A Tolstoy Moment

One of the first conditions of happiness is that the link between Man and Nature

shall not be broken. ~ Leo Tolstoy

True Confession

I confess that I missed Confession Tuesday as I was doing Taxes.

On Spring

Everything is blooming most recklessly; if it were voices instead of colors, there would be an unbelievable shrieking into the heart of the night. ~Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters of Rainer Maria Rilke

Journal Bits 2-13-11 to 3-26-11

• Sunday 2-13-11:  Reasing in Ariel's Gift there were a couple of things [that] caught my attention. One is the difference between the ordering of the poems in the origional Plath manuscript and they way they first appeared in print. The Plath order of the poems begins with Morning Song and ends with Wintering. This makes the first and the last words of the manuscript love and spring.  For all the edginess of Plath's more notorious poetry, this ordering of the manuscript  has a positive upward movement that is not generally associated with these poems the way they were ordered in its first publication.
• Saturday 2-20-11: Yesterday I has a rejection letter Rattle.
• Wednesday 2-23-11: The envelope is closed / to outside influences / sealed like the tamper proofing / of nuclear material / in an unreliable foreign nation
• Monday 2-28-11: There across my lap covering / my left hand is an RPT25 / I've come to view it as and extension / of my soul.  Feeling its leather / smelling the earthy sent / swell in my nostrils / invites memories of games played / of my son throwing heat...  my daughter who was more apt to toss lazy flys for me / to camp under like falling starts.
• Monday 3-7-11: consider - metaphor is for things you can't say... are your images ornamental or do they have broader vision?  "Poems are not read, they are reread." Terrance Hayes  [source for all this was Terrance Hayes Master Class]
• Friday 3-11-11:  His God had volume / his God embodied totality / fundamentally his God / was the word in all its plurality / all that is named and all / that remains to name / his God was living, growing / his God was language
• Sunday 3-20-11: "Each time of life has its own kind of love." ~ Leo Tolstoy
• Friday 3-25-11:  "The world today doesn't make sense, so why should I paint pictures that do?" Pablo Picasso
• Saturday 3-26-11: It's cold - I mean Burr Cold outside... I paid $3.44 for gas today - my God this is insane.
• Saturday 3-26-11: Darkness follows / the headlights eat / white hash marks.... 

* unless otherwise attributed to someone else in quotes - these are from my own writing.   2011 ©  Michael  A. Wells – all rights reserved

A Tolstoy Moment

Art is not a handicraft, it is the transmission of feeling the artist has experienced.

~ Leo Tolstoy

Why?

There were several things that I had running through my mind today that I thought when I finally got to this page I might write about but along the way a read a blog post that I on occasion gravitate to.  Upon doing so, I was reminded that this was the anniversary of the assassination of Archbishop Oscar Romero 31 years ago. Thirty-one years? It seems like in many respects it was only yesterday.  This takes us back to what many like to think of as Morning in America a phrase coined by Ronald Reagan.  If you are one who thinks this was a simpler time, remember the turbulence in Central America. Remember Reagan Administration selling arms to Iran and the proceeds from covert arms sales to fund the Contras in Nicaragua in blatant violation of an act of Congress. Yes, and all you hear today is praise for Ronald Reagan, and Republicans push and shove each other out of the way in their quest to be the quintessential Reagan Republican. But I digress.

In her blog post Kristin Berkey-Abbott said she could think of "few other people who lived during the second half of the 20the century who more deserve sainthood" then Archbishop Romero. She argues that Romero, like Jesus must have known what wrath he was bringing down upon himself, but he did not back down. Until the end of his life, he called upon us to reform our earthly systems, systems that enrich a few on the backs of the many. Romero and Christ both show us that the forces of empire do not take kindly to being criticized.  The the death squads that roamed the country, the social-economic inequity, the human rights abuses by the government and the murder of a personal friend who dared to intercede on behalf of these issues for the people were too big a burden to shrug off and Archbishop Romero would not be the quiet complacent caretaker of the Church that the Vatican wanted him to be.  The result was essentially the same as his murdered friend. The Archbishop was gunned down as he celebrated Mass.

I think of President Obama's trip to South America and how many divides remain between the America's to this day. I think of the uprisings throughout the Middle East and the clamoring for democracy by those who know so little of it, yet do know the pain of repressive rule.  I think of people in this country who pray to God and find fault in everyone else. With all the problems in many countries, we who have so much seem to have a way of looking past the plank stuck in our own eyes and are so certain everyone else must see things as we do. 

If our theology is not a liberation theology, then why was Christ so given to the blind, the poor, the sick, the weary?  Why was he so angered by the money interests in the temple? Why did he love those who are often the least loved among us?  Why?  And why do we not?

Just wanted to point out...

I have a poem published in the new edition of RIGHT HAND POINTING Issue 40 "Harsh Mathmatics"


The Accountant

Confession Tuesday - The Tulips are up edition.

