Miss You Mo-Mo

Moe Cooling Down 

In Loving Memory September 9, 2013

The Poet Prism

Always a poet, always searching in wonder.  To me, some things can only be seen through the prism of a poet's mind.

 

Its seems to me that much of my life has been an internal dialogue which in the past twenty years has manifested itself in written word. The Welsh poet R.S. Thomas has remarked that "All people talk to themselves. Some are overheard, and they are the poets." I suppose this is so, and I was trapped in this path long ago.

 

Maybe there are more people that are on the cusp of becoming poets and don't quite realize it. I've always felt that there are people I know that express disdain for poetry and yet I feel they don't really know what it is they don't like. It's more of a idea that they are arguing with themselves over they any concrete purpose. They just haven't quite figured out how or to whom to express it. If they did, maybe they world cross over the line and become one of us. 



Confession Tuesday.. Er Wednesday

Dear Friends & Readers:

Another Tuesday has come and gone. This one slipped through my fingers and I didn't realize it because being off Labor Day made it feel like a Monday. That’s my story and I’m sticking by it. So here I am heading to the Confessional a day late. At least there is no line.

I confess that it is hard to believe that it’s September. Hard to believe because it seems like the first pitch of spring training was just thrown out yesterday. Hard to believe too, because I usually make some provision for coaching/mentoring in the fall and I've done nothing towards that end this year. This I just realized today.

I've been so busy writing and submitting that I confess that I have in some ways been less aware of the world around me. Oh, I’m not neglecting to interact with my family. I’m not hold up in a room writing and forgetting to eat (though that might be a way to shed a few pounds) and I know about Syria, I know about sequester, and I’m aware that poetry & the world lost Seamus Heaney. It’s perhaps the more subtle things around me that are racing by.

I confess that days seem long and months seem fast. Does that make sense? Is this what getting older is like?    

True, time is an arbitrary measurement created by man but I confess that I wish it were more arbitrary to me personally. I’d like to stop the clock at times or at lease slow it down. True, I’d probably speed it up weekdays between 8 and 5 but I’m sure that as soon as I realized that I couldn't get all my work done I’d be more responsible or judicious in how I allocated it. At least I could make sure I got my confession done on Tuesday and not Wednesday.

Amen!

Slipped Out Of Her Jeans - Liquid Imagination

LIQUID IMAGINATION Issue 18 is live and I am fortunate to have one of my poems with so many other really outstanding works.

You can catch Slipped Out of Her Jeans HERE and an additional treat is that there is an audio read of the poem by the vary talented Nic Sebastian. Here voice gives depth to the poem and I was thrilled to have her share in this publication with me.

LOSS

Seamus Heaney 

13 April 1939 – 30 August 2013

The completely solitary self: that's where poetry comes from, and it gets isolated by crisis, and those crises are often very intimate also.

Confession Tuesday on Wednesday

Dear Reader:

I confess to being absent minded yesterday. Yes, yesterday was Tuesday and that's Confession day here except my mind was, we it was somewhere else because It didn't even remotely think of  confessing anything.

Some days I think about it and I'm too tired and just put it off a day. Sometimes I'm out till late and by the time I'm home it just seems like it can wait. Not yesterday... yesterday was out of sight and mind.

                                                                ~0~

I'm starting to realize that summer is not long for this year. Of course today the heat wouldn't agree, but the shadows that fall across the yard this time of evening, the fact that schools are starting and this weekend is labor day weekend, these things are a reminder that the season of color is coming. Maybe an even stronger indicator is the fact that baseball is at that stage in the season where people talk of magic numbers. The number of games remaining till post season nearly half my age and a melancholy umbrella seems to shield me from exuberance. I confess that I'm feeling fall in my bones.

                                                               ~0~

My wife is a bead artist. Some days she will tell me she doesn't feel much like an artist but some days I feel like it's a stretch to call myself a poet. Don't all artists do this to themselves at times?  I've shown some pictures in past years of work my wife has done and it you would look at it you would likely agree that there is artistry in it. Every once and a while I get to thinking that I wish we would collaborate on something - maybe an abstract bead-work with a poem.  I confess that I realize there are real challenges that couples who are artists have in dealing with each others artistic approaches and work itself. Cathy is not particularly a poetry person though she is very supportive of me. The one art issue we most would butt heads over would be when my work tends to be more abstract. I confess that I love working in abstracts. I confess that I have no hope of convincing her to work in abstract given how she feels about abstract poetry.  Still, I can dream.

                                                           ~0~

I confess that lately I've been challenging my own tendency to want to procrastinate over things that I am anxious about. I would not say that I'm in danger of getting kicked out of procrastinators anonymous but I'm sure the general membership would disapprove of some of my minor successes of late.

That's it for this week.

Amen!

   

Letting Wonder Come to You

The sea, once it casts its spell, holds one in its net of wonder forever. ~ Jacques Cousteau

Everyone  would do well to find the poet deep withing themselves that allows wonder to come, take hold of their life and change it. 

Recomended - 4 for Sunday

It's Sunday and I've realized that I have not been posting nearly as often as I used to. That's not necessarily a bad thing if you really don't have anything interesting to say, or you do but haven't the time to get it said right. It's often been one or the other. I have however seen a lot of interesting stuff this week that I thought I'd share case you may have missed any of it.

Martha Silano at Blue Positive posted her Ten Poetry Rules and while there is a slice of humor in them there seems to me to be a heap of wisdom in there too. Martha is the author of The Little Office of the Immaculate Conception, winner of the 2010 Saturnalia Books Poetry Prize and one of my favorite reads this year.

