Confession Tuesday - Water Water Everywhere Edition

Dear Reader:

It’s been a week since my last confession. The Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner has nothing on us.

Yes, I confess the rain continues to annoy. Did I say annoy? I’m not sure that is strong enough language. Seattle? Portland? Are you guys missing some rain? We’ll send it back.

I confess that I got on an organizing kick this past week and designed a single page weekly plan sheet to help me stay focused and do what I need to do where my writing and writerly related functions are concerned. It’s in a PDF format, nothing elaborate but it helps me plan things out and then I am able to transfer everything to my planner on my tablet. It’s sort of a Capricorn thing to do.

Summer is coming, June 21^st – just weeks away. I’ve been thinking that it’s about time

for me to do another annual Poet Crush List. The only problem is that right now I am into so many good poets that I confess this year it’s going to be hard to do a 10 poet list.  

This is something I will have to contemplate in the next couple of weeks.

It has occurred to me that our Public Library system has not had any poets in to do readings for a while. They used to be so good about this. I confess that I feel obliged to make some calls and see if anything is in the works or if they could be encouraged to start planning some events for later this year.

That’s about it for this week folks. Stay safe, wear your life jacket. Pray the rain gives us a break.

In the event that you have been sleeping under a rock.... Or from the I case you missed this department

During this past week Kelli Russell Agodon got a lot of traction with an article she wrote that appeared in Medium. The piece was titled, Submit Like A Man: How Women Writers Can Be More Successful. If by some chance you have not read it by now I recommend it. It has sparked significant re-tweets and discussion since appearing.  Kelli discusses her experiences as an editor and a realization that often men and women writers respond differently to rejections letters that indicating the editor would like to see more of their work. Regardless of your gender, if you are timid about your approach to submitting your work to journals I suggest this article is worth reading. As is so often the case, Kelli is a very excellent steward of her writing knowledge and experiences. She embodies the best example of literary stewardship.

How We View The World...

"I was made at right angles to the world and I see it so. I can only see it so." - Elizabeth Bishop

Confession Tuesday: Self-Conscious Edition

Dear Reader:

It has been two weeks since my last Confession. One week in which I fought the intermittent rains to get both front and back jungles mowed. And a second week that has been more akin to nearly non-stop rain save today. I feel a bit like I've been uprooted to Seattle or Portland.

So, I have to confess that I've been particularly self-conscious this week. I hate when I get the impression that everyone is judging me or that  everything that isn't going right is in fact going wrong on my own personal accord, and yes, everyone knows this. That further, if I feel I am being ignored, (which is likely all in my head) I am convinced it is because of something I did or did not do.

I confess that I am not as bad about this as I once was. Still, it creeps into my psyche and takes up residency. Hell, sometimes it throws a party for other self-conscious souls!

It is at times like this that I'm convinced that people are thinking about me way more than I have any reason to believe. Any little reason I can think of that I might have done something wrong or offended someone, I will manifest from this that I'm being avoided or ignored completely without any foundation of evidence to back it up. Logic plays no role whatsoever. This will likely continue a few more days until I finally kick these squatter thoughts out of my head.

On a lesser note, I confess that I am anxious to finish my current journal refill so that I can start fresh with a new clean one. I already have it on hand.

So there you have my secrets - spilled out for you this week.  Everyone be safe and enjoy your week ahead come rain or shine!


Don't think. Thinking is the enemy of creativity. It's self-conscious, and anything self-conscious is lousy. You can't try to do things. You simply must do things. ~ Ray Bradbury

Dream Big

"The armored cars of dreams, contrived to let us do so many a dangerous thing." ~Elizabeth Bishop

This week I drew Elizabeth Bishop - Queen of Quills for the Poet Tarot deck for my guidance throughout this week. Bishop is a tough person to rely on for guidance. She was such perfectionist when it came to her work. Perhaps the lesson is write lots. Rewrite lots. When submitting,  keep that standard for what is sent out  high. 

