Happy Holidays

Wishing everyone this holiday season joy ~ peace ~ and safe travel.

Michael Wells

Latest 12 month Update

Pending responses: 16
Submissions sent last 12 months: 46
Submissions sent this month: 8
Acceptance ratio: 15.38 %

Poetry in the News Sunday 12-23-07

The poet Martín Espada on the passing of his friend and mentor Alexander "Sandy" Taylor, co-founder of Curbstone Press.

Literary Giants Lost: Paley,Vonnegut, Halberstam, Mailer
...But Promising Signs For 2008.

This morning from my bedroom I heard rain beating against the windows. Considering the temperature I knew this was not a good thing. Tonight the ball field across the street looks larger then life in massive white.

In the picture above, my bud Barry, maintains a stern view of things.

Started reading Pushkin's Eugene Onegin which my daughter brought home with her from school for the Christmas break. Considering her distaste of poetry I am intrigued that she enjoyed the book so much.

Haven't shared any journal bits for a few days so I'll throw some in this post...

• portions of the night are tattered/comfort estranged/rest could only be a figment of active imagination
• I looked at my left hand/traced the lines deep/into the country side/until I could not recall /how I got there
• strung together, we are popcorn/and cranberries- differences/flashing red lights do not exclude
• night is lax on standards/makes no effort to screen/leaving the door ajar
• there is one non sequitur/that echoes in your head/and loosens the bindings/of Webster's unabridged/joins the others as the new word for the year/the binding restitched all tidy

With the good comes a dilemma

As the year draws to a close, I find myself looking back on my work this year with both a satisfaction and a quandary about the future.

My success rate with getting material published has been the best ever this year. I think in part due to more aggressive submission efforts than past. Still, I do feel that I have managed some outstanding pieces of work over the year and this is a result for growth in my work.

I've placed a greater emphasis upon revision of my poems and keep them back longer in many instances then in the past. The dilemma I am facing is the feeling that the method I have relied upon for workshoping work is broken. There is not sufficient consistency available among my existing sources to be able to simply be satisfied with how this is working.

I have met in the past with another group at a local library for this purpose but there were only a couple of us writing poetry and the rest were fiction writers. It was not a good match and I discontinued my participation.

Our local poetry chapter has at times been a source of input, but we do not meet solely for the purpose of workshoping and while it proves helpful at times, it is not a situation where there are other who regularly use it for this purpose and as such I do not want abuse the meeting time.

There are others with whom I have in the past exchanged work by email for the purpose of workshoping and that has worked well at times, but more recently it seems again, a one way street. It is not a good thing when I am more regularly working on stuff and others have little or nothing to send. I am a firm believer that everyone needs to feel the benefit of such a process. Lately, (and perhaps it is due to the holiday season) everyone else seems to be at a standstill. At any rate, as I look ahead to the new year, I must figure out how to deal with this challenging issue.

Quote for the Day

"Art is only a means to life, to the life more abundant. It is not in itself the life more abundant. It merely points the way, something which is overlooked not only by the public, but very often by the artist himself. In becoming an end it defeats itself." ~ Henry Miller

Inevitable (draft)

Inevitable (draft)

The prodigal son is just one of many
though he knows expectations run high.
There is always this red velvet carpet
that divides his thought process.

The future is some worm baited taunt,
and awkward as being caught with a cousin
at the Perkins family reunion.
It takes the swim of salmon upstream

to break a biblical cycle
that darkens the sky and
chokes off free will.
Times like these you swear
You’re an orphan.