Confession Tuesday

A week already? Let's go to Confession...

It's an extended weekend for me which was good. I didn't shave during it. I confess that I've grown tired of shaving. What makes this even worse is that I believe my whiskers are growing faster these days. It's like they are on steroids. I don't know, maybe it's a rush of testosterone. At any rate today it's back to the office and the growth came off. It was just as annoying shaving this morning then it was last time I did it on Friday. I know this sounds silly but I'm tired of shaving and I'm tired of the whiskers.

I confess the past week has really been relatively uneventful. That may be obvious by being annoyed by whiskers. I mean there really should be bigger issues in life.

I was home alone much of the weekend. This includes part of Valentine’s Day which didn't really seem like Valentine’s Day. My wife and daughter were in St. Louis. I confess it was lonely and I was really glad to see Cathy when she arrived home. We've planned to celebrate on an alternative day.

I confess that I spent some time working on a sestina during the time I was alone. I confess I was not happy with my efforts. I will return to this project later this week.

I confess I was Olympic Crazy this weekend. I love the Winter Games. I confess the Summer Games don't move me the same way. I confess there are several things about the coverage that are annoying me. For one the way they are doing the points for the free style skating. They put the judges points up cumulatively all at once and it takes some of the drama out of it.

I confess I do not care for the snowboarding or the moguls competition. I also confess that Ski Jumping - the downhill, the Nordic combined, figure skating, Hockey, luge, bobsled, these all get my blood flowing.

I confess I'd like to take off the rest of the Olympics and watch it all. Alas, I confess that isn't happening.

Is there a mysterious personification of you in your life?

It would be curious to discover who it is to whom one writes in a diary. Possibly to some mysterious personification of one's own identity.  ~ Beatrice Webb

Struck By Lightening

I realize there are no doubt poets (even major ones) that I ought to read more of. Sometimes I will read a half dozen or so poems of one poet and they just are not clicking with me in a way I would hope for. Sadly it may be a while before I get around to trying them again, and sometimes I may never.



Even though it’s early for Confession Tuesday, I’ll admit that I was never really much into the poetry of Lucille Clifton. I’ve read only a little of her work and she is a prime example of what I was just talking about. She was not a Ruth Stone, whose work I took an instant liking to or Sharon Olds, or W.S. Merwin. But I do know well enough that she was a poet whose work was widely read (as poetry goes) and that many adored her poems. Perhaps I just selected the wrong ones.


This weekend, along with her passing, I had an opportunity for exposure to a few more of her poems. One of those poems not only stood out, but it grabbed me and shook me. If it is true, what Randall Jarrell says about poetry, that “A poet is a man [or woman] who manages, in a lifetime of standing out in thunderstorms, to be struck by lightning five or six times” then, Blessing the Boats had to have been one of them. These fifteen lines of poetry do what poetry should do. It names the un-namable. In simple words, without flash or flair, Crafton speaks to the heart of the human condition and says something powerful… undeniably so, and what that is will probably be something different to each of us, but it will be incontrovertible to ourselves.

Blessing the Boats

Lucille Clifton, award-winning poet, dies at 73

The AP is reporting that Lucille Clifton has died at age 73.  She was the poet laureate for the State of Maryland from 1979-1985 and a National Book Award finalist and Pulitzer Prize finalist. She passed away this morning at Johns Hopkins University Hospital in Baltimore.





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Poetry in Medicine | Psychology Today

Danielle Ofri is a physician in New York City's Bellevue Hospital, and a writer and commentator about doctor-patient relationships. See full bio

Rx: Poetry

Published on February 12, 2010

When I make rounds with my students and interns, I always try to sneak in a poem at the end. I think poetry is important because it helps convey the parts of the medical experience that don’t make it into textbooks. It’s important because it teaches creative thinking—something of immense value to doctors.

Poetry in Medicine | Psychology Today

Technorati Tags: Poetry in Medicine

Olympic blogging...

I decided to take the majority of my blogging away from the stickpoet site. This is not to say I will be neglecting poetry, but I felt better not comingling thing for the most part.

So here is the link to the site of my Olympic blogging.

The opening ceremony is not far off, but there is already sad news as a Georgian (country not our southern state) was killed today in a horrific accident during a trial run on the Whisler Slider Center track. This tragedy certainly will hang over the opening celebration. I'll be posting later from the new sight.

Blame It On Canada

I anticipate the Winter Olympics every four years like a four year old awaiting Christmas. My eyes wide open in wonderment. My heart races with the sound of the Olympic theme music. And it’s here. It all comes together tonight with the opening ceremonies in Vancouver. I’m Olympic Crazy and you can blame it on Canada!



I can recount many times in the past watching events; many wonderful moments that my wife and I shared together enjoying the games. We won’t get to see them start together tonight as she will be out of town till Sunday, but then games go on till February 28th so there will no doubt be some time for us to watch parts of it together.





I’m not nearly as captivated by the summer games, but so many of the winter games trill me. Among my favorite are the Alpine Skiing, Ski Jumping, Cross Country, Hockey, figure skating. I even like curling now… but there is more to that story at a later date. I even have my favorite Olympic Games. They are Sarajevo in 1984 and Lake Placid in 1980. I think ’80 mostly for the U.S. Hockey team’s Victory. And in Sarajevo the Alpine events were all astonishingly exciting. Plus the coverage of the people in the host city, the human interest stories were wonderful.





I will probably blog more about the Winter Games this year; I just have not decided it to set up a separate blog site for them or continue to post here. I’ve got a few hours yet to think about it. I’ll let you know what I decide.