The Liquid Soul...

“How we need another soul to cling to, another body to keep us warm. To rest and trust; to give your soul in confidence: I need this, I need someone to pour myself into.”  -Sylvia Plath

Confession Tuesday - The Wednesday Edition

Dear Reader:

I realize it's Wednesday but let's just pretend for a moment it's Tuesday. I'm not asking you to to relive a work day for a second time, the Monday through Friday stretch is bad enough. Just allow me to back date my Confession Tuesday. Sort of like special dispensation.

Friends, it's been like 5 weeks since my last confession. This It's been a hot wet mess of a 5 weeks. While it's been cooler the past two days, rain remains in the forecast ahead. I confess I at done with it!

In the day before my last confession I very excitedly ordered a book from a small press. I had discovered another really remarkable poetic voice and wanted to read their book. So that's been five weeks ago. Call me spoiled by Amazon two day shipping but I am really bummed out awaiting for the book five weeks later. I'm not going to name the press because I understand that many small presses are understaffed and we need to support these independent presses.  I'n not worried about getting the book. I have communicated with them by e-mail and I understand that is should be shipped this week. Sometimes it is just hard to contain the excitement when you discover another poet you want to read. There are some small presses out there I have had excellent experiences with. White Pine Press, Black Lawrence Press, Two Sylvias Press to name a few. I confess the best way to buy books is at a book table at AWP. You get to walk away with them, and if you are fortunate, you can get them signed. You can start the book before you leave on on the flight home.


There has been an aspect of these past couple of weeks that has been difficult. I mean more so than disappointment over the long wait for a certain book.

We lost a very special dog in our household. Klaus was a struggler and a survivor. He overcame so

much in the years he was with us, including paralysis.  He was my daily shadow and I miss him. On Saturday I confess that I lost it and broke down in tears. Saturdays I often was the only one here during the day and he stuck to me like glue. I was lost without him.

There are several triggers in the house that tend to make me think of him and I choke up.   It's going to be so hard without him.

The Advantage

“The essential advantage for a poet is not to have a beautiful world with which to deal; it is to be able to see beneath both beauty and ugliness; to see the boredom, and the horror, and the glory.” ~T.S. Eliot

Re-Inventing a Personal Touch

How long has it been since your actually wrote someone in long hand or for that matter received such a letter yourself?  I'm talking about a letter that traveled over some miles to be hand delivered to your address, not pushed through the Internet and popped out into your email inbox.  In other words, snail mail.

This week I read a Forbes article by Maggy Zhang titled From Robots and Emails To Handwritten Letters: Using Tech To Reverse Tech and was intrigued by an art project called Snail Mail My Email. As I have mentioned in one or more blog posts at some point in the past, I believe the demise if the written letter is in fact a negative consequence of modern technology.

To me, hand written letters are an art form. Hell, many youngsters are growing up without any handwriting skill at all. Our communications have progressed to less personal.  They have gone from fast written e-mail letters that arrive in an inbox with standardized fonts to the text message - again instantaneous transmission of 140 characters or less. I'm not saying these things have not had positive values, but they have certainly come as a price as they have all but bastardized written communication.

As I look at my  library of books of poetry poetics, biographies and other collected works on literature, I have a number of books that are archived letters from writers.  Right off the top of my head, I know that I have Letters Home - a compendium letters from Sylvia Plath, written mostly to her mother, Letters of Ted Hughes, The Letters of Allen Ginsberg, and Robert A. Heinlein: Grumbles From The Grave. In addition to these I've read volumes of letters from a number of other poets including Lowell and Sexton. It has always fascinated me the letter exchanges that  have occurred between poets of their time often on their craft but sometimes interesting snapshots of their lives as a whole. These books can provide a picture into the evolution of these poets and poetesses. We can begin to understand the path that has taken them to what they ultimately became. I feel like when I read one I am on an anthropological expedition.  I wonder what we as poets today are losing as a result of this decline interpersonal letter writing.