Then there is Jeannine Hall Gailey the Poet Laureate of Redmond, WA who writes Feeling Discouraged about Poetryworld?  First let me say that I like hearing a Poet Laureate talk about discouragement and poetry together. It's comforting to know that even a laureate can feel the pain of discouragement. I also like that she used the word poetryworld as I do feel like I live in that world.
Jeannine is the author of several books the latest of which is Unexplained Feavors which came out this spring and while it's on my list to read I have read earlier books and enjoyed her work.

In interesting read I found this week was Wolf Girl by Nic Sebastain. I love the second stanza.

And finally, a poem by the late Denise Levertov titled The Secret. What I lovr about this poem is the amount of depth she achieves in relatively simple verse.

If you missed any of this, not you have no excuse not the check it out. 

Confession Tuesday - Going Goats

Dear Reader:

It's been another week. How does this happen?

I'm headed to the confessional, care to come along?

Yes, it's been a week since my last confession.

My daughter takes this picture on the right and shows it to me tonight. This is one of two pygmy goats that my daughter informed me are at the shelter where she works. I confess I want a pygmy goat. I know with the pets we currently have this is not really an option. The neighbors probably would not take too kindly to it either but it's sooo cute, isn't it!! I don't know their genders but  I can just picture a boy goat named Gruffy and a girl goat named Greta.  I think we could probably stop mowing the back yard.

I confess sometimes I have a vivid imagination. That's a good thing right? I mean I think it's paramount to an artist's work isn't it.

Thinking back to my childhood, I have a history with goats.  I'm mentioned here before that as a child I had four imaginary goats that I used to keep alongside me on leads. If I needed to make a trip to the bathroom I would hand them off to another to hold for me. Looking back on this I see now that I man have been more suited for artistic endeavor then I realized until later in life.

I confess that I do wish at times that I had approached my writing life differently. I would certainly have begun it at an earlier age and perhaps the trajectory that I took might have looked different.

I confess too that I have learned in life that it really isn't of particular value to focus on regrets. Nothing positive really comes of dwelling upon what could have been.  It seems much more important for me to redouble my commitment and efforts towards my writing and utilize what time and what knowledge I have to move forward. So I will I will hope that Gruffy and Greta find good homes and in carry on writing with my four invisible goats in tow.

Submission Saturday Check-in

I have my Diet Coke (DC constitutes a food group) in for the morning but haven't thought beyond that for breakfast. It's Submission Saturday, something I generally devote my afternoon to. Once and a while I got a jump on it and get my submissions done before noon.  We'll see how this all happens later.

Of notable interest this week -

• I discovered a poet that strikes me as too good to keep secret.  So if you have not heard of Melissa Broder check out a few of her poems here. If you peel back her humor there is something genuinely serious about her. If you scrape the edges of her serious side she is deathly funny.
• Something really awesome happened related to one of my poems but I'm not telling just yet.
• Mail man brought my copy of Victoria Chang's The Boss yesterday. Poetry in the mail box gives me a real high. I'll have more on this book in a few days.
• Two new drafts this week that I have to work on refining.
• Number of Submissions past 12 months - 79. Still pending 29.
• Tuesday night met with some other poet friends.
• Watched way too many episodes on 24. I'll probably do it again this next week.

Confession Tuesday - Gratitude Edition

Dear Reader:

I’m a day late, but I had a poetry group meeting last night and rather then head to the confessional, I elected to watch some TV with my wife. So I confess that it’s been a week and a day since my last confession. Shall we get started?

 I confess that I have a wonderfully supportive wife when it comes to my writing. I know not all writers have supportive families that encourage or help in other ways. My wife may not always understand my writing but what she understands is that writing is a central tenet to my life. It’s like water. It’s air. It is the lifeblood of my day to day mental health. Okay, no wise cracks…. I’m as normal as any writer.

 Sometimes I will come home from work and there will be an event that evening and it’s been a rough day and I may say, “I just don’t know if I’m up for it tonight.” She will sometimes say something like, Oh go on, and you’ll feel better in the end.” And many times I will buckle up and go. But if I’m really dragging and elect not to go, that’s okay too. She is not going to make me feel bad about my decision.

 A few months ago when we feared the crashing of my 6 year old laptop, she made sure I got out and got a replacement one in time. This weekend I was trying to get set up wirelessly to one of the printers on our network since I've been displaced from my home office and it was not easy for me to get to my old printer, she took time out of her busy day to see that this happened when I had trouble with the network.

 I confess that I could not ask for a more supportive person in my life.

 Amen!

Confession Tuesday - Not with football you don't edition

Tuesday, so I'm off to the confessional. Won't you join me.

Dear Reader:

It has been a week of  umpteen episodes of Glee and 21, one poetry acceptance, two rejections,  and a haircut since my last confession.

When I arrived home tonight the little snot nosed kids that play football were all assembled on the baseball field across the way and cars lining the street. Parents all in their social circles of folding chairs jabbering with one another in the great pee-wee football frenzied. Orange cones sprang up in the grass for use by the coaches in conducting drills

I'm certain the moms and dads are watching their little tykes with some degree of pride, Perhaps a dash of trepidation as well, knowing that at some point these kids will come head to head with another person whose job it is to flatten them.

Now I'm sure I sound like the curmudgeon my daughters and wife are periodically suggesting that I have become. But I confess I have nothing against these youngsters at all. The problem is that when we bought our home, I delighted in the fact that there was a baseball diamond a few hundred yards from my doorstep. I've played catch on that field, shagged flies on that field, held batting practice on that field, and enjoyed watching others do the same, and to wit, baseball for me is synonymous with poetry and poetry  synonymous with life.

Folks, the ink on the August calendar isn't dry yet and these football types are committing sacrilege
under my watchful eye.  I confess that I don't wish harm to come to any of these people, but is it wrong of me to wish that a half hour before their next practice there were already two ball teams occupying the field and they had to go someplace else?