Dear Reader:


It’s been one perigee full moon, one King’s Speech, countless puppy potty training trips to the yard, too much news on the TV and much consternation over world affairs since my last confession.


I confess that I have not written well this past week. I’ve not had much success at focus which perhaps accounts for some of the problem. Then there is in yet another way too much focus. Confused yet? Let me help you.


First I’m speaking of the setting in general. Too much distraction from too many external forces tends to lead to the frustration level that hinders a writer’s effort. Distractions, interruptions, those kinds of things. Then come recognition that what you are doing sucks. So at that point you press yourself forward trying diligently to create something and this more singular focus approach is the overkill that dulls the creative process. A more relaxed approach is needed. Like a dieter who starts with some kind of cleansing phase before maintenance begins, the head needs to be clear of excessive linear thoughts. Open to more possibilities. I confess I wish I could bottle this condition and store it in the cellar like grandma did her canning to call upon later as needed.


~0~


I’ve found myself looking backwards a lot lately. I confess I’m not sure what but in doing so I catch myself longing for those days. I think if I could choose to be a certain age again It would likely fall somewhere between twenty and thirty. This whole exercise in reflection is nonsense, still I wish for those times again – maybe a part of me wants a do-over but there is something about those years that I long for as well.


~0~


Only 10 days till the Synesthesia –Art gallery showing. Yes, I confess I am still Oh so excited about it!


~0~


I noticed the Tulips have broken ground in our front yard. I confess this makes me happy!


~0~


Lately I’ve turned to twitter for breaking news stories often during the day. I confess I don’t know if this is a good thing or not.


~0~


For some reason I’ve been thinking about gardening this week. I confess I’ve no explanation. I’ve not had the best success at it in the past. I’m actually thinking more of flowers and landscaping then vegetables. Though a strawberry patch would be cool. And I could go for some watermelon.  :)


That’s it for this week… Thanks for reading and have wonderful week!

O Moon that hangs above our home

Last night hanging over our roof line and framed by wispy leafless branches I observed the perigee full Moon.  I also saw The Kings Speech. The lunar experience came on one of 174 potty training attempts with a puppy. The movie came on one attempt by Cathy and I to escape the dog madness and be alone (with a crowd of other presumably humans). Writing was impossible- I managed a blog post that must have taken me nearly three hours to write and post. Things are relatively quiet at the moment. I have several "must do things" today so when I finish this post I must start tackling them while it's possible.

I especially enjoyed the movie. It was not so much about plot as it was the characters, and they were well played. Except the portrayal of Winston Churchill by Timothy Spall fell flat; my wife's opinion which I share. Geoffrey Rush, Colin Firth, and Helena Bonham Carter... all superb! Their Academy nominations and awards were much deserved.

Censoring for the Public / Poetry & Purity

"When the writer knows pretty well that only very few volumes of his edition will be bought... he obtains a great freedom in his creative work. The writer who has in view the certainty, or at least the possibility of selling all his edition, is sometimes influenced by their future sale... almost without meaning to, almost without realizing -- there will be moments when, knowing how the public thinks and what it likes and what it will buy, he will make some little sacrifices -- he will phrase this bit differently, and leave that out."

I found the above quote via the poet Nathalie Handal, who linked an article by Christopher Merrill, Director, International Writing Program, University of Iowa. The article titled The Invisible Procession  appeared in the Huffington Post and addresses of the use of poetry when the world shifts underfoot.  Merrill seems to be asking, are these times not picture perfect for the genuineness of poetry?

I've never considered this to be a positive attribute, but there is an irony in these words. Poets like Carolyn Forche', Pablo Neruda, Nathalie Handal, Charles Simic, and Mahmoud Darwish are a few poets that come to my mind who have have in fact very effectively written poetry of witness.  In each of these cases I think there is clear evidence that their work has been void of the kind of sacrifices of genuineness that panders to what a writer thinks people what to hear. Still each achieves a following because of their art. Maybe because of the purity of their words and not through capitulation. Amen!

Today's Wisdom

A word after a word after a word is power. ~ Margaret Atwood

Poem: Our Story

Our Story

I love the sea and fear it;
the way it crashes the shoreline.
I love life with all the misfortune
because hope is a buoy
I cling to and continue to believe
that a patch of fertile land
is just over the curved possibility
and I love you because the storm
that presses upon us will grow silent
as a blank page— and we will write
our story.

2111© Michael A. Wells - All Rights Reserved

Happy St Patrick's Day

"Ireland is rich in literature that understands a soul's yearnings, and dancing that understands a happy heart."~~By Margaret Jackson.~~

No E-Books Without Authors, Atwood Reminds Us

I actually don’t disapprove of them, but I do predict that they will only ever occupy a small percentage of the market, in the same way that audio books, airport or large-print editions do. They will become one more – not the only – platform, and I’m hugely impatient for them to be normalized so that we can get back to talking about what’s in the books, rather than the formats themselves.