Coin Operated Poems - A Review

In this latest collection of poetry, Mary Biddinger longingly delves on that shrinking view through the rear view mirror.  A Sunny Place with Adequate Water is a land we come to inhabit

within the pages of this book, and while there, Biddinger successfully shares a unique vision that while surreal, seems vaguely familiar as if we've experienced some of these things and as for the others, we only wish we had.

The nostalgia of small town America is all here. We see an old order, but an often reinvented one as well. There is a coin operated apple pie, and a coin operated engine finds its steam. A Parlor, a diary, a paramour and a half, so many things relying on coins that buy next to nothing today.

These poems are tidy. The language and the images Biddinger employs have an old shoe comfort. Yes, including magnets and their unreasonable behaviors and the homeless man with a sign that read PREMIUM.

I've come to both enjoy and respect Biddinger’s writing and she continues to amaze me. I felt she took some risks with this collection. I believe they are ones that worked.  This book is an enjoyable read. 

How we observe as poets...

No one knows the burden I carry,/this being born with a Ouija Board in my chest, this ability/to read wreckage like an alphabet. You just see a car on its side/and the on the pavement. I see narration. 
                                                                             ~ Jeffrey McDaniel, The Appraiser's Dilemma

This passage from Jeffrey McDaniel's poem is so exquisite.  Reading this poem over and over I realize that I am seeing myself, and by myself, I mean all poets as the ones with this burden. If we are not seeing the narrative in sights and sounds and touch, then maybe we are not really suited to be the poet. Maybe we are only meant to be the reader. Just a thought...

Confession Tuesday - Silas Left The House Edition.

Dear Reader:

It has been one motherfucking rainy week since my last confession. Surprisingly the sky was beautiful today and no rain to be found. I think it figures back into the forecast in a day or two. <sigh>

I have a whole host of things swirling in my head and like a rotating lawn sprinkler -  let's see what we can grab one as the thoughts spray outward.

Here's one.  I confess that I don't think Television will EVER be as good as it once was. The thing that comes to my mind when I am thinking about television is a jingle that used to be an old cigarette commercial only my adaptation of it is, "Are you watching more now but enjoying it less?"  I confess, our children came on the scene when the quality of TV broadcasting went south.  Once, the three major networks provided a competitive challenge to each other. The standard for television shows were set and there was a reason to battle for market share of a third or more of the market place.  Once cable came on the scene there were tons more choices for the viewer but at some point I came to realize that we went from three stations to 186 and there was nothing really worthwhile to watch. Nobody gets close to 1/3 of the overall market anymore and they don't even try.  The advent of reality shows with cheap non-union actors what hungry little cable stations drifted towards. Costs were low, but that didn't matter because they never expected 2 digit market shares.  I confess, a good percentage of shows I watch are old reruns. I want some well-written script and a main character who is not a home who is getting a makeover.

RIP poetry and baseball. Have you heard these? I confess that this is getting old. I've read pieces this week about both. I've heard commentators and essayists trying to sell these two arguments for so long they should have both become fossilized by now, and yet they haven't. These are tired and silly arguments that tell me that these writers are really lacking in the creativity department.

Tattoos. Yes, I've thought about a tattoo this week. I am not one that likes to see lots of tattoos on a person, but I could maybe see me with one. Would I do a Giants logo, or something writing related? I have a temporary one presently to help decide how I feel about it.

Dreams this week... only one that I recall. A poet visited me in a dream. This is not a frequent occurrence but I wish it were. I always like to think I will be visited in a dream by a poet and something profound will be revealed to me. Not so this time. It was a pretty typical strange dream.

Thoughts too about Facebook and Twitter this week. I confess that  I have been thinking about how I have these two social media outlets on my mind too much. I do believe they have valuable roles to play for a writer or any artist for that matter, but I am trying to devise some balance as to how often I am on either during the day. I confess making such a change is not going to be easy.