Of course I'm asking this rhetorically and It is not necessary for anyone to actually comment as to how mean spirited this sounds. I'm pretty sure God in his glory prefers baseball and is just as miffed about the encroachment of this baseball field by shoulder padded mini-refrigerators.

 

Confession Tuesday - Junkie Edition

Dear Reader:

It's been two weeks since my last confession.  Follow me to the box and let's get started....

I confess that I used a mind mapping program last night to brainstorm for an approach to a themed poem I am working on.

I confess that  my San Francisco Giants are in a free-fall. You can't get much lower then being swept by the Cubs. In each game it was by a single run but still...   They started out strong but the wheels seem to be falling off. Yesterday they stopped by the White House and Obama joked that the have a "habit of stopping by the White House". In honoring last years World Series Champs he reminded them, "Hey, you're a second half team."

I confess I need an acceptance letter this month. Does that make me seem like a junkie?

I confess this has become the summer of melons. Watermelon and Cantaloupe have both been exceptional this year and have become a staple in our household.

I confess I've been watching old episodes of Glee and 24 for the first time. I'm always a day late and a dollar short.

That's it for this week...  you are returned to regularly scheduled activities.

Shadow

 

 

 

 

"I thought the most beautiful thing in the world

must be shadow."- Sylvia Plath

The Mag 178: Moon on the Horizen

 

Andrew Wyeth - The Man and the Moon - 1990

 

 



When the land spreads out against the horizon
no man made obstacles to block the view
the moonrise breaks over natural terrain
is a sight to behold

And summer nights when the air is split apart
by the resistance of your bike on the road
your veins are rush with blood
as your body grows goose bumps

Not another soul in sight and the only sound
aside from the song of nature is the putt-putt
of your engine as you throttle down to a stop
dismount the bike and stand stark still

Facing the rising night light
in silent homage and obedience
to the calling stars
even a grown man cries



Michael A. Wells

The Mag

Confession Tuesday - All-Star Edition

Dear Reader:

I confess that I am aware it's actually Wednesday but if you know me you know my world revolves around baseball. Yesterday was the All-Star game and my mind occupied elsewhere. But here I am tonight to clear everything up for the week.

I confess that something is amiss and the finger seems to be pointing to me. But maybe it's not. Maybe it's all in my head. For the better part of a week now people seem to be asking  me questions for which I have no clue. I'm not talking about the answer as much as I am the question. If I have a blank look on my face when the question is asked it's because I have no idea what the basis of the conversation is. It's as if people are assuming that I know things that  I don't. This is of course frustrating but more significantly it's actually bashing the hell out of my self esteem.  It has happened so much that I'm feeling pretty stupid. There is no accounting otherwise for the look I'm getting when I'm totally clueless. What else am I to think.

The dogs are restless tonight. God are they restless. Who gave them energy drinks? But it's not jet me they are driving crazy. My wife has about had it with them tonight.

And who is putting all the good TV shows against each other making the taping of them on our DVR difficult. I confess that we've gotten hooked on too many shows but we can only do two recordings at the same time - three requires magic.

Well, I've got a couple more days left this week and I hope I can find a little magic. Don't all poets believe in a little magic?

Realizing it is Us...

It's a quiet Saturday where I sit this morning. Everyone else in the household is off doing something but I've been reflecting about an article I read this week in Poets & Writers.  Actually I've been sort of triangulating between art, community and literary journals.

Most who read this blog will have no problem grasping the significance of art an/or literary magazines in daily life, but I do have friends who don't get it. Why should they, for most have no interest in poetry and any reading they do is for pleasure (nothing wrong with that) but I'm thinking for the most part what they are reading is pretty superfluous.

What has sparked my thoughts this morning is an arts magazine call The Newtowner. Founded in early 2010 this journal of literary, visual and preforming arts is produced by a volunteer staff in a small Western Connecticut community  that became a house world this past December with the tragic shooting of twenty children and six staff members at the Sandy Hook Elementary School.

The Newtowner is a quarterly magazine. Following the that tragic December, Georgia Monagham, magazine founder reports that she felt like she didn't care if The Newtowner ever went to press again. But that changed as she considered the magazine had an opportunity to do something for the community. The Newtowner could actually play a role in helping to define the community rather then allowing it to be defined by the events on December 14, 2012.

What has happened since that time is to move ahead with a tribute issue to Newtown. Also a goal to put a free copy in the hands of everyone in Newtown, Connecticut.

Monagham's idea is a significantly positive message reflecting art. If a community can be defined by it's art, doesn't that make it's art all the more relevant? I think it does and I love the idea that out of this tragedy such a vision is possible, but must we have tragedy in order for us to define ourselves by art? Must it take such darkness in our lives to realize we are the art? I think more communities should explore their art. Newtown could be a ripple that undulates through communities around this country that allow themselves to find their talents and allow others locally to see those talents first hand.

Others who have lent a hand to this special issues include:

• Nationally acclaimed authors and illustrators  Wally Lamb, Lois Lowry, Katherine Paterson,and Steven Kellogg
• Pulitzer Prize-winning poet Yusef Komunyakaa
•   Sesame Street’s Alan Muraoka

I'm always hearing people say, "poetry is just not relevant to me" and perhaps when we see that  we are all poets, painters, photographers, singers, dancers, story tellers we will meet art and realize it is us.

Note: you can help with funding the project to put a copy of The Newtowner in every home in Newtown by making a contribution here.     Or pre-order get your own copy.

