has always been difficult to me.  I did have a wonderful dinner with part of my family that was available. We dined at the Olive Garden. Among those present was Harper. I confess that Harper brings so much joy to life. She is my granddaughter and she is so stinking cute that I'm certain it cannot be legal. She is going to be a talker. At just under three months old she can jabber up a storm. My daughter tagged me with a Happy Birthday video of her on Facebook. I've listened to it so many times It could seem like it went viral. So, altogether my birthday was a plus. I am grateful  to be alive and - life is good!

It would however not be a life without disappointments. They are after all the valley by which we measure the elevation of the mountains. I was disappointed this past week by something related to my writing that did not happen. Details aren't important. What is important is that like everyone else who ever pursues something - you sometimes have hopes that  do not fully address reasonable expectations. I'm accustomed to rejection letters and they rarely phase me. But this was something the left me feeling down on Friday - the day before my birthday. I am reconciled with the matter now. I know more about the situation to understand the long odds of the program.  I view this disappointment and greater understanding as a blessing- something I would never have said on Friday.

The last of this week's confessions is more tricky. It starts at a place unlike the previous with absolutely no expectation. As it turns out I was the beneficiary of very generous gift. It came from a family member who said they were led to do what they did by the Holy Spirit. Again, the details of the gift are not the story here, the story is that this came from out of nowhere. My first reaction was oh hell no, It's not something I feel deserving of. It's a significant sacrifice. But I in no way question that this person prayed about this and feels strongly about being moved by the Holy Spirit in this direction. As uncomfortable as this makes me on one hand, it is undeniably a blessing. How can one argue with the Holy Spirit and the love of the giver.

I have laid out before you three confessions. Through it all this week has been a week of blessings.
I'm thankful for the life I have, the people in it, and these blessings. I look forward to what is ahead...

Amen~

Confession Tuesday - I'm No Gymnast Edition

Dear Reader:

I have been a fallen away confessor. It's true, and I can't recall how many weeks have passed since my last Confession Tuesday or any other day for that matter.

So, I come to you tonight repentant and I confess a little nonchalant.  You see, the time off work for the Christmas holiday and the soon to be New Year holiday is cramping my serious style.

I confess that over Christmas I read leasurly and wrote the same way. Some time I write with abandonment but not over the holiday. And I admit that I enjoyed the more laid back approach that I took. I'm pretty much ready for more of that over New Year's break.

I confess that I love getting reading and writing related materials in the mail. New poetry book recently that I mentioned in my last post. New Poet's and Writer's Magazine and like two days later the latest copy of The Writer's Chronicle. I could be really happy if I only got this sort of stuff in the mail instead of bills. I know, who wouldn't. I get so excited when Poet's and Writer's is in the mailbox I do cartwheels into the house with it. I must also confess that I sometime exaggerate my gymnastic capabilities. I think going up the walk with the magazine in had I may have once tripped and fell forward.

My wife and I went to the half price book store tonight after work. Had a gift card and there was a 20% off sale. I got three items and still have money left on the card. I confess that made the trip (insert a synonym for awesome here).  Couple of years ago - maybe it was last year I forget, but I gave up "that word" for lent (among other things) and I have to say that it has crept back into my vocabulary at an alarming rate. Anyway, it's starting to annoy me again. Maybe this should be a resolution for 2015 - to put the word to rest again. Maybe I should make up my own replacement word. Humm.... something to to think about.

Well, I confess I'm confessed out, but I will be back next week, Promise!

Currently I'm Reading: - Gods of Water and Air by Rachel Dacus

Every once and a while you read a phrase, a sentence or stanza that you wish you had written...

Last night the full moon in perigee
rose, a coin so bright
it could buy back any sorrow. 

From the poem I Live At The Bottom of the Earth 
By Rachel Dacus.

Writing Thought for the Day

“The master said You must write what you see.

But what I see does not move me.

The master answered Change what you see.”

-          -Louise Gluck , Vita Nova

Mag 248: Their Union

Bond of Union - 1956 - M.C. Escher

It seems hard to acclimate themselves.