The Forbes article talks about two different off-shoots of societal divestment of personal writing. One is a company founded not long ago that offers the robotic ability to imitate a customers' signature so that handwritten notes can be generated at a fast speed. Bond is a for profit enterprise and  it's services would be more geared to mass customer correspondence.  The other off-shoot, the one I find most interesting is called Snail Mail My Email.  This was a projected started in 2011 by a gentleman in the advertising business who quit his job. He was tired of the massive amount of impersonal email that landed in his inbox daily. It started that he decided personally he would write more handwritten letters and then came his decision to help others do the same. Snail My Email  has become a volunteer organization of over 700 people who have collectively  written and sent over 23,500 letters around the world. In a nut shell, these people take emails, convert them to personally written notes and mail them to the intended recipient. Perfect strangers writing a letter for someone else to someone else.

I like this idea. But I'm pretty keen on letters.

Thought for the Week -

Art is the most passionate orgy within man's grasp. 

~ John Doone

Confession Tuesday - After all these years, it's still the car biting my ass.

Dear Reader:

It has been one week and one more wedding anniversary since my last confession.

It's actually been a lot of things.... another week of more rain than not, Another Poet Tarot Card Drawn - this one John Donne,  as well as a car repair completed and another one deeded.  Shall we get started...

Reader, I'm water logged. I've had it all the way up to the flippers that I have sprouted. I'm tired of the rain. I know I have complained about this for weeks - seems like months now. I confess I will say no more today about this, but you know what I'm thinking.

Yesterday was our 41st wedding anniversary. I confess that it both seems like a long time and not so long. I can't really explain how this can be, just trust me it can and it does. I confess that I feel very nostalgic for many things of our early marriage days. I confess that sometimes I wonder how we got where we are, but mostly I am amazed that given our very young  ages at marriage I confess  this is one of the best decisions I have made in life.

So this week I drew another Poet Tarot card from the deck. The result was the card for the poet John Donne. This Donne dude is an interesting character (but you could say that about so many poets). Father to 12 children penning erotic poems on one hand and later becoming an Anglican priest. He felt it important to follow one's inner convictions. How do I balance order and chaos in my life? Do I make rules about my creativity that box me in or do I allow room for expansion of rules. Do I give myself room to grow?

When we got married 41 years ago yesterday, I had just picked up my car from the shop the day before. I arrived with it at the church okay, however before the service was over it attempted to move the car in the Church lot and it would not start. We ended up leaving town with a loaner from the repair shop that afternoon.  I confess that the car problems revisited me yesterday - losing coolant (not a good thing) and the this after just putting new rear breaks on it. I can't win.

I confess that this wraps up my confession for this week. Until next week, stay safe and have a good life!

The Power of A Single Voice

A few Quotes on Fathers

A father is always making his baby into a little woman. And when she is a woman he turns her back again. - Enid Bagnold




I pressed my father's hand and told him I would protect his grave with my life. My father smiled and passed away to the spirit land. - Chief Joseph




When one has not had a good father, one must create one. -Friedrich Nietzsche

Confession Tuesday INFP Edition

Dear Reader:

I humbly come to you on Wednesday as opposed to Tuesday. But actually I believe it’s been two weeks since my last confession. Two more weeks of more rain than not. On NBA series that went down the tubes, some miscellaneous allergies, a new poetry book in the mail, another book finished and yet another started. A couple of new poem drafts, one of which I believe is close to being able to fly out into the world. With that out of the way, Let’s get started.

In 2005 I took one of the Myers & Briggs personality tests. (on a side note they always make me think of lawn mowers – you know, Briggs & Stratton engines, but I digress) The test 10 years ago confirmed basically the same results as one a couple years earlier.  My results pointed to being an ENFP.  That would be Extraversion, I(N)troversion, Feeling and Perceiving. This week I was curious and I too the test again. The results changed.