Daily Challenge

I arise in the morning torn between a desire to improve the world and a desire to enjoy the world. This makes it hard to plan the day. - E.B. White

Confession Tuesday - the Celsius Edition

Dear Reader:

Tuesday means confession time and I confess that I'm feeling  a little punctual today so let's head to the confessional.

Reader it has been a week since my last confession and
this seems all a bit circular if you know what I mean.

I confess that I wanted to surprise my wife by cooking something new from a recipe book of quinoa dishes. This idea came to me because Cathy has utilized quinoa in cooking - though not in ways that particularly seemed appealing to me. We both like stuffed peppers.  I've made them with ground beef and ground turkey and when I saw a recipe for stuffed peppers with quinoa I thought this would be a great dish for us to try together so I embarked on it tonight.

When I make stuffed peppers I usually do it in the oven & use a Pam like spray on the peppers.  At say 350 degrees.  This recipe called for them to be submerged in warm water and cooked at 180 for 10 minutes covered and another 5 minutes uncovered.  I thought this was incredibly below temperature and time but I trudged on with the cooking. I confess while I deep down knew this was not possible it never occurred to me that the recipe was in Celsius, hence it would have been about 400 in Fahrenheit. Consulting with my wife we made necessary changes and went on successfully finish the dish. I confess that in spite of my lack of common sense we were able to  create a really enjoyable dish.

I confess that this week I've wasted way too much time playing Words with Friends. My wife got it on her new phone and she got me to playing it again. I've had something like #%*!( games going at once.

Some of this may be because the past few days I've had problems with my laptop and it has frustrated me and caused me to get off track on writing and the has emotionally drug me down.  I know this is no excuse - simply a reason.  I've spent too much time on the phone with tech support and this thing is going back. Then I resort to playing  games. Vicious cycle.

Hardly Worth Mentioning

A poem I wrote several years ago found a home at Punchnel's.

 Hardly Worth Mentioning  is the second poem of mine  to appear in  Punchnel's Magazine these last two months.

I always find interesting material in Punchnel's...It's a fun stop on the Internet and not just because of my work. ;-)

You Are WHO You Are

“Today you are You, that is truer than true. There is no one alive who is Youer than You.”  Dr. Seuss

Yeah for the Simple or No Xanax Required

There are simple things in life that can make your day.  I'm dog sitting away from the house today missing  my family and the normal 4th of July stuff.... (Happy Birthday Shannon!)   It is however an opportunity to do some writing and reading.  I have an ASUS laptop that I've had just shy of two months now. I've previously used and loved Toshiba. This ASUS laptop is thinner - or svelte, there are things I like about it but the one hang-up I've had has been the touchpad (I usually use a wireless mouse) which constantly is activated by my palm as I type no matter how hard I try to be careful. This means that frustratingly my cursor is constantly getting moved all over my page inserting  words where they were not intended and making a mess of almost any project I'm working on.  I never experienced this problem with other laptops.... only this one.

I spent  close to two hours today with support trying various methods to disable the touchpad. This is something that is supposed to be option. Pushing the Fn button and the f9 buttons should disable it, but no, not for me. We tried numerous other possibilities which always came up empty. Tried uploading other files and setting changes - nothing. I finally gave up for the afternoon. I refused to do a refresh as that would have meant reloading programs. I was not up to that tonight.

A few minutes ago I did the Fn & f9 buttons (something I've tried repeatedly and Walla!  They worked! I'm typing this without the touchpad miss-interruptions. It's really cool! I'm a happy person again.*



 *No Xanax was used in the creating of this happiness.

Confession Tuesday - Keep Calm Edition

Dear Friends-

Yet another week has come and gone. Won't you come with me to the confessional?

The planetary alignment is not presently good for the vehicles in our family.  We have multiple car issues that have all hit at once. I confess that car problems are a big stressor for me. Fortunately we have not had a lot of them lately but the astro-vehicular alignment was like a plague yesterday and we are still dealing with the repercussions  and likely will be for a couple days more. My poor tired daughter picked me up from work, took me to the chiropractors tonight and then my final destination for the evening.  She still has places to be yet tonight. I confess I appreciate her help but feel for her and her late nigh driving saga.

With the 4th of July holiday falling on Thursday I confess that I feel cheated. Monday or Friday would work quite nicely. I'm pinning for a 3 day weekend and I cannot lie. I confess right now I have the melody for "I like big butts and I cannot lie" running through my head and an the words "big weekends" substituted for rumps. It's a  little weird, I'll give you that.

I got some really good poetry news yesterday but I confess that I cannot share it just yet.

I confess that I'm reading in my Kindle more lately. I confess I STILL prefer real pages in binding. I do like the convenience of it and the % as opposed to page numbers.

I've debated some things lately with respect to my poetry and these little internal debates while not new, have presented with levels of  clarity I've not been accustomed to. This is good because it means that I've not been fretting as much about such things as do I enter this contest; to I submit the work here or there and then being a piece with myself after the deadlines have passed.

I think I'm becoming a calmer poet. This also seems to be crossing over into other aspects of my life. I confess that this feels like a good thing.

Amen

Confession Tuesday - My Passions Edition

Dear Reader:

It's been one more wedding anniversary, back to back home runs and a Saturday off from submitting and writing and yes, one more week since my last confession.

Saturday being our wedding anniversary I took a break from both submitting and writing so that we could get out of the house and celebrate without distraction. We succeeded in doing so and I did not worry that the sky would fall in. I confess that it would not have been surprising for me to freak out about not at least submitting if not writing, but I was proud of myself, maybe a bit relived even that I did not stress out. I was able to separate myself completely from any obsession that I changed my routine. It really was refreshing to feel the detachment.

My son and I went to the ball game on Sunday and amazingly the Royals had back to back home runs. Almost as amazing they won. They have had little offense of late.  Of course when it comes to baseball I confess my heart really belongs to San  Francisco.