Thought for Troubled Times

"The poet's voice need not merely be the record of man, it can be one of the props, the pillars to help him endure and prevail." ~ William Faulkner

Confession Tuesday

Tuesday appears to have arrived on schedule. Okay, it actually came an hour earlier then last week (yes that is bitterness in my voice) but aside from that it has arrived as expected. One snow, too much barking, too many Aladdin and Barbie viewings, too many “ca-chings” at the gas pump, a quick but enjoyable sit down fast food meal with Cathy and another acceptance letter later.

Shall we get on with the confession?


Dear Reader:

I confess that I can be a sucker for even the simple. In a week that didn’t often allow for much time together – even a spontaneous stop at Church’s Chicken on the way home for our respective jobs a was a delightful event. Perhaps this week will be a little better.

The tragic quake and tsunami continues to consume much of my attention. I confess that I compartmentalize those two natural occurrences separate from the unfolding catastrophic nuclear disaster. The first saddens me and the second angers me because we have been hearing warnings for years now of such possibilities. Even here in our country to listen to people like Senator Lamar Alexander try to compare this to an automobile accident and say, who don’t stop driving because a person is killed in an auto accident is just plain stupid. The contamination of high levels of radiation from a meltdown will render an area uninhabitable for decades. It risks exposure to the food chain. In Japan with the concentration of population in areas like Tokyo, wind shifts could risk exposure to millions of people within hours. Sen. Alexander thinks this is like a car wreck? Really?

I confess I find leaders who cling to such notions blindly because of Industry Lobby and the trails of money they leave behind are despicable. I also confess that I did not intend to get on a rant today. **heavy sigh** Let me just conclude this segment by saying I am praying for the people of Japan – for their loss and many challenges ahead.

I didn't do much writing this past weekend and I confess that I am also behind schedule for the month on getting submissions out. I hope to do better this week and catch up with the submissions as well. But I have learned that if you stay on the ball with getting material out, even if you have a bad week things are still happening. Example yesterday I receive a rejection letter on four poems I had sent out. Likewise, over the weekend I receive another acceptance! This one to a Journal I had never submitted to.

I confess that I do enjoy it when others that I know have successes with their writing. Kelli Russell Agodon’s news yesterday that she or her book is a finalist for an award (see yesterday’s post) and another local friend Amy Leigh Davis has a book coming out and I just saw the cover art for it and I love it! The down side to all of this is I get all excited over such news and then two or three days later I think come on manuscript like I can urge it on, wish it on or something. **sigh**

Are you enjoying Daylight Savings Time yet? I confess I’m not.

I don’t mean for this all to sound like I’m on a downer… because I’m not. I’m looking forward to the Synesthesia – Art Exhibition by Jennifer Rivera (opening April 1st) that will feature abstract paintings inspired by poems, two of which (poems) are mine! I have painted when I was younger. You know when people go to a gallery and look at a painting and say, “my kid could do that” – well that would be a painting by me. That is why I don’t paint, I write. Though I have tried sketching in the past year, and someday I may try oils again, but I confess it will be just to amuse myself. But seriously, this exhibition and the two recent acceptances for journals due out in April have me in a pretty good mood. And that’s how I’d like to conclude my Tuesday Confession, on a high note.

Thanks for listening. May you be on a high this week as well… just not drug induced. ;)

Congrats!

Kelli Russell Agodon & Susan Rich are among the finalists for the ForeWord 2010 Book of the Year Award for the category of poetry.  Having read both of the books in question these are very deserving finalists. Congratulations to both!

Oh, and the books~ 

1. Letters from the Emily Dickinson Room / Agodon
2. The Alchemist's Kitchen / Rich

3.14

Snow fell last night and yet birds sang prolifically as though they were on an episode of Wild Kingdom. I wasn't a big accumulation but it's a wet snow and thus weighty.  Last night they were talking it would warm up to the 40's and we'd see some sunshine today so I guess this is just a little flirtatious burst of winter or maybe today will be a flirtatious burst of spring. Who really knows in Missouri. 

Thinking this morning about the enormity of uncertainty that people in Japan must be feeling.  So many people unaccounted for. A crisis in their power grid. Tremendous destruction and the questions about their nuclear risks/contamination etc.  They are in my prayers this morning.

Oh... and today is pi day - Happy Pi Day to all!  Pi Across America

Confession Tuesday

Lots to talk about this week so let's get started...  To the Confessional!


Dear Reader:

On Sunday I had the good fortune to participate in a Master Class workshop conducted by Terrance Hayes who UMKC brought in an then there was a Reading at Katz Hall on the campus Monday night. The workshop was a very well spent three hours.  Then Monday night I drove back into town for the Reading and confess that I was very disappointed that the room was packed. Okay, I was glad they had a great turnout, but was disappointed that there was not better planning for the reading. We're talking about Terrance Hayes!   Room 101 at Katz Hall was way too small for a draw like Hayes. Even the standing room was pretty well full. Given the room situation and my long day at work I was not up to standing through the event.