I confess that based on my most recent test I am no longer an extrovert but instead I am an introvert. How is this possible, you say? Well I don’t honestly have a conclusionary finding, but speculation. Incidentally the other three factors NFP remained the same from the first two tests. But here are some hunches:

·         When taking the test I would sometimes struggle with answers because there was often not a definitive answer. Example, with your lunch you always drink a Diet Coke. Answer Y/N.  Well I don’t always have a Diet Coke with lunch but I don’t always NOT have one. Fact is more often than not I have one. To answer Yes or No really would not be correct by yes would be more correct than no. So I choose yes.  Ten years ago I was still more involved in electoral politics that I have been presently. When in campaign mode I don’t really have a choice as to engaging with others or not.  So this has somewhat changed for me.  Even when I took this test the first time I was thinking to myself that I may well have a different personality under different circumstances. I believe this could account for such response.

·         In mentioning this to someone else who knows my writing history, she has pointed out that in particular, I have been writing over the past ten years. And in recent years even more than ever. Because of this, it was suggested that as I have become immersed in writing I have perhaps tended to turn more inward in my personality. I confess, this makes a lot of sense.

So you may be asking what is a INFP supposed to look like? A brief description I found looks like this:

1.       Primary mode of living is focused internally. This is where you deal with things according to how you feel about them or how they fit with your personal value system. Secondary modeis external and here, I take things primarily via my intuition.
2.        INFP types are more than any other types are focused on making the world a better place for people. Their primary goal is to find out their meaning in life. What is their purpose? How can they best serve humanity? They are idealists and perfectionists, who drive  themselves hard in their quest to achieve the goals they have identified.
3.        They are highly intuitive about people. Rely heavily upon intuition and use their discoveries to constantly search for value in life. There are on a mission to find truth and meaning.  Every encounter, every piece of knowledge gained gets sifted through their value system.
4.        They are generally thoughtful and considerate. Good listeners – can put people at ease, though sometimes reserved in expressing emotion, they are deeply caring.
5.        They do not like conflict and try hard to avoid it. If they must face it, they will always approach it from the perspective of their feelings. In conflict, they place little importance on who is right or wrong but on how the conflict makes them feel. This can a times make them seem irrational in conflict situations. They can make good mediators and do well at problem solving for others.
6.        They are flexible and laid back until one of their values is violated  They can become aggressive defenders and fight with passion for a cause.
7.        As to the mundane details of life maintenance, they are typically unaware of such things. They might go long periods of time without noticing a stain on the carpet. but brush a speck off a file they are working on.
8.       Don’t like dealing with hard facts and logic. Focus is on feelings and the Human Condition. Most will avoid impersonal analysis, though some have developed the ability to be quite logical.  Under stress it’s not uncommon for them to mis-use hard logic, especially when angry.
9.       They generally have high standards and are professionals and tend to be hard on themselves. Often do not give themselves credit. They may have problems working on projects in groups because of their standards and therefore have control issues.  They need to learn to balance high ideals with requirements for daily living otherwise they can become paralyzed or confused about what to do.
10.    .  They make talented writes. They may be awkward or uncomfortable at expressing themselves verbally but do well putting feelings on paper. They also frequently make good social service professionals like counselors and teachers.

I can see myself filling into much of this.

Are there anyone else out there who is an INFP that wants to share their thoughts about these characteristics?  Or For that matter are you another M & B type, what has the knowledge of your personality type meant for you? Has it ever caused you to attempt to compensate in one area or another? Has knowing you type helped you in life?  I confess that I find all this very interesting. 

Sunday Synopsis

I am aware that there are parts of this country desperately in need of rain. Honestly, we've had more that our share here and I'd love to share it with those who could really use it. Most parts of our metropolitan area have had between 11 and 12.5 inches of rain in the past 30 days. It rained again today.

I can honestly say that the rain and cloudy weather have taken a tole on me. There are other factors but I've felt a bit depressed this week and I can honestly say that  the dreariness is a contributing factor.