A few days ago I read an article about another article.  And then another about the same article (of the second part). Okay, if this is getting confusing the article about which all others pointed was a Harper's essay by Mark Edmundson titled Poetry Slam or the decline of American Verse.  The Edmundson Essay sits behind the Harper's paywall, and I'm not a subscriber so I've not seen the real thing. (That too is a confession)  Edmundson at least by the quotes from other responses I've read was pretty harsh in his assessment of the current poetry scene. I've talked with a couple of other poets who have read the responses but again not the Edmundson essay.  It's funny but such discourse  about poetry/poetics often remind me of hot stove league. If you are not into baseball, the hot stove league is the chatter that of the happens off season between baseball fans pining for the real thing. They debate possible trades, theoretic benefits of such player swaps  between teams. I confess  I have long seen similarities between poetry and baseball. It's no wonder I love both.

 

Can A Person Be Reading Too Many Books?

It comes down to this... I'm wondering if a person can be reading too many books?  I suppose you can say that the answer to this question is subject subjective... each person is different. That answer works up to a point. If I were to tell you I am actively reading maybe eight or nine books right now would you think this crazy?

The fact is I do often read multiple books and quite frankly I'd say eight-ish is likely an accurate count if I were to sit down and list them. Do others have a ongoing host of books commanding their attention at one time? I haven't even mentioned the poetry books on my night stand that I've already read but continue to go back to from time to time, often in the evening to read two or three random works before I retire.

Yes, I could finish books faster if I stuck to one book at a time, but my mind gets easily fragmented into different areas and causes me to in any given week want to be feeding  my divergent interests. Is that such a bad thing?

I guess what I am wondering is... am I an enigma? Please, someone tell me that I'm not the only person who scatter reads multiple books at one time. Humor me, even if you would never think of it.

Confession Tuesday - Ginsu Knife Edition

Dear Reader:

Close your eyes with me and pretend it's Tuesday. Are you with me?  Good!

It's been one father's day,  one chiropractic visit, a new poem in publication  and a June week since my last confession.

I confess that it feels like we've transitioned into summer and that's all right with me. I'm not one who does heat well, but so far it has not been that bad. I realize the hottest part of the year is still ahead, but I have spent some time reading and occasionally writing on our deck as the dogs play. I confess that it may be early to be singing the praise of summer but I am going to try and embrace the spirit of summer. At least for now.

I confess that having three poems accepted in less then 48 hours last month has spoiled me. I am well aware that this was a most unlikely occurrence. I've had thee in one month before but never in two days. Having started Submission Saturday some months back, I confess that I am more optimistic about my work being  published. I hate to think of it like this but being published is a little like selling  Ginsu knifes or encyclopedias door to door; metaphorically speaking that is. You have to hear "no" a lot if you are ever going to get one "yes".

I confess another thing about June that is exciting is the fact that many of the shows we like to watch on TV are coming back into their new seasons. Yeah.

I had a dream last night that my wife and I attended our class reunion. This was pretty interesting since I confess I've never attended my class reunion. I've wanted to but Cathy has had no interest in attending with me. Don't get me wrong, she has never discouraged me from going, she just has never had any desire to go along. I've never wanted to go alone.  So last night in my dream we went together. This morning I could only recall one person out of all the attendees that we know.  I confess going wasn't worth it.

That will about do it for this week. Until next week, keep pushing your Ginsu knifes.

Toy Soldiers - Summer Issue of Boston Literary Magazine

Summer 2013 and The Poster Girls of Boston Literary Magazine

 

 

The Summer Edition of the Boston Literary Magazine is available and it features one of my own poems titled Toy Soldiers.

 

I have not devoured every morsel of the issue yet but some poems that I was particularly impressed with...

• Tewksbury Mental Hospital by  Elaine Moynahan
• The Gift by Corey Cook
• How We Too Haven't Stayed Young by Rene Lee

Always a good read.  My complements to the editors!

Amazon sales of Orwell's 1984 rise 9,500%

Given the recent attention to the NSA news of data mining  phone, e-mail and Internet records, sales of  George Orwell's novel about a society in which big brother knows all has skyrocketed. Knowledge of their once secret spy program called PRISM  has sparked new debate about the dangers of a government that has the ability to watch our every move.

Confssion Tuesday - On Time Edition

Surprise!

Dear Reader...

It's TUESDAY and it's confession time. I confess that I cannot recall how many weeks it has been since I actually  confessed on Tuesday. I've been late, late, late. I'm thinking  it's been three, maybe even four weeks since I last got it right.

Tonight I got together with some other poet friends in the northland. We read and wrote and it was all good. I confess that I realize that I need to get out more to readings & other events.

The past few weeks I've been hooked on Scandal. I confess that I often catch on to TV shows multiple seasons into to them. My wife and I both have been zipping through two seasons and wow - the shows are captivating. Honestly I was hooked 15 seconds into the first episode. My daughter Cathy Ann turned us on to it.

I'm keeping my fingers crossed as I type this. I've had some issues with my new laptop and I hope that these issues are all behind. I confess I've learned one thing about Windows 8... it is designed to just start all over when you have problems. Neat? I'm not so sure. Anyway, I'm typing with crossed fingers.

I confess tonight I wrote a keeper at the poetry meeting. I will return to it  in a day or two and start reworking it to see where it  takes me.

I came home tonight thinking of watermelon. We have had two super sweet ones in the past week.  I had that taste hanging onto my tongue all day. I confess it was all gone when I got home. Last year the watermelons were sub par and scrawny. I confess I'm looking forward to a replacement melon in the next few days.

The Mag - 172 / Walled Memories

Charleston Farmhouse Door

It could have been inviting.