~0~

I can't believe how fast the year seems off to. March already?  An here we are Ash Wednesday tomorrow and St Patrick's Day a little over a week away.  I Love St. Patrick's Day! I love green, I love shamrocks, I love Corned Beef and Cabbage! My confirmation name? Yep... Patrick!

In spite of the fact that it's the night before Ash Wednesday, I have yet to decide what my Lenten project will be this year. Will I give up (sacrifice) something or commit to something proactive? Decisions - decisions. I confess I simply don't know yet. And to complicate matters I was enticed to check out the 101 Practical Fasting Ideas for Lent that Kelli Agodon posted on her site. Some great ideas - I confess feeling like a kid in a candy store who gets to pick out one item. Just one item!  Well, I have the night to sleep on it.

~0~

Terresa Wellborn who blogs at the Chocolate Chip Waffle ( I love that title!) blogged on marginalia  [scribbles, comments, and illuminations in the margins of a book] the other day and it got me to thinking about the act.  I confess that I've engaged in the act, but do not do it regularly. I suppose one reason is that many of my poetry books are in fact autographed by the poet and it just seems to create a barrier to me writing in the book. I do make very frequent notations in my journal but I confess I'd like to feel free to do it anytime... all the time!  There is something really intriguing about the idea of picking up a book and seeing the thoughts of other people in the margins. I confess that the thought others might find mine of interest at some point lingers in my psyche. But alas, I remain conflicted about doing this.

Well, I'm going to close now in a state of indecision... to write in margins or not?  What to do for Lent?

My your week have plenty of direction! 

Magpie Tales 55 - Poem: Untitled

There were sharp points of ambiguity
forked thoughts parting on a less traveled hunch


improvised explosive devices on the kitchen table
landscape of miscellaneous utensils and surgical drop cloths
between salt and pepper and adjacent to some Tupperware
thingy empty with after factory burp     the lid some distance
away from the scene


ruptured pustules perhaps corpuscles maybe a spread
of jam gone array                   smudges and prints
cluttered the site          and fingered a suspect

2011 © Michael A. Wells

Magpie Tales

Diligence Pays Off

In writing diligence is a word that needs to be added to the formula often offered as a key to success - read often, write often and rewrite. Add to that diligence as it relates to submitting. Dresser drawers of poem drafts are not the typical recipe for achieving publication. Yes, it worked for Emily Dickinson, but she didn't live to see the success.

Last night I received an acceptance letter on one of my submissions. I have a piece that will be appearing in Right Hand Pointing in April. I enjoy Right hand Pointing, not because they have accepted work of mine before, but because the editor, Dale Wisely almost always pulls together work that really interests me.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have more submissions to plan.

Tuesday Confession

Tuesday evening and I'm finally sitting down to put together this weeks confession.   Follow me to the confessional....                

Dear Reader: It's been a week since we last did this and I've a few things to confess. February has come to a close. I planned to do four new submissions this past month and on the 28th of the month I got the 4th and final one for February out. **Yeah!** That means for two months in a row I have actually met or exceeded my submission goals. Submissions had become drudgery in the past couple of years so this is a really positive thing. **clicking my heels... Yeah!**

~

I confess that sometimes in the evening I can hear the whistle of a distant locomotive. I Just now heard it. I confess that this is a sound I love. I don't necessarily recall hearing it every night but when it comes to my attention it is almost like clockwork. My grandfather was a railroad man and I always think of my grandfather and grandmother when I think of trains. I used to ride a train on many weekends to go visit them as a youngster. As a result I confess hearing the train triggers a whole host of feelings, tastes, and scents associated with them. The smell of Violets on the side of their home. The taste of fried perch or blue gill, watermelon, homemade doughnuts. Grandpa's tall and quiet stature. The way he would always do dishes when he was home from the railroad work. Grandma stopping on summer afternoons to get us popsicles. Loved the banana yellow ones. I could go on and on.

~

I confess that I have a grave concern that we (United States) are headed down a road to class warfare. The disparity between as the top 1-3% of wealthy are growing in obscene proportion to the rest of the people. Middle class families are dropping lower and lower in comparison. Their buying power is taking a big hit. Don't get me wrong, I don't begrudge people earning money but the CEO's earnings and corporate earnings are coming at the expense of the vast majority of Americans and the grow and grow and contribute so little in return. It is not farfetched to imagine the kind of mass rejection of our corporate hierarchy - much the way we saw the people in Egypt reject 30 + years of neglectful rule by their government. It could happen. **sigh**

~

I confess that I cracked up this past week when a 7 year old nephew visiting us, spoke up as my wife and I were watching  "Hot in Cleveland" when the word sex was spoken in a sentence on the show, "Aunt Cathy, I think this is inappropriate for me."  Can he even define inappropriate?  I laughed my ass off.

That's it for this week. May the rest of your be happy and stress free.   See you next week!

