Around and about

A few worthy mentions...

Mark your calendar for next Tuesday, June 17, 7:00pm for a reading at The Johnson County Central Resource Library / 87th Street and Farley in Overland Park. Poet Maryfrances Wagner celebrates the publication of her new book Light Subtracts Itself. Joining her will be Poet Laureate of Kansas, Denise Low.

I just got news that Kim Addonizio has two books coming out in 2009 from Norton Publishing. Ordinary Genius, which is a book on writing, will be out in February, and later in the year, a book of poems, Lucifer At The Starlite. How exciting! Kim is one of my favorites.

Looking for interactive writing prompts? There are prompts for all kind of writing and all ages at Writing Fix. Yes, there are poetry prompts too!

Pacific Wet Dreams

There is a side of me that I am told is not focused, or perhaps too easily focused on things of lesser significance. This can be hindrance in many ways that I probably don't need to explain. I have also found that it can be harnessed to some degree to let in things that ordinarily might be missed. For example, Saturday morning on our deck I distinctly heard the sound of waves against the rocky shoreline in northern California. Quite a feat for being in Independence, Missouri.

The Surprise Maples in our backyard, along with a chorus of other nearby trees were pounding against the shoreline in the June breeze. I was transported to Monterrey Bay without the $4 a gallon price tag for gas.

I think I've become more aware of my surroundings the last couple of years. Especially to the not so obvious things. Some of this transformation seems to have come naturally. Well, at least somewhat involuntary. Not through any conscious effort on my part. But as I have realized the power of imagination that has come with this, I have more recently tried to harness it and improve on it. I believe there has been some increased benefit from this effort.

I heard something the other day about people losing their creative tendencies as they grow older. The piece may have been on NPR ( I can't recall) but without providing clear answers as to why, it was exploring the prospects that what inhibitions prevent us from our wildest thought explorations as children seem to vanish with age. With so many more experiences to draw upon, this seems to run contrary with what one might expect. Yet it is probably true.

So how do we keep our imaginations young? How do we open the mind to greater creative possibilities?

Journal bits

recent bits captured from my journal writings:

• virgin issues sautéed/in a time honored tradition of denial.


• a gold band indents my finger/as if to say something much deeper


• cars pass both ways-/my ride absent and my mind/dismantled in the heat/one thought at a time/ until I'm one/with the sky's urban haze.

The Things Grown Men Do

If I dreamed last night, I'm certain it had Pat Benatar's hit rock song "Hit Me With Your Best Shot" jamming throughout it. Why you ask? Just a hunch. When I woke up this morning the music was going through my head like I was possessed by it.

It could be all attributed to my daughter's Guitar Hero game that she brought with her on her visit home. Yes, I've fallen marginally addicted to it. It's not quite the same high I get from playing baseball on the play station, but it incorporates a bit of nostalgia, music and of course a challenge. She has the #3 version, and other songs that catch my fancy are, Rolling Stones hit Paint It Black, "Sunshine of Your Love" by Cream, Alice Cooper's song " School's Out" and "Black Magic Woman" by Santana.

It's not like I ever had a desire to be a rock star so this whole thing is a bit weird but if my eyes look glassed over and I don't reply when you talk to be, it might be the bottom of the 9th, two men on and we're behind a run and I'm at bat, or it could just be "Hit Me With Your Best Shot" strumming through my head.

Distinguishing your poetry from prose

The connection between music and poetry is the topic of a blog post yesterday by Kelli Russell Agodon. It's worth taking a moment to read her explanation as I believe it offers great insight into the sound our writing makes and what it can do to the poem. Check it out here.

A Black Velvet Sky

Last night we picked up my youngest daughter at the airport and met my my son for a quick bite to eat on the way back in to town. The Kansas City metro area was under a severe weather watch and there was terrific lightening, off and on rain, monstrous clouds and a rainbow gracing the sky. Things then turned more ominous looking as we were leaving, the sky had a vast airstream of deep black velvet smoke drifting in from a westerly location.

Across the state line into Kansas City, Kansas (sister city) a gas storage tank in an industrial area had been struck by lightening. The resulting smoke and the mixture of other sky components previously mentioned, presented a surreal atmosphere. As we drove on home to Independence, the electrical storm became much more intense.

This morning, on the drive back into KC, the black stream of smoke continued to funnel skyward in what otherwise were clearer, bright morning skies. The fuel tank was no doubt still actively ablaze. It brought back to mind pictures of the skies over Baghdad in the early days of the invasion. On an obviously smaller scale of course.

Journal bits this past week

• Was it Bukowski who said/upright is so overrated?/If he didn't, he should have.
• The doors finish is marred/with the anxious requests/of a dog who wants me to know/he wants out.
• Testing the wind/for aptitude,/I find myself defending/its meager showing.
• Someone will give us props, if not from ourselves they/will come, not as gentle rain/but as the rat-a-tat-tat/of an automatic that/ speaks and then leaves behind questions.