Silas Goes To The Vet:

I have dreaded for a couple of weeks loading Silas into the car and heading off to the Vet. But Silas has been on a low (puppy dosage of Paxil for some time and his Rx had no refills left. I could not just stop him cold turkey. Besides, given his anxiety issues I felt it was important to talk with the vet about the best course to follow.  Silas usually in is a kennel when in the car. My daughter Shannon agreed to go with us. She stayed with him in the back seat.  I must confess that Silas' trip was far less traumatic that I had anticipated. He was very well behaved at the vet's and only showed a little anxiety. He weighed in at 42.8 LBS.  The return trip he was even better. I have to thank Shannon for the help.

That's it for this week. Sweet Dreams!   Maybe, Neruda, Plath or Yeats will visit you.

Confession Tuesday - The Glory of Books Edition

Dear Reader:

It's been a week since my last confession.

As we get older weeks come and go. It's a fact. Well, it always has been but I do think they seem to zip by these days.  So I get done with one confession and I'm back again and saying to myself, "How did this happen so quickly."

Sunday I mowed my daughters back yard. It's enormous. We jokingly call it the back 40.  The mower she had was self-propelled. In theory, it would make the job easier. The pull on the thing is so strong that it is a lot of physical work just to hold back on it and control it.  After finishing it, I came home and mowed our front lawn with our own power mower. It's not self-propelled. I confess that yesterday when I woke up, my back and shoulders hurt like never before. Tonight I'm still feeling the pain. Moral of the story, be weary of mechanical things that should make life easier.

My book wish list is shrinking at the fastest rate ever. AWP has had a lot to do with that. On the other have, the list of books to read that I now have is also at an all-time high.  I confess there are worse problems I could have. Of course, this means I now am balancing more reading against more writing.

Last week I mentioned that I thought there was a lot of "nice" karma going on. Strangers going out of their way to be nice and share a smile. I mentioned too that drivers seem to be more courteous than normal. Well, today the good karma was hard to find on the streets. And to the man behind me that honked within the same second the light turned green, May your horn mysteriously find itself where that sun doesn't shine." See, now even I'm grouchy.

Are you writing more now by enjoying it less? I confess yes.

Am I not enjoying writing? No

It's what I'm getting on the page that I'm not liking as much.  It happens. I deal with it.

I confess I got a rejection letter.  I confess, It's cool! You have to get so many of those for each acceptance. I know I'm getting closer.

That's it for this week... If it rains, my advice is run for cover.

And The Winners Are....

April has come and gone. Hopefully, you were nourished by a daily supply of poetry.  But poetry is not just for April.

I've drawn names from entries in my Poetry Month Drawing, using a random number generator and I am happy to announce that two persons will each be receiving a poetry book so the poetry can continue.

The winners are - Allyson Whipple and Brian Wong.  Congratulations to both of you. I will be emailing you for your snail mail address.

• Allyson receives a copy of Alter Ego of the Universe by Amy Leigh Davis
• Brian Won will receive  a copy of The Country Between Us by Carolyn Forche

Thank you all to everyone who participated in the drawing and thanks to Kelli Russell Agodon for once again spearheading this annual event among a number of other bloggers. 

Friday Mail Bag

What is more fun than getting a bill in the mail? Well, a new poetry book for one thing...

At AWP I attended a reading by Sandra Beasley, a poet from the Washington, D.C. area that I was not totally unfamiliar with, and having checked in on her blog over the past few years I became interested with some of her work and this was one of the main factor I chose her reading over other panels that I could have attended during the conference.  While I did not pick up one of her books at the conference, there was  a short list of books I came home without that I wanted and I have subsequently ordered all but two of them they will be ordered in due time. (For the sake of an entirely differently conversation to be had on some other day, let me point out that is is one of many examples of poetry book purchases that have been blog driven).