An assemblage of colors

whose meaning is subject 

to ones interpretation.

I fancied a room, a child's room.

A room from long ago, 

whose inhabitant unseen

for one reason or another

for numerous years

while a proxy kept

watch over it and for

the return of the child 

grown.

But the lock withdrew

any invitation to the room.

A room unchanged

perhaps dusted pristine.

Perhaps too painful

the memories-

to be reconstructed;

too painful to forget.

Michael A. Wells (c) 2013

The Mag

Submission Saturday....

It always feel so good when I'm finished with Submission Saturday.

• last 12 months - 66 
• submissions still pending 24
• accepted still pending publication 2

The Mag -171 / We Have Never Known

Morris Graves - Walking, Walking, Singing in the Next Dimension? 1979

Eyes pressured by destinations beyond. 

Walking, walking, singing, chewing gum...

flight becomes the norm. Man becomes bird,

becomes one with air, the sky, and the heavens.

The mind in circles

spirals off to new heights

now we are the hawks

we are the song birds

we are the doves...

We calculate 

we praise

we seek a peace doesn't exist

but we know it is out there.

We have always been evolving,

becoming...

We have never known 

what we will be tomorrow. 

Michael A. Wells (c) 2013 

The Mag

Confession Tuesday - Um edition

Dear Reader:  It's been 5 days since my last confession  which was very late and now this one too is tardy since it should be cone on Tuesday, hence the name "Confession Tuesday."

I confess that I have toyed with changing the date but I suspect that would not work any better.  If you get busy and forget, or as I confess the case was Tuesday night, I took my daughter to a ballgame then crashed and burned when we got home.

I confess I have not written much since the weekend. I've actually  thought about taking a short break and while I ruled this out I realized if I haven't been writing much I already have essentially taken a break of sorts. Are you starting to realize a theme here? Like say confusion?

But let's go back to Tuesday night. I Confess that as much as I love baseball, being there with my daughter was the real treat. My wife and I used to go to games sometimes together but she doesn't like the heat, humidity, scorching  sun (pick one) that normally is associated with the game. I don't blame her for that. Still, I confess that miss her at games.

At the game Meghan and I saw an interesting bird on the guy  wire that held up the net behind home plate. Using my Audubon phone application we determined it must have been an Orange crowned Warbler. This was a cool memory of the ballpark, as was Gordon's throw from left field where he nailed the runner  on what  seemed like a sure fire double. I confess the Royals offense sucked. But you find you moments in a game where you can. Sometimes the bats aren't happening.

I confess that I still recall today as the day Robert F. Kennedy died. Having won the California Primary on the night of  June 5th I still recall shortly after excitedly hearing clips from his victory speech at the Ambassador Hotel in LA, the news wires were abuzz with word of him being shot a close range in the hotel. I was in school back then and I recall that we had a class picnic planned at Tower Park. Several of us stayed  glued to a transistor radio for reports on his condition throughout the morning.

Last weekend I had to go up on our roof and make a repair in a leak around a vent in our roof.  I confess that my knees are just beginning to feel within a normal range from my roof trip. If they remain  of only minimal discomfort I plan to get my bike out a ride a bit this weekend. Of course that also depends on  having a weekend that is not all showers.

I confess my head feels a little clearer now. Maybe confession has been a good thing. I confess my lunch our is about over and I need to get back to work.

Submission Saturday - On Deck

I set up a folding table on the deck moments ago and brought my laptop out. There is sun on the far end of the deck but I'm where I can catch some shade for a while anyway. 

I brought the dogs out... Mo is sun bathing on the deck and Klaus is watching me dutifully. Barry is... well he's out of sight doing his own thing. He's a dachshund, I wouldn't expect anything else. 

And so begins Submission Saturday... it starts with the shade with a cool breeze. Who knows how it will end.  

Feeling A Tad Bit Overwhelmed - RECOMMENDED READING

This post by Kelli Agodon is highly recommended  ~ Book of Kells: Confession Tuesday on Thursday: The Swamped Edition (Or How to Stop Being an Overwhelmed Swamp Monster)Sel

Confession Tuesday on Wednesday - Bad Habit Edition

This is getting to be embarrassing. It's been one week since my last confession (which was a day late) and here I am again.

Forgive me readers:

Yes it's been a week but I could swear it should be longer so I have even less excuse. I confess I firmly believe it should be Friday. When you think about it that is pretty pathetic since I had a Monday holiday. That on top of a week's vacation!

Travel is tiring to me so the vacation was a bit draining. I confess I love flying but  everything else with travel, time zone changes, the hurry here and hurry there, these things try my patience.

I confess that I am ready to send out some new material this weekend when I do Submission Saturday.It always excites me when I have new material to send out. Still, I can't help it, I worry that I should have tinkered with it longer as soon as it drops into the mailbox or I hit the send button.

I confess I still have dirty clothes from the trip and I need to do laundry tonight.

I confess that I need to get up and let the dogs out as they are looking at me in a most perturbed manor.

Until next week - may all your habits be good ones!

Journal Bits - May

A sampling for me journal this month...

May 2nd - This morning traffic snarled but couldn't keep me away. I arrived in time to resent being here, to resist the start of the day without success.

May 6th - The weekend was uniquely positive in terms of writing...  Three poems accepted for publication within 48 hours is so exciting and unfortunately sets a new bar that I'm sure I will not often reach again - but there is hope like the stars, I can look from the distance and dream.

May 7th - If the sun sets today on my life/I will not disappoint the cartographer/for my journey will be one that is not/subterranean but rallies around/dancing light and open byways.

May 9th - two books in the mail today from Martha Silano - her own The Little Office Of The Immaculate Conception and Radial Symmetry by Katherine Larson. Woot!