Each questioning their bearings. 

Each unwinding their individuality.

Each individual struggling to be themselves.

By their union they have unwrapped  

a bit of who they were and have become

yet a third person--

She feels her ball bearings free

and He, his. They seem lost 

and at the same time found.

Sometimes they feel they have left behind

a simpler time. A time when their thoughts

and feelings traveled within a tighter orbit.

It was different then. Not to say it was better.

Not to say it was worse. Just less complex.  

The Mag 248

Michael Allyn Wells

MAG 247 - Snowstorm

Snowstorm - Maurice de Vlaminck

There is harsh

biting winter 

with winds that cut 

your cheeks, water your eyes

blurring your vision.

A winter that numbs

your toes till you think 

they have fallen off.

A winter that stiffens

your back and neck

till you think you are

the only living example

of rigor mortis.

And there is the winter

with bare trees

whose branches lift

the snow in praise.

The winter whose sky

paints a canpoy

with white and shadows 

that cover us for days,

even weeks. 

The ground, the roads,

virgin white at first, 

the metamorphosis 

into sculptured drifts

ashen ruts in streets

a blinding cover

far as the eye can see.

Michael Allyn Wells

The Mag 247

Poetic License

The Bearer of this Poetic License is hereby authorized to split infinitives, dangle participles and misplace modifiers for, but not limited to, literary effect without judgment, penalty, or impediment.

Confession Tuesday - Catching Up Edition

Dear Reader:  It's been a month and 4 days since my last confession.

I confess I am a grandfather. To the right you will see Harper. Harper is a little over a month old. It was during my last confession on the October 14 that  we started our watch for Harper but she would not arrive until the next day. Related to Harper I confess the following:

• I confess I am grateful that mother and granddaughter are doing well.
• I confess I am releaved that Harper has hair - and lots of it.
• I confess that I have read poems to Harper but don't tell her mother.
• I confess she resembles both her mother and father.
• I confess I can't decide what is cutest - eyes, mouth, nose or fingers. 
• I confess being a grandfather has not made me feel older (I already felt ancient)

Along with the arrival of Harper October brought the final month of baseball for the year. I have the unique position of living in Kansas City but being a San Francisco Giants fan for many years.  There are some people who actually thought my geographical location would win out and I'd root for the Royals. Some in my family  hinted that  I might consider this though I'm unsure if any truly expected me to be for them. One daughter said one night she was torn, could we be for both. My reply was a swift no! Not since the Civil War has a family  been so divided.

At work on days everyone was going Blue I went Orange. There were people at work that definitely believe I had some sort of obligation to change my allegiance though anyone who knew me knew I was a very avid Giants fan.  

I confess that there were strengths that the Royals possessed that I felt could make for a tough series. I felt the Giants had the advantage in pitching. I felt the Royals were equal or better in defense. The Royals definitely had speed on bases and it was there I was most worried. I felt offensively they were a mixture - Royals more power - Giants greater patience at the plate and likely better batting average.

That it would go 7 games did not surprise me. I thought it might be decided in 6 but never saw it as a 4 game sweep by either team. 

I confess that the entire post season drama was quite a ride. Yes, I allowed it to cut into my writing time. Am I proud of that, no. Would I do it again? under the circumstances, most definitely. 

My normal winter wear is a 2010 Giants World Series jacket. I've actually  worn Giants coats in winter for over two decades so this is nothing new. But in all those years I was just a Kansas City guy wearing another team jacket  that local people associated with nothing in particular. Occasionally people would ask me if I was from the bay area. I'd tell them no, but I love it out there and if I could afford it, I'd make my home there. 

Last night I stopped at the grocery store one the way home from work to do some shopping. As I was getting in line a gentleman and his wife came up to me. The man stuck the palm out in front of me and said, "I want to shake your hand, you have to be one tough dude the wear that coat in this town. That takes a lot of courage." I shook his hand and smiled - never thought of it as courage, just pride. 

Amen. 