Beasley's reading was to me like what I envision when creation explodes wide open before us. It is that atomic event that occurs when language and imagination are mixed. The two elements are unstable when properly mixed and something magical occurs. Beasley knows the right combinations.

And so back the mail, from which this conversation began. I ordered a copy of her collection of poems titled Theories on Falling and it arrived yesterday.  This book was the winner of the 2007 New Issue Poetry Prize. The judge selecting this work was Marie Howe, another poet I adore. I have her work, The Kingdon of Ordinary Time.   

Sandra Beasley On the Right at AWP with Eduardo C. Corral

I'll review the book when I have finished. (I have so many books to read since AWP)

Confession Tuesday - Kindness Edition

Dear Reader:

It's has been one week and one day since my last confession.

Sometimes it amazes me how fast weeks go by. Still, there are other instances where they sort of putter slowly like they are about to run out of gas. Honestly, I'm not sure which I prefer. I don't care for them to drag on, but sometimes, honestly it scares me how fast life goes by. I confess that I would be okay with slower weekend and faster work weeks. Big surprise huh?

Last night when I should have been doing my week's confession I was instead watching TV with my wife. Now, I say I should have been doing my confession, but in fact sometimes you just have to go with your gut about what you need to do. I felt that I needed to be spending time with my wife. I don't regret it, but I do admit that sometimes our   lives have to have an element of flexibility to them that frees us from the rigidity that we often associate with the pursuit of success in some other endeavour.

Life is not always kind to us humans. As a parent, this is something that I felt was important that our children understand in such a way as to not be bitter about it. I continue to have to remind myself of this fact from time to time. It is in recognizing this that we can sometimes spare ourselves undue frustrations. I believe in Christianity and I think most other religions as well there is a feeling that it is in the context of low points in our lives that we can appreciate the high ones more.

Sometimes we have to stop to smell the flowers. The picture above is an Iris in our yard. I live for these to come up each spring. It may seem silly, but they bring me much joy. We did not plant them, they were just here when we moved her 12 years ago. At out last home, they were bleeding hearts that came up each spring that had the same kind of impact on me.

This past week I found myself noticing for one reason or another that people around me, perfect strangers seemed to be more thoughtful during the day. Holding doors, more courteous driving, these kinds of things. The latter, driving was especially notable because I swear in general Kansas City has some of the rudest drivers anywhere. At least anywhere I've been. But this whole kindness thing is surreal against the backdrop of what has been happening in Baltimore and other cities around the country.

Being a big baseball fan, I also found it eerie that the Orioles and White Sox played a game without fans in the ballpark today. First time ever in MLB history. I have the people in Baltimore in my thoughts and prayers. Today, the symphony played an outdoor free concert, libraries have expanded hours as a way to offer people options of things to do off the streets. It is nice to know that there are people in the city trying to be positive and proactive. These are difficult times for America. We all need to be more compassionate and understanding. I confess that I am trying to focus on this personally.

That's it for now. May kindness follow you wherever you go this week.

Confession Tuesday - Tattoo Edition

Dear Reader:

It's been one week since my last confession.  A week in which I was both fatigued and emotionally energized. It's a strange feeling. This was largely a result of the AWP Conference.  The experience was mostly a positive one - it was the focus of most of last weeks confession so if you did not get a chance to read it, click here .

So this week, I've turned my attention forward. The future, near and beyond.  Short term the month is coming to a close soon and I was looking at my  drawing entries and I'm underwhelmed. There are so few entries. I realize that this year I was not listed right away on the master list but  I really would like to see more people enter. I confess that I am bothered by how few entries there are.

I guess coming off AWP I felt a little mischievous and this translated into the tattoo above. I confess that this is a fake or temporary tattoo. I sent a text to my daughter Meghan with the above picture of it attached. She replied, Nice! Now go get a real one.

So this week how many people a the office have said anything about it? Zip! None!  I confess that I am totally  floored that  no one has mentioned it. I starting to feel totally invisible to the worlds.