This afternoon I ventured out to attend a poetry group meeting in Northland. Shared poetry, our own and other works of interest. As often is the case, we conclude with a writing prompt that we work on and most will share their draft. I also tested a newer draft I brought along to test the waters. I would say that it stayed afloat.

Wouldn't you know it, on the way home the rain came through once again. Some times I feel like it's the same storm front doing circles. It's crazy.

I've been busy planing my submissions for the weeks ahead. Working on new material, and reading. Presently I'm reading, Why God is a Woman, by Nin Andrews.

I am discontinuing my Journal of Creative Exploration blog. This blog was based on my  exploring various elements of creativity and challenges of a creative life based on my  weekly use of the Poet Tarot Cards created by Two Sylvias Press. I continue to use them and will perhaps mention my usage periodically  here but not the sharing of a larger dedicated weekly post.

I did draw a new poet card today.  Marianne Moore is my card for this week. I'll be communing with her most likely about clarity of goals this week. I will acknowledge that  recent weeks have moved me in an area of procrastination - trying to organize a small  group to workshop our writing. The practical application of allowing yourself to be influenced by these cards really can be beneficial. If you are open to it, you can let them lead you into places that you are too fearful to tackle.

I'm feeling a little less dark already. Not that dark is a bad thing.

Sandra Beasley - Theories of Falling

While I was at AWP15 in April, it was my intent to pick up a book or two of Sandra Beasley's.  As it would happen, her books were sold out by the time I reached her table and as a result it became one of a couple I ordered upon return home from my money budgeted for books at the conference. I have finished it (I have an enormous stack of books I am reading through as a result of AWP)

This is not a new book, though she has a new one out - Count The Waves  which I hope to read soon.

 Here is my review of her book Theories of Falling

Sandra Beasley throws a parade in Theories of Falling; a parade to impress us with the many reasons not to love her.  The Allergy Girl, wasting away as an infant.  Her bloodstream equal to a Fisher Price workbench. The wheezing, rashes, the dangers of a tainted kiss.

Beasley’s book of poetry has a lingering quality that toys with you and requires that you pick it up again and again as if it were the antidote that saves you from something, perhaps boredom. She guarantees you can walk away from going over Niagara Falls if you do it just right. But warns you’ll just die in a poor house.

There is an intimate nature here, an uncovering of truth. As if she slowly peels back layers that we might see beneath the surface of our prescribed reality to find something altogether more real than we imagined. The poems collectively have an affluence of lyricism. The substance, the metaphor all come together nicely. There is nothing more you will want, except more of her work.

As for Beasley’s parade to dissuade our affection, she is indeed wasting the elephants and ticker tape, it isn't working.

Revisions, Organizing and Mixing it Up This Next Week.

I started this weekend Friday night dog sitting for my son. This lent itself well to getting some reading and writing done however Saturday we less productive. I was uncertain how my schedule would evolve so I use the time a little more loosely checking out some poetry stuff on You Tube.

Among other thing I listened to some You Tube material that featured Sandra Beasley. I have been reading Theories Of Falling and enjoying it immensely.  I've been aware of Beasley for a number of years  as reader of her blog Chicks Dig Poetry so she has been on my radar but I heard her read at AWP15 in April and that rejuvenated my interest in her work.

Of the You Tube video clips I listened to of Sandra Beasley, the workshop she did on April 15 of this year - there were a number of things that stuck with me. However, none quite as much as her comments on revision.

"There are many talented people who can write great first drafts. The people who will become poets are the ones who fall in love with revision."  Sandra adds that she is not one who can do great first drafts. She says she was not the best in her undergraduate class, but adds that she is here today because of revisions and that she has a determination to stay with the process.

There is no question in my mind that Sandra Beasley is doing something right. She is after all writing full time these days and has a number of honors and awards that she can claim. Aside from all that, as impressive as it may be, her work resonates with me. She is one a number of poets that are inspiring to me as a writer.