Magpie Tales # 54 - Poem: Title Forgotten

Title Forgotten

You are pieces of places
remote in my mind
puzzling and forced

into blank spaces
black holes in time
splintered edges

people of vagueness
foggy names
fuzzy going blank

what was I going to say
what were we talking
about?
 

2011 © Michael A. Wells

 
Magpie Tales

Not the Cover I'd Choose for a Book of Mine

The book that is bound to horrify: 160-year-old poetry volume is covered in skin of hanged murderer


Details

Enough Suspense Already....

On Monday I reported that I had some exciting news from over the weekend without offering specifics. Some have asked me if this news involves a book and while the answer to this is unfortunately no, I can however tell you that it is none the less the most exciting news I've had for quite some time.
 
Sunday, I learned that two of my poems were selected to inspire work by Jennifer Rivera, a talented abstract painter who is preparing for a poetry themed gallery showing at the Apex Art Space in the Crossroads District in Kansas City. For those not local, the Crossroads District has become the premier hub for art in the metropolitan area. "Synesthesia" will run for two months. My poems will appear along with the final paintings. She has selected work from a number of poets, some local and some from other parts of the country.
 
Jennifer has some awesome paintings! You can see a portfolio of her art and learn more about her at her web site. This is so exciting because I love abstract art in all forms. Having seen pictures of her work I am thrilled at the prospect of what she will produce in response to my poems.
 
Closer to the event I'll provide details about the dates and times of the showing. Of course it would be exciting to see a lot of my friends on the opening night, but for two months people will get an opportunity to see all of the poetry inspired work of Jennifer's.



* photo insert Jennifer Rivera

Confession Tuesday

I'm tired and I still want to read before turning in for the night but I want to fulfill my Tuesday duty so please come along to the confessional.


Dear Reader:

Today was a day that I was crazy busy but alas I confess few of my priority tasks were checked off my to do list. I have days like that because my work can be so crisis driven that the best of planning sometimes just will not work. Grrr!

It's not a new thing and I've had to learn to live with it. Sometimes it's frustrating enough to want to cast planning to the wind but I don't. Here's to more check offs tomorrow.

~

I was thinking this morning how strange it is to think as spring training is underway that the Giants will be starting the season as defending World Series champions and how different that is from the perception many had of the team's chances going into last the start of the season last year.  Many sports commentators thought the Giants were maybe like perhaps a third place team in their division.  First spring training game is this Friday against the D-Backs. I confess it feels like a heavy weight for the team going onto this season and being the defending champion. I will try to be the good fan and keep an optimistic outlook.

~

Sometimes I feel like pushing my creativity in different directions. A couple years ago I tried doing some charcoal sketching.  I confess that I'm not really very talented at this but I enjoyed trying to see various things and people through sketch.  I thought I would allow my to observe things from a different perspective. I still think this is a good idea, but admittedly I haven't done any for a while.  I think I'd like to be able to do sketches of people. I also love photographs of people taken as when they are doing things and appear totally unaware of the shot being taken. Little moments where they seem self absorbed in something.

~

I confess I'd like to have a pint of black walnut ice cream right now. Ok, I confess I'd really like more than a pint. ;)

~

Until next time, I hope you have some sweetness to your week!

I'm SO Excited!

Hail to the Chief!  President's Day off~

I've written, hobbled around on a sore knee, alternated heat and ice on it, and otherwise had a quiet day off.  At some point I need to do laundry and will probably try a relaxing bath. But while I've had a quiet day, I remain very excited about some news that came my way yesterday. I will not go into detail just yet, but I can tell you it's good news and it has to do with poetry. I did get a rejection letter over the weekend from Rattle but trust me, this makes up for it and then some.  Stay tuned for the details!

Magpie Tales 53 Poem: SHAKER

SHAKER



Sculpted by subtraction
precise patterns
sliced in the ice
of class Czech glass
cubed mathematically
and crowned with sterling
to set upon a table
to the distraction
of surroundings


2011 © Michael A. Wells



Magpie Tales 53

Your Attention Please - Is the ability to focus overrated?

I was reading a Wall Street Journal article in their Life and Culture section about attention and distractibality.  The article presented infomation from several studies that support there are perhaps benefits to be associated with distractability.

So all those times I was caught daydreaming in class... was that really such a bad thing?

...scientists have begun to outline the surprising benefits of not paying attention. Sometimes, too much focus can backfire; all that caffeine gets in the way. For instance, researchers have found a surprising link between daydreaming and creativity—people who daydream more are also better at generating new ideas. Other studies have found that employees are more productive when they're allowed to engage in "Internet leisure browsing" and that people unable to concentrate due to severe brain damage actually score above average on various problem-solving tasks.

The aeticle points out that the studies (and there were several mentioned) all involve college students and while they are revealing, they do not taken into account the challenges children facing ADHD experiance in school or the impact upon those who fail to graduate from high school.


Does distraction provide positive opportunities and lead to greater open-mindedness? What do you think?

What's Going On...