Till next week...

Confession Tuesday - Post AWP Edition

Bless Me Reader For I Have AWPed::

It's been several weeks since my last confession, but let me focus on this past week.

It's been 7 days away from my office, two Delta plane flights, over 700 presses, literary journals and writing organizations, over 550 readings, panels and craft lectures, too much coffee and Diet Coke to count, notes and writing and more writing, faces I'd never seen, faces I wanted to meet for the first time and faces I didn't get to meet.  A week of much more walking then I would have done in a week of judicious tread mill sessions, a swim, a hot tub, more tweets than a hundred birds could do and little rest. 

This was my first time at AWP. Yes, I confess I was a newbie. It was also my first time in Minneapolis and St Paul (St Paul is another story). 

 I has a whole host of (good intention) warnings abut the event. I read any number of online articles geared for first timers in the weeks leading up to the event. I also had direct conversations with a hand full of veteran attendees. The overwhelming theme that I capt hearing and reading was that it was in fact overwhelming. Intimidating and draining were also words that I heard. Still, no one ever suggested it wasn't wort it. I would say that all the forgoing statements were true, 

I confess that I was overwhelmed before I left. How do you whittle down all the possible panel presentations none of which are repeated without sacrificing numerous ones you want and or should be at? My schedule was shifting sand right up to the presentation in some cases.  I will give my wife credit for helping me ask myself questions to narrow the list somewhat. It was nice that Cathy too enough interest to engage in conversation about the options. She often has an ability to look at such things without as much emotion and ask good questions that can affirm one of your selections or in the alternative provide a significant rational to accept an alternative. 

It was overcast on our decent into Minneapolis and I was on an isle seat anyway. But I confess I only ever saw one lake in the state that boasts of Ten Thousand Lakes. I know, what are the odds? 

While it was my first time in Minneapolis, it was also my first time in St Paul. I confess that  I deboarded the blue line and caught a green line light rail and road to it's stop. This mysteriously placed me in St Paul. I was certain of my mental notes that I had done what I was to do, but alas I confess that the embarrassing mistake delayed my arrival at my hotel by a couple of hours.  No that I think about it, this means I was actually twice in Minneapolis.I got on the second train where I should have made my departure for my hotel only six blocks away.  I will give the city kudos for their public transportation. The light rail is efficient (if you know what you are doing) and affordable. It intigrates well with their bus service as well.

THE EVENT ITSELF .  

The event is both draining and inspiring. If you were to several panels back to back, there was not much time to do much but a quick restroom break and hustle to the next panel.

Here are some of the panels I attended:

• Thank you for the Surgery
• Confronting our fears and turning Adversity into Art
•  The Pink Tuxedos
• Intimate Communities: How to Form and Keep a Writing Group that Works
• Old Friends Who've Never Met and Some Poems
• The Best New Poets: A 10th Anniversary Reading
• A Room of One's Own, Plus Others:Writers Shared Spaces and Communities
• The Sentence and the Line. A Journey  Meaning Makes
• James Wright in Minneapolis
• Melancholy and the Literary Uses of Sadness
• A Tribute to Jane Kenyon
• I Am Me as You Are We - Exploring Pronouns in Experimental Poetry
• Echos of Displacement; Sound in Poetries of Diaspora

I confess some of these were quite different than what I might have  expected. That is not to say they were bad, just surprisingly moved on the subjects in ways that were different than I might have assumed.

A Surprise: I was taken pleasantly by surprise to learn from a couple of presenters that they had taken different routes in their writing path than a MFA. I confess that this was actually a liberating experience. Understand if I had my life to do over (there is that catchy no do-overs thing) I would have likely considered another path that would have involved an MFA. At my age this is not really a practicality. But is was freeing in a way to see these people participating and seemingly positive signs that they did not let such things stand in their way of writing and achieving success. 

