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...