Two days in a row - here to blog. I've been lax / busy, call it what you will lately and haven done good to average 2-3 posts a week in recent months. So I guess this is what we'd call a streak!


Yesterday I had a rejection letter for four poems I had sent out.  This morning, three more went out in submission.  Another submission will likely go out later today. I'm trying to (and succeeding) maintain a much more aggressive submission schedule this year.


Poetic Happenings around the Internet:


Saturn's may have hidden seas by Christine Klocek-Lim appears in Astropoetica


A new trend in the internal civil unrest in the Middle East is Arab on Arab violence. Nobel Peace Prize winner Hanan Ashrawi’s poetry paints a picture  of the contemporary unrest.


This poetry is not an ornament to the uprising — it is its soundtrack and also composes a significant part of the action itself...

Terrance Hayes coming to Kansas City in March!

This week I downloaded a "New Letters" audio interview with poets Terrance Hayes & Yona Harvey - husband and wife poets. I listened to the interview on my Blackberry during my drive into town. I was so taken by these two poets that when I received a card the next day from the University of Missouri Kansas City that Terrance had been Named as the 2011 Cockefair  Chair  Writer-in-Residence and would be reading at the University on March 7th, I was excited. To top that off,  was able to snag a spot to attend the his Master Class in Poetry Writing on Sunday, March 6th. By this time I was clicking my heels!

Hayes is quiet spoken but with a powerful range and creative talent for language.  I've read a few of his poems in the past - but hearing him read is even more powerful. Yona too strikes me very much the same way yet each has a distinctive voice. They are a lot alike, yet at the same time very different.

The Master class is three hours long. Did I mention I'm very excited?

Confession Tuesday

Though I’m not certain where I am going with this, it is Tuesday and therefore confession time. It’s been almost a week since my last. I say almost because I was late. But let’s not dwell on that. To the confessional we go.

Dear Reader:

I’m punctual today. This is a good thing. Not just with confession but I confess that being on time can be a positive experience that improves your outlook about other things. I’m not saying it’s a world changer, but a few more positive vibes cannot hurt.

~

I confess that there have been times when people have said Hi! How are you doing? My reply would be something like – Tired, or beat, or feeling lousy. But at some point it occurred to me that people don’t really want to know that you are feeling like crap… It’s simply an opening to a friendly exchange.

I’ve decided I’m not a country western singer, so “Hi, How are you?” is not something you respond to with, “I found my Parrot dead on the floor of his cage this morning, the trash truck ran over a fire hydrant and flooded my basement, before backing into my BMW. I’ve got a migraine and I got the news my mutt knocked up the neighbor’s prize poodle and is threatening to sue. Thanks for asking!”

~

I’ve been dog sitting this week for my son. While I’ve seen my wife each day, and I do get a good deal of reading and writing done, I have really missed her in the evenings. Bouts of melancholy especially on Sunday didn’t help. I confess that I spent a lot of time reflecting on our early years together. I had a couple of dreams one overnight Friday were I dreamed of Sylvia Plath, but one Saturday night were we (wife and I) were very young (children like young) but all of our scenes in the dream we were in adult mode.

I confess I have this type of dream often. I confess I have no idea what it means.

~

Mid February is when pitchers and catchers report to spring training. Usually five to seven days ahead of the other players. I confess there is a bit of a spring in my step when this happens.

Thanks for stopping by. Hope all your steps have a spring to them too.  Have a great week!

Funding Creativity

Kelli Agodon has an interesting post today about Kickstarter. According to their web site, they're the largest funding platform for creative projects in the world. 

This strikes me as really intriguing because just this week the Governor of our neighboring state (Kansas) issued an executive order ending the State's Art Commission. It's a battle that may not be over because many are pushing the legislature to intervene.  Still, it is a sign that many state funded Arts Commissions may be in for bumpy roads ahead.

But looking at the site, Kickstarter offers a platform for small projects that be below the level of some Arts foundations as well as some larger ones. On one page I saw a project that was looking for over $70,000 and another for just over $400 so their is a bit of variety.

People can scan through the projects and find one or more that interest and pledge a dollar amount to help fund the project. It can be as little as $1.  If the project fails to reach it's goal, no funds are transferred - your pledge is not honored. Only if and when the project becomes fully funded are the funds withdrawn from your account. Amazon acts as the middle man for the sake of collecting the funds.

To my wonderful wife Cathy
    All My Love....
On Valentine's Day
& Every Day....







And a Happy Valentine's Day to everyone!

Magpie Tales 52 - Poem: It looks inviting but it's just a house.

It looks inviting but it's just a house.
Let me tell you about a house-

Past the curtains into the living room
where white upholstered seating
was primarily for company       while free
to come and go-    those were the days
when we were to be seen
cheeks pinched
bragged about in one form
or another but heavens no
add nothing to the conversation.

Upstairs was the safest place,
a room with a bunk bed I shared
with no one.    My trappings were many
and they were my comfort.
In the back was a window I shared
with the world-   an array of bumper stickers
shouting silently my views.
They were not the same as the management.