COOL PEOPLE I MET

The incomparable Professor Biddinger
author of A Sunny Place with Adequate Water 

This makes a third book by Mary Biddinger  that  I own.

She is actually holding up Barn Owl Review - which I meant to pick up a copy of and will now have to order.

On the right I am pictured with poet Jessica Smith. Jessica and I both share a passion for birds. I am anxious to delve into her most recent book Life Lists which forms the backdrop for this work.

Pictured on the left  is Eduardo Corral and Sandra Beasley who both read at a 10th Annual reading of the Best New Poets anthology. They were two of the four readers. All four were especially worthy of their selection for this. I've read Beasley's blog for years but had never met her until this reading. She has a compelling voice that is fresh and flourishing. You want to read more of her work upon the moment she is finished reading.






I also was excited to meet Nin  Andrews and pick up a copy of her new collection  Why God is a Woman

DISAPPOINTMENTS

I confess the event was not without disappointments .  One of the biggest was missing the opportunity to meet Carolyn Forche and get a signed copy of one of her books.  I did not realize that her book signing was not a part of the scheduled book signings that were associated with the book table set up in the lobby area. My mistake was further complicated by people at the tables giving me two different days and times for here and as those times approached I was told something different. Finally I realized that she signed at a table inside the book fair and the time had passed, thus I was never able to connect. Carolyn is a favorite of mine and it would have been a big deal to have met her and gotten a signed book. 

After the fact disappointments - local poet Maryfrances Wagner and I each realized after returning home we had both been there and could have a lunch or a glass of wine together. 

I also realized yesterday the Andrea Beltran was there - again after the fact. 

There were a number of poets from the Northwest Pacific area that I would love to have met, skipped this years event. All of who I consider magical writers who are doing something very right  But life goes on. 

LAST RITES

As the last rites are administered to AWP15 let me add a few closing thoughts.

1. If you were from Minneapolis and out and about town after hours but may have appeared that a zombie apocalypse was occurring as there were writers walking every street with their eyes looking totally zoned out. And yes they were writers not Minnesotans - as evidenced by their name tags on lanyards and or AWP tote bags. 
2. I cannot judge the WiFi against past conferences but it was spotty at best. I have no idea how many tweets were hung up in the tweetmosphere because the sender walked ten steps while tweeting.
3. AWP is not going to make me a superior writer, but it has given me another window to look through. It has made me physically tired, but alas it has infused me with a charged mental attitude and a lot of new directional thinking. 
4. There is no substitute for being immersed in and among remarkable writers and exceptional poetry. Also, bringing home lots of books and journals to feed the reading  experience. And I believe poets at al levels have a need to read. 
5. I was glad to see and connect with advocacy groups for the arts and VIDA.
6. So many poets in boots. Just had to throw that out there. Is this the replacement for the beret?
7. And last, I was taken by the number of mothers with children, infants. I know taxing the conference was to me. I can hardly imagine the balancing act these women had to preform. I applaud their commitment to writing.  And yet I know for every one that was there with child there were untold numbers who wanted to be but it didn't work for them.  I'm thinking out loud here but I wonder if there has ever been consideration to child care options for the event? Maybe this has been explored. If not, it should be looked at. And surely dads and other family members, can offer a more supportive to young mothers. 
8. I do what to give a shout out to my wife looked out for me from afar.She was concerned that I would forget to eat or something. I just know she was always concerned about it. Breakfast at my hotel was pretty awesome. The first day I shot a picture of my platter and messaged it to her to ease here mind. Afterwords, I realized I should have done like kidnappers and put the front page of the morning paper in the picture so the date was prominently displayed. 

My mind is still in overdrive. Hopefully it will slow a bit and my  energy level increase to where they are working in tandem soon. 

Amen~

I have poems to write!

. 

Complete List of the Big Poetry Giveaway for National Poetry Month - 2015

Listed below are links to each participating site.  Visit them all!

