Another week has come and gone. Another fantasy football weekend has come and gone. It felt almost like snow. I worked dinner magic from a shrinking pantry and grimaced at world events. It's time again for confession so let's get going...
Dear Reader:
I confess to feeling silly for sitting on the edge of my seat watching the clock and score of the Monday night football game to see if my fantasy team was able to maintain their lead and eek out a win. I mean we are talking football not baseball. (I did win)
This past week was the fifth week of a six week session of working with another poet on my writing. I confess it has gone too fast and I'm not ready to take the training wheels off yet. I want to cram so much work into this last week - not wanting to miss any opportunity to better myself. This is the second year I've done this and I confess that I believe every writer should block out some time each year to work with another writer. I'm reminded of therapists who go to therapists and so writers doing sessions with other writers to better their skills makes sense to me.
I noticed that my heel on my right dress shoes seems to have worn down some on one side. I confess that I really like these shoes and this annoys me. Years ago I used to sometimes put new heels on shoes. I've not done this in a while, in part because I would wear out the rest of the shoe first. I'm not sure if you can still find shoe repair shops to do this. I confess I still try to keep one foot in the past. **sigh**
I recently read a Pablo Neruda poem that I really liked. I've read some that I just didn't find very appealing and I was telling someone the other day it has occurred to me that I may have been reading poor translations. I remember Martin Espada - a Neruda scholar, one time saying there are many translations of Neruda's work - some good and some not so good. I confess that I need to explore some of these translations further. I may like him better then I thought.
I confess It doesn't seem like the holiday season to me presently.
I confess I've been anxious about writing lately.
I confess that right now I want some black walnut ice cream.
Tuesday, December 07, 2010
Monday, December 06, 2010
He Writes - She Submits
There is writing and there is submitting. One is creative the other administrative. While I haven't always felt this way, I've come to dislike submitting work. I suppose that is why I found Suppose someone submitted all your poems for you to be a fascinating interview over at Very Like A Whale.
Saturday, December 04, 2010
Magpie 43
Bridging the Gaps
The space that separates
becomes the mortar that binds—
lava winding through the highlands
of Nepal downward without care
a hardened dental filling
closing the decay
unifying all measure
of humanity.
The space that separates
becomes the mortar that binds—
lava winding through the highlands
of Nepal downward without care
a hardened dental filling
closing the decay
unifying all measure
of humanity.
2010© Michael A. Wells
Friday, December 03, 2010
Recommended Reading
A couple of things I've read at other sites that I though were noteworthy.
- Lessons from Pre-Schoolers a delightful commentary on lessons adults could take from pre-schoolers.
Negotiating Death with Ivy Alvarez The fascinating international poet and author of Mortal is interviewed by Alec Patric for Verity LA
Thoughts on Poets #6
Poetry is an act of peace. Peace goes into the making of a poet as flour goes into the making of bread.
~ Pablo Neruda
Thursday, December 02, 2010
Thoughts on Poets #5
Poets are like baseball pitchers. Both have their moments.
The intervals are the tough things. ~Robert Frost
Wednesday, December 01, 2010
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