The kitchen below was by contrast
the most communal of all the rooms.
Around the table the balance of power
seemed most evident and it was there
I felt as though I was a wedge issue
based upon the parenting being done
and by whom the orders were administered.

There were chilly political discussions
back then Nixon was the one
but he really wasn't.    From time to time
there was the "N" word.  It was during these
times, the off color jokes that I felt most
uncomfortable about and not my posture
which was also a hot topic as well
as if I was finishing my dinner- leaving
a clean plate before I could go.
That was a battle I would eventually win.
Time was on my side.  But there were times
as well when my punishment was to stand back
against the kitchen print on the wall and become
one with it... to solve all my posture problems.
It didn't.

The enclosed back porch, the family room
with bar that was never used as such- 
and only in time for the moon landing
did it become home for our TV-
these rooms were cold, but not the kind
of chill that the kitchen had.

The dining room seemed majestic
at the time with built in china cabinets
I learned had been perfect for hiding
newly arrived letters from paternal grandmother
before their destruction.  Beamed ceiling,
natural oak that had been painted
but brought back to life.

The dining room was for formal
meals and entertaining      and fakery.
Playing normal and enjoying mom's
white yeast rolls and butter.

Thinking back these rooms
fan out to form an array
of memories.  Sometimes
it is better their ornamental
view is closed into one ivory stick.

I left the day after graduation.

2011© Michael A. Wells

Magpie Tales 52

Strange

At approximately 2:30 a.m. I was awaken and strangely my thoughts were of Sylvia Plath.  At first I thinking how strange this is the anniversary of her death until I realized that it was the morning of the 12th and she died February 11th, a fact that had escaped me yesterday.

Then it dawned on me how strange the poem draft I wrote last night (see below) and the ghosts of writers.

Feeling a little bit of twilight zone here.

Rest in Peace Sylvia...

Ghosts

The gurgle of the washing machine,
the laminate film upon my post dinner
teeth chattering as Friday reverses
itself like a retro jacket
that offers two color options
only I cannot choose;
I only have Friday night
at my disposal-


I have a plate, a fork & spoon,
and two pans to wash
and the whole night ahead.
I am only slightly cloistered.
The TV is there and another
in the living room and still
another in the family room.
And so many channels-
and nothing I want
to watch.


In the end, I will battle
between book and journal.
Read or write.
It is in this solitude
I sense the ghosts
of so many
long gone
writers.

The Month of Love

An afternoon sun is unsuccessful in curtailing my chill that continues. This is so unlike me~  **sigh**   Supposedly it has reached 35 outside. Maybe that's my problem... I'm inside.

I've had a vacation day from the office, reading a book as well as ruminating about the chatter the past couple days of the Claudia Rankine/Tony Hoagland matter.  The latter has my head spinning. 


It's the month of LOVE and if you haven't seen it already there's a series of PDF print and Cut Valentines here  courtesy of the American Academy of Poets.

I've been getting Gretchen Rubin's daily "Happiness Project E-mails" for a while now and the other day I got this one that I just love:

"One of the best and fastest ways of acquiring knowledge is to insist on remaining ignorant about things that aren't worth knowing."

— Sydney Harris

And another thing I picked up from her site was the SIX WORD MEMOIR.   Another version of this - Six Words on Happiness.  A few that were on her site that I liked...

• Reading the last page of "Mockingbird."
• paying toll for the person behind me
• with my six I declare love

Confession Tuesday - belatedly

It's Wednesday and I seem to have sinned again!  Last night I was thinking about my Tuesday Confession at about 11:30 pm but not for long, and so here I am a day late and another flaw to add to my list of confessions. The sin of being lazy, or perhaps it's really rebellious. Anyway, let's get started.

Dear Reader, humbly I confess I've let you down. And as you can likely tell from above, I'm not even certain which is my reason... maybe a little of both. At any rate, this has been the second time recently and I really am going to get myself together next week.

Tonight I'm cold. Cold I tell you and that's really something for me. I'm the one in the office who gets cranky when they bump the heat up in the building. At home, I'm the first to want the A/C on and the last to want to furnace on. I confess, my body temperature setting is evidently different than must people. When I finish here I can tell you I'm headed for the bed and will burrow under the blanket for warmth.

For three days truing this past week my Blackberry was not syncing mail and I was unable to get feeds (twitter, facebook updates) or reach the Internet.  Phone calls and text messages worked fine.  During this time I really fell out of the "know" so to speak. I missed news flashes. I confess it was a very strange three days. Everything is working fine again. I did survive but it was a strange feeling by the third day and I was growing weary.