• a. Kelli Russell Agodon: Book of Kells
• b. Jessie Carty
• c. Laurie Kolp
• d. Allyson Whipple
• e. Jessica Goodfellow: Axis of Abraxas
• f. Cathy Warner: This or Something Better
• g. Shawnte Orion: Battered Hive
• h. Sarah Gutoski: mimsy and outgrabe
• i. R Wilder Jr: I, Mosaic
• j. Donna Vorreyer: Put Words Together. Make Meaning.
• k. Robin A. Sams
• l. Jo Lightfoot: Poetry Open House
• m. Dani Harris: my heart's love songs
• n. Karen Weyant: Fussings from a Rust Belt Writer
• o. Joannie Stangeland: Poe-query
• p. Drew Myron
• q. Renee Emerson: This Quiet Hour
• r. Erin Coughlin Hollowell: Being Poetry
• s. Matthew Thorburn
• t. Marianne Mersereau
• u. Lissa Clouser: Windy Words: Poetry On the Plains
• v. Steve LaVigne: CU Poetry
• w. Jeannine Hall Gailey
• x. Andrea Blythe
• y. Michael Wells: StickPoet

National Poetry Month Drawing

For the second year I am participating in the Big Poetry Month Giveaway.  This event started 6 years ago by poet & writer  Kelli Russell Agodon. There are a list of participants at the at the link above so there are many opportunities to win. But as the say, "You can't win if you don't play."


I will be giving away two books - one to each of two lucky winners. The poetry books are:


BOOK ONE - Alter Ego of the Universe- by Amy Leigh Davis

Amy is a local poet in my community that I have know for a number of years and this is her first published work, a chapbook from 2011.

More about Amy and the book can be seen here in an interview I did with Amy soon after publication.










BOOK TWO -. The Country Between Us - by Carolyn Forche

In my mind Carolyn Forche is one of the premier poets of witness poetry living and writing today. This was her second book of poetry published
but brought her international notoriety. If you have never read this book it is a must read for those especially interested in writing from the vantage point of sharing the complexities of social strife.

These are the two books I am giving away. If you are new to this blog site here s a little  about myself.


My name is Michael Allyn Wells. I live with my wife and three dogs in a suburban community of  . Kansas City, Missouri. (That's the big city. Surprisingly many visiting the city for the first time think they are in Kansas. Our smaller sister city is on that side of the of the state line).

I've been writing poetry ad reading locally for more years than I care to count. You can find publication credits at my web site michaelawells.com

I'm an avid baseball fan  and to be more specifically a San Francisco Giants fan for nearly 40 years which made for an interesting situation during last year's World Series when the Giants met the Kansas City Royals.

I love reading and writing, sipping an occasion glass of wine. I prefer my wine white and my coffee black.

If you would judge me on the basis of my musical preferences you would think I was stuck in the 60's-80's. I loved music by Chicago, Crosby Stills & Nash, Bread, Three Dog Night, Air Supply, etc. I love the saxophone and I'm a big fan of Kenny G (much to the dismay of my grown children).

Some of my favorite desserts are German Chocolate Cake, Cheese Cake (no Raspberry sauce please) and Black Walnut Ice Cream.

Thanks for stopping by and God Luck!

_______________________________________________

If you've gotten this far then surely you want to enter the drawing. It’s simple too. All you have to do is just leave your name and email in the comment section of this post. This drawing is open to everyone through ALL OF APRIL 2015, National Poetry Month!

If you'd like to be entered, please leave your name and email address by midnight (Hawaii time), APRIL 30th, 2015 below in the comment section of this post and I'll be randomly choosing all lucky winners the week of May 1st, 2015.

You can find a list of all the participating  blogs here. 

Check it out and fully enjoy National Poetry Month 

My Thought for Today...

The morning birds sing of something
they seem to understand. About my week
I feel uncertain. Untied to any one star
and without an oar to row to that place
in the galaxy I have yet to subscribe to.
If only I could understand the language
that forms the birds song...