Secrets of Creativity

"That's the great secret of creativity. You treat ideas like cats: 

you make them follow you.” - Ray Bradbury, Zen in the Art of Writing

Confession Tuesday - Autograph Edition

Dear Reader:

As I hit my two week streak of making it to the Tuesday Confessional I amaze myself. I've been so hit and miss (mostly miss) lately that  this feels like a major life accomplishment. I confess that  I'm rather happy with myself for showing up to do this. Mostly because I realize that in anything we do in life, showing up is a big part of making things happen.

After work tonight I caught the Giants - Cardinals NLCS game three and was delighted by San Francisco's win. There was a very cliche MLB ad campaign a few seasons back that  said, "We Live For This."  When my team is in post season play, that is exactly  how I feel. Baseball is like poetry to me. It has the raw emotion that can sometimes change with a single pitch. It's methodical to some degree and that provides the lyrical quality. There are few things athletically that have the grace of a well turned 6-4-3 double play. But this time of year is very bittersweet because no matter how your team  fairs, it will all stop one night with one final play and the field like all the others will go dark and quiet and ultimately be blanketed by snow. And as a fan, you will be faced with no more day-to-day grind. Winter will pass agonizingly slow until finally spring comes with new hope and another season of what we live for.

Tonight, as I write this our family is also awaiting word on the birth of our first grandchild.  My daughter is at the hospital and we have been standing by our cell phones. I confess that  the close proximity to our cell phones is not really new, but the anticipation with each notice that goes off is a bit different then the usual, more casual approach. After all, I confess that  I will get scolded for missing a call because I've left my phone on vibe.

As I mentioned last confession I have once again turned to another poet to coach me on some work this fall. I was anxious to start again until it came Sunday to sending material off. Then I suddenly felt timid. Awkwardly so; like a kid who steps up in line with a baseball to have his favorite player sign it... he hands it to the player and then  just goes blank. Speechless.  Duh... what am I doing?

Being fortunate enough to be working with one of my very favorite poets is awesome, but it also makes the analogy of meeting your favorite player a pretty good metaphor.  I confess that  response to the drafts that I provided were well received. One in particular and that  makes it less awkward moving forward.

No new news yet on the arrival and it's getting  late. Could be a long night.

~0~

Confession Tuesday - Deep Breath Edition

I've missed numerous Tuesday Confessions. I confess that it has been long enough that I don't know the number of weeks and rather than scroll through my blog to count them, well I just hang my head in shame.

Many things went bad with my day yesterday and they all seemed to spiral from a singular event at work that was the result of someone's  miscalculations and as a result it meant I had to deal with a crisis that sent me home stressed out.  Then I got up this morning and added to my anxiety by thinking I had lost or misplaced my wallet. What actually happened to it  was kind of amusing as i think back on it but it too stressed me out and delayed me this morning.

You know how misery loves company....  well I drug my wife to the office today for her annual flue shot only I screwed up and  was a day early. She drove home, keeping the car and then had to pick me up after work. There is still the matter of her needing to drive in with me tomorrow so I will inconvenience her yet again.

As I sit here writing this tonight I fully recognize that I need to take a few deep breaths, Get some oxygen to my brain.

~0~

                                                                          

I have lots of writing to do this week and I confess that I am both anxious in a good way and apprehensive. I'll explain. I have another poet whose work I absolutely adore, that is working with me for a few weeks coaching. I've done this every couple of years in the fall and I find it beneficial. I confess while I'm always excited about this I realize this person is going to see some of my rawest work. But the idea of course is to use this a growing period. I'll talk more about this over the next couple of weeks.

~0~

On a positive note I confess I had a rejection letter overnight, Positive you say? Yes, it was positive because the letter specifically referenced things the editor really liked in a poem. That tells me it was a thoughtful read

~0~

Well, My San Francisco Giants have a playoff game in about 20 minutes from now so I need to wrap this up. I confess that I feel good about their chances to win this round and advance to the National League Championship Series. If they don't  win tonight they still have another  chance in game 5.

May the baseball God look favorably on them tonight.  ;-)