May 10th - I tend to isolate things like bird songs/or the lessor popped kernels of corn./Or things my wife says with special emphasis/on the details detached from major points.

May 12th - yesterday I thought a workshop to eight writers... then in the evening I sent out three poems.

Time has been unfriendly to me and I left my sanity in the midst of a new operating system on a computer that is pounding the blood vessels against a phantom anvil inside my head.

May 22nd - In Tempe, AZ for Meghan's wedding - It's been a lazy sort of day... I've finished a poem draft today and got some reading done. Trying to be open to another poem coming to me....

May 23rd  - The bubble wrap is gone/the thing now is just/boxed delight - fragile.

Confession Tuesday - Late

Dear Reader:

It's been a grueling week and a day since my last confession.

I confess the obvious.... I'm a day late.

I'm on vacation - day three now but it hardly seems like it.  I confess that I traveled 1,354 miles more or less to arrive at my destination (Phoenix) yesterday and I am wiped out. I feel as if I could have flapped my arms to get here rather than by jet. Some of that is because my last week at the office was an intense one trying the leave less on the burner for others to deal with and make my return less stressful as well. I confess the latter never seems to work.

The flight on Southwest wasn't too bad. Only a little turbulence in the early going and I expected it given the turbulent weather in the Midwest these past few days. I haven't flown in a while and I generally enjoy it. When I fly I confess I'm a window hog.

I took a brief swim this morning and it did loosen up the stiff mussels. I confess I really am going to need a nap today. I do have some quiet time available for writing and I intend to make use of it.

We are here for my daughter's wedding and I confess that that I am both excited and anxious about it. I'm very happy for her and I want her wedding day to come off perfect. I confess I'm not sure what that would look like, but I have ideas about what it might not look like. I realized they rarely are picture perfect but  I want her memories of it the be good ones. Happy ones. Lots of friends and good time.

I confess I love the scenery in Arizona but hate the heat. How people live here I cannot imagine.

I confess I had diet coke withdrawal earlier but I'm halfway through a 44 oz and doing better now.

My prayers have continued to flow for the people in Moore, Oklahoma. I can only imagine how hard it must be for those homeless there now not to mention families that have lost loved ones.

This morning my cell rang and it was our disposal company with a message that trash pickup next week would be pushed back a day due to the memorial day holiday. Even during vacation, life goes on.

Submission Saturday Starts in 30 Minutes

I've got to shift some files from one laptop to the other or work from my old laptop to do submission Saturday today. Yes, that  ads a layer of work moving stuff, and maybe I'll just use the today to complete this weeks submissions. Still, I do need to get some stuff moved.

It sucks when you have work out that is waiting someplace you'd like to see if  find a home and don't want it to submit it any place else till you here back.  I do a lot of simultaneous submissions but there are pieces that I really want to control more where they might end up. Getting picky I guess.

Confession Tuesday - Busy Week Edition

Dear Reader-

It's been two weeks, three poems accepted, one new laptop and a poetry workshop since my last confession.

I confess that I have this mysterious pain that comes and goes just below my  right waste-line. It's been doing this off and on for a while now and I've gone to the doctor they can offer no explanation so far. Labs are fine, no bladder infection, x-rays show nothing extraordinary. Sometimes I'll go a while with nothing and then the pain can be bad enough to keep me awake parts of the night. It's good to know some of the things that have been ruled out but it remains frustrating just the same.writers

Saturday morning when the sky was bright with invitation I was conducting a poetry writing seminar with 8 writers who could be out soaking up the sun rays but were instead sitting around tables doing writing prompts for three hours. I confess that I was appreciative to have such an attentive group to work with.

My new laptop is an ASUS & it has windows 8 operating system on it. I have been a Tashiba user for  a long time. I did not pick this one out. My wife and computer savvy daughter did. Windows 8 dealt me a fit the first two days. It's still not my favorite platform but I am getting the hang of it.

It's been a pretty good week... And I've had three new poetry books delivered by the postman since the weekend you can't get much better then that.

Poem Up On Punchnel's

My poem titles "Both" appears on Punchnel's today. This is a really interesting venue, an eclectic collection of material. Check it out!  Oh, and click here for my poem.

Feel Good Delivered By E-Mail

It's been an exceptionally good weekend for me with two different venues accepting a total of three poems. I think from now on I'd like my acceptances in bunches please.

I know we can't always have what we want but  it really feels good to get several poems accepted over two days as opposed to several rejection letters over two days.

This is just another example of my Submission Saturday venture paying dividends.

Worked on some re-writes today. I'm trying to put together about three more pieces that need some fine tuning so that they can be ready  for prime time too.

Confession Tuesday - feeling life edition...

Tuesday again! Come along to the confessional...

Dear Reader:

It's been a week since my last last confession. Much of that confession dealt with a death watch for my mother-in-law. She has since passed and we put her to rest in a funeral service yesterday. This turned my weekend into a three day weekend and I confess I believe we all in this household were worn down by the weeks leading up to this. 

I confess that the service was short but nice. The weather preformed perfectly and it added an uplifting element.  But this is now past. Life goes on.

I confess that  the "life" part of that is what I want to focus on. I confess too that I want to feel life more deeply. I want not to miss any part of it. I want to be passionate about life. I want to see more art in life, sing more songs and read more lines of poetry into each minute of the day. 

Praise be to Life!

Amen!

Why Poetry Can be About Anything

"Anything one does every day is important and imposing and anywhere one lives is interesting  and beautiful." - Gertrude Stine

Confession Tuesday - stalking death edition

To the confessional....