Confession Tuesday - St Patrick's Day Edition

Dear Reader:

Its been a week since my last confession. A week of doctor visits, zoo trip, and getting our car back from my daughter - thus ending our long period that I refer to as our shut-in era period.

Let's get started:

Sunday, I went to the zoo. It's maybe been two years since I was last there. We have a new penguin exhibit. I'm really impressed with how they have put the penguin habitat together. I confess whenever I go to a zoo I am always judging the animal's housing not only on it's people aesthetics but also how comfortable I believe the animals are. I ask myself if I feel like they are thriving in the exhibit or if I feel they are stifled in some way. I wonder, do other people do this when they visit zoos? 

The past three days I have been out of my routine in the evening. When I get out of my routine the Capricorn in me is not well. This has made it difficult for me to get any quality writing done, which I confess has made me cranky as well. It then becomes a vicious circle. 

Having our car back has been good, however like tonight  I came home and then promptly had two errands to run and suddenly I wanted to be home bound. I could not believe how many stores were out of distilled water. I confess I just got tired of not being able to unwind tonight as my work day had already worn me slick.

I confess that I love St Patrick's day and I especially love corned beef and cabbage. Cathy did a top notch job of cooking it tonight. I confess that I could eat Corned Beef every week. 

Tomorrow being hump day - I feel I have to turn the last half of the week around and get busy writing. I know that of I do so this will likely go a long was towards improving my overall disposition. 

I am wanting to read some new poetry over the next week to ten days. Work by poets that I am not already familiar with. Expand my reading horizon a bit.  I willing to entertain recommendations if anyone has any. 

That's it  for St Patrick's Day... Keep smiling and and be safe!  See you next week. 

Confession Tuesday - The Tom Selleck Not Bert Reynolds Edition

Dear Reader:

It's been a week of poetry meetings - both attended and missed. A week in week of driving in which I became a trucker. A week of senior moment and mistaken identity or at least recall.

One of these two men are Bert Reynolds and the other Tom Selleck.
I confess that last night my wife and I were watching an episode of Blue Bloods and while discussing the character Frank Reagan on the show I referred to him as Bert Reynolds. This sent my wife into
a fit of hysterical euphoria. As soon as I said it, I knew it was the wrong name, but for the life of me I could not recall the name I was looking for. I knew he also played as the older gentleman on Friends who was an eye doctor and friend of Monica's family that she a a thing for. Still, try as I might I could not get Bert out of my head. It was not until I got up with the dogs around 3 AM this morning that the name Tom Sellick clicked with me. The occasional complete blank that I draw when it comes to some name is of course disconcerting to me. Fortunately I don't have lots of senior moments but I did not quite see the humor in it that Cathy did. Admittedly, I enjoyed the fact that she got such a kick out of it - even if it were at my expense. I believe there is a poem lurking here.

Daughter number two continues to drive our car though I understand she is has now found a new one to buy so this presumably will change. One day last week I had our car for a day to traverse between two doctor appointments. My wife asked how I liked driving our car again and I confess I said that I tried not to get too attached. Since that day I have been driving  my son-in-law's little red pickup truck. I confess that I never have been much of a truck person, but the ability to get myself to and from work without relying on being picked up has been nice. I almost feel like a trucker.

It's now a month away from AWP and I confess that I am getting both anxious and nervous.In preparation for the conference I purchased a tablet and I confess that  having a tablet and a smart phone together can be a bit overwhelming.

When I left work this evening I was surprised how beautiful it was out. Arriving home I was actually hot in the house. Michael gets cranky when he's hot  and tends to write in third person. I confess he actually turned on the air conditioning for a while.

See you all again for confession next Tuesday. Until then, stay safe!

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.  ;-)

Drench me in Loneliness

Moon! Moon! I am prone before you. Pity me, and drench me in loneliness. ~ Amy Lowell