That's my week... hope yours ahead is a good one. I'll see you back here next Tuesday... promise!

an advent of sense

A poem conveys not a message so much as the provenance of a message, an advent of sense. ~ Thomas Harrison

Let it Be

Words of Wisdom

The sun and the wind spoke briefly
of the day behind them
making light of irregularities
fostered by man-

"these things are to be
expected," one said to the other
and both agreed.   The clouds
heard this-

when the wind and the sun spoke
they never whispered
due to the distance between them
but the clouds ushered in their view

and it was agreed that the natural order
was far better suited      for everydayness
and the wind could be heard    even by man
singing "let it be, let it be..."


2011 ©  Michael A. Wells

Revisiting AWP

Given my Tuesday Confession post, I laughed my ass off reading Jeannine Hall Gailey's blog post for Tuesday.  The post titled How to Survive Not Going to AWP DC.

Just to get a taste of her post:

"Throw some dirty snow on yourself. Maybe roll around in it. Stand outside in whatever inclement weather your neighborhood provides. Make sure you’re carrying something heavy, like a bag full of books."

Go read the whole post for a good laugh.  Thanks Jeannine, I feel better already~

Magpie Tales 51 / Poem: Our Strength

Our Strength

Darkness descends

and we are together

tight as mortar and bricks.

A family, snug

we hardly notice the light

foot traffic—

Morning arrives with haste

of duties; so many people

so many places, each of us

feels the pressures of travel,

of heat, of friction

rolling over us

an anxiety— of the grit of life

churned out and spread over us

like we are plowed earth

and seeded discouragement

that it might take hold.

Some of it will root

between us. It will grow

and it may threaten

but tightly grouted

and stronger for our numbers

we will keep our ground.

 
2011 © Michael A. Wells


Magpie Tales 51

Confession Tuesday - Snow Day Edition

Dear Reader:  It's been one week, a lot of wind and too many inches of snow since my last confession. 

Let's get started...

Today I've spent most of the day inside.  I've driven my car all of about 6 blocks.  My boss called this morning after I had cleared off the car and said that we were not opening the office, that he would likely only be sending us back home within a couple of hours based upon how the storm was advancing.  I confess that I am not disappointed. Yes the day off means my project plans will be behind, but thought of facing I-70 in the condition that was anticipated was not something I was looking forward too.  I understand late today there was a multi-car pile up on the Interstate between here and the city - I'm thankful we were not on the road.  Thankful too that no one was seriously injured. The question now remains what will tomorrow look like?

While on my laptop today someone take the "lap" part seriously and believes that he has to occupy mine. Klaus (our minpin) comes over and under the desk and stretches out to pull himself up on my lap. I confess this practice of his is both cute and annoying at the same time. He's been on my lap like this at the computer three different times today. One in which he fell asleep in my arms.  It wasn't that long ago that Klaus' fate was in question. Regular readers may recall that he was paralyzed in an attack by another dog and his rehabilitation was a slow process. He still has residual issues but his overall condition seems miraculous compared to where he had to come from. It was during this period that Klaus really started to take to me. I confess, I think I've become his favorite. (Don't tell Shannon)

Every year for the past maybe three years, I read about writers running off to AWP like it's a religious pilgrimage. At first I had no idea what the heck it was... Association of Warped personalities...  Americans with Psychosis...  Annual Whoopee Party?  But I've grown the wiser reading of all the writerly/publisherly interactions and so I confess that this time of year, when so many are running off to (this year DC) I feel I'm somehow a subterranean writer, doing my work just below the radar.  I know that this is silly. There must be plenty of serious writers who are sitting at home reading about all the workshops and functions going on and the goodie bags, etc. With this in mind, I pledge that I will learn to get over this... or in the alternative one day go to the event.

Until next week, everyone be safe and happy!

Do You Care?

During this past week I ran across the newly released Code Of Best Practices In Fair Use For Poetry. I don't even recall what lead me to the link at the Poetry Foundation, but I promptly printed off the some 25 plus pages of copy and have actually read through it though I will not pretend to have absorbed enough of it to be highly authoritative on the subject. After reading through it I recall wondering just how big a splash this was going to make on the poetry scene. Will there be a period of discussion by poets on line? Will many poets actually read it? Will many even care?

Dave Bonta, a poet and literary magazine editor blogged on the subject yesterday - 'Code of Best Practices in Fair Use for Poetry: a vital first step.' Bonta expresses some cautions positives about the document though "... a little uneasy at the way in which these new standards were generated without any popular input, any attempt to poll or crowd-source among poets and fans of poetry."  Even Bonta acknowledges we poets can be an acrimonious group and broader input into the process of drafting such a document may have been difficult at best.

A cursory look at google told me what I had suspected. Buzz about this document up to this point was no bee swarm. Most in fact were general mentions of the existence of the document. There were a few expressions of opinion. Carl Bettis,  is a fellow local poet
had some fun with the document - mostly at the idea that poetry could be a profession and the conceptualization of a consensus of poets.

So I'm interested in your thoughts? Have you seen the document? What do you think? Do you care? Do you respect the intellectual property rights of other artists? Do you care if anyone gives a rat's ass about your intellectual property rights?