Dear reader:

Tuesday night and I've just got home a short while ago. It's been a long-long week since my last confession and I'm ready to get this over with so I can put it behind me and move on and unwind tonight.

My wife used to talk about driving a fast 45 MPH  or a slow 45 MPH. But 45 is 45 right? I guess it's kind of like time. Twenty-four hours is twenty-four hours and yet some days seem like an eternity, and extrapolated a week of those kind of days are like, a week of eternities. My mother-in-law decided to stop dialysis recently and of course the result of that is that the body will finally shut down, death becomes imminent. Her decision has dictated much of the past ten days or so.  My wife has been dutifully at here bedside some of every day. In many instances spending the night with her. I've watched her (my wife) attempt to find some degree of normalcy each day where there is nothing normal. I know this is far more difficult for her then myself, but I confess it's not easy to watch my wife go through this with her.

There have been several times that we thought, or someone would convinces us that it was her time.  Her time has really been taking it's time. I got a call from her today at work and rushed home to run her out there. She had not planned to go out till tonight but they called from the care facility to tell us they though the family should come out. On of here brothers had been there all day and they had been in touch throughout the day.
Oh, and they said they were putting out refreshments for the family. Refreshments?  Really? I confess this seems a little circus like.

We went out and were joined by other family members. Honestly she looked pretty good. Her breathing pace has slowed but she was not breathing labored. She is in a sleep. Some occasional facial expression changes though not many. She once sort of squinted open her eyes. Cathy ended up staying the night (as she had planned) but she and I agree, Mom is not looking like tonight is the night.

There are aspects of our life that seem on hold. Only because of the uncertainty of the end time. Each day is another possibility. I know Cathy hopes it is sooner then later. She has at times asked me to pray that it comes soon. I confess that I feel uneasy with such prayers.

In the meantime, death (a subject that clearly takes me outside my comfort zone) seems to dominate my day and night and I have no control over it.

  

Submission Saturday

It's been a morning of submission. Normally I submissive to the publication Gods in the afternoon on Saturdays but I did a morning gig today and it feels good to have it over with.

One rejection letter so far this week. It was a journal I had not tried before.

I have a poem that I am nearly ready to move out of the draft garage this week and park it with the other work that I submit from.  I've got several    drafts that are keepers that are approaching that same nearly ready for prime time status but I don't like to push these along too fast as much as I'd like to.  I have I've always believed in that I've sent to several journals without success and I am thinking of messing around with it some more to see if I can get a new perspective on it before I send it out again.

Confession Tuesday - petty anger edition

Dear Reader:

I confess that I did  not confess last Tuesday and I don't remember for sure why - except that it has been a crazy time these past  week to 10 days and if I would pick most any night last week I could tell you with certainty I was exhausted and on low function by the time I got home most evenings.

I finished off a journal, switched out the copy with a refill from my journal binder yesterday. I confess a brand new journal refill always leaves me feeling fresh and hopeful. I'm weird that way. I guess my hope is that the new journal will have smoother flowing hand writing, less crossed out or scribbled things, and perhaps more interesting writing in it. See how naive I can be?

Sooner or later it was bound to happen... I fell off the NaPoWriMo wagon this week. THIS is why I don't like doing it. This is the same reason I dislike New Years resolutions. What part of doomed do people (me) not get?  I am however going to move forward writing a poem today and hope that over the next week I can catch up and finish out the month with 30 poem drafts. No promises though...

This morning my wife dropped me off at work and kept the car so that she could drive out an check o her mother in the nursing home. I saw that someone was in my designated parking spot in the lot. I have to tell you that I was angry about this, even though I was not going to need the spot today. Sitting at my desk, I was fuming about it until I started feeling petty about it. Then I confess that I rationalized that the driver (who has been warned this is designated parking) had no idea that I would not be driving today and still had the nerve to take the spot. But then I felt petty again.

The Tax Culture & Finding a Little Happiness

I did my taxes last night. The past two years I've gotten them done early but the important thing is they are finished and filed two days before the deadline. It's that deadline that I'm writing about today.

April 15th is a day the tends to resonate in the mind of Americans. It's a date that's particularly memorable to us. Ask a married couple what day he/or she proposed and they often won't know right off. What day is Tax Day? April 15. Bang... right away they know the answer.

In American culture taxes have become tied to death as two things you can't get out of. It's no wonder April 15 has become such a dreaded but easily remembered day. In recent years various businesses have played on this trying to evoke some cheer and pleasure in the lives of ordinary people by offering give-a-ways... food and other items of cheer.

This year I've searched for some of the Tax Day Perks and found some interesting things.

• Between 6PM and 8PM stop by participating Cinnabon  bakeries and get free Cinnabon bites.  A little sweet to make you smile. 
• Arby's offers curly fries & potato cakes all day Tax Day with coupon. This is their third annual give-a-way & what's better on such a day then comfort food? 
• Office Depot will do up to 5 lbs of shredding for free with coupon on Tax Day
• Get a Tax Day Rib-bate for 2 for $10.40 
• White Castle - 15% off entire purchase on Tax Day with coupon.
• Free HydroMassage on Tax Day through April 19 with  coupon..
• Sorry, this was for early filers but In LA and San Francisco you could get a "brand new" Trojan Vibrator while supplies last on Thursday and Friday. (Glad they were new). Anyway, this stimulus package may be the most innovative yet.  

So if you are feeling blue, and your pockets are now empty, you can find a few ways to pick yourself up after you've paid your taxes. 

Thought for the Day

The folly of mistaking a paradox for a discovery, a metaphor for a proof, a torrent of verbiage for a spring of capital truths, and oneself for an oracle, is inborn in us. ~ Paul Valery

Heard any good Metaphors?

"Metaphor sleeps around." ~ Alfred Corn