In addition to this, I have begun this past week to be a better organized poet practitioner.  Planning is something  that I often wish I as better at and I am trying now to make that a reality. So I am busy plotting out plans, deadlines, goals today. All this in an effort to be better at my writing. To produce poetry that I am significantly more satisfied with.

And it is Sunday...  So today, I have drawn another Poet Tarot Card from the deck and as it is, I will be answering to the Two of Quills this week.  So, it is my task this week to look for ways to challenge my established routines. Try writing in other locations. Write at different times. Disrupt the usual. Establish new niches. Write at a coffee shop. Write at different times in the day. Stretch my writing mussels by exercising/executing my creativity differently.

This week I will trace some of those things I approach differently and reflect upon changes and what impact they have on my poetry, positively or negatively as the case may be.

On thing I know I will be paying more attention to is revising work.

Confession Tuesday - Water Water Everywhere Edition

Dear Reader:

It’s been a week since my last confession. The Rhyme of the Ancient Mariner has nothing on us.

Yes, I confess the rain continues to annoy. Did I say annoy? I’m not sure that is strong enough language. Seattle? Portland? Are you guys missing some rain? We’ll send it back.

I confess that I got on an organizing kick this past week and designed a single page weekly plan sheet to help me stay focused and do what I need to do where my writing and writerly related functions are concerned. It’s in a PDF format, nothing elaborate but it helps me plan things out and then I am able to transfer everything to my planner on my tablet. It’s sort of a Capricorn thing to do.

Summer is coming, June 21^st – just weeks away. I’ve been thinking that it’s about time

for me to do another annual Poet Crush List. The only problem is that right now I am into so many good poets that I confess this year it’s going to be hard to do a 10 poet list.  

This is something I will have to contemplate in the next couple of weeks.

It has occurred to me that our Public Library system has not had any poets in to do readings for a while. They used to be so good about this. I confess that I feel obliged to make some calls and see if anything is in the works or if they could be encouraged to start planning some events for later this year.

That’s about it for this week folks. Stay safe, wear your life jacket. Pray the rain gives us a break.

In the event that you have been sleeping under a rock.... Or from the I case you missed this department

During this past week Kelli Russell Agodon got a lot of traction with an article she wrote that appeared in Medium. The piece was titled, Submit Like A Man: How Women Writers Can Be More Successful. If by some chance you have not read it by now I recommend it. It has sparked significant re-tweets and discussion since appearing.  Kelli discusses her experiences as an editor and a realization that often men and women writers respond differently to rejections letters that indicating the editor would like to see more of their work. Regardless of your gender, if you are timid about your approach to submitting your work to journals I suggest this article is worth reading. As is so often the case, Kelli is a very excellent steward of her writing knowledge and experiences. She embodies the best example of literary stewardship.

How We View The World...

"I was made at right angles to the world and I see it so. I can only see it so." - Elizabeth Bishop

Confession Tuesday: Self-Conscious Edition

Dear Reader:

It has been two weeks since my last Confession. One week in which I fought the intermittent rains to get both front and back jungles mowed. And a second week that has been more akin to nearly non-stop rain save today. I feel a bit like I've been uprooted to Seattle or Portland.

So, I have to confess that I've been particularly self-conscious this week. I hate when I get the impression that everyone is judging me or that  everything that isn't going right is in fact going wrong on my own personal accord, and yes, everyone knows this. That further, if I feel I am being ignored, (which is likely all in my head) I am convinced it is because of something I did or did not do.

I confess that I am not as bad about this as I once was. Still, it creeps into my psyche and takes up residency. Hell, sometimes it throws a party for other self-conscious souls!

It is at times like this that I'm convinced that people are thinking about me way more than I have any reason to believe. Any little reason I can think of that I might have done something wrong or offended someone, I will manifest from this that I'm being avoided or ignored completely without any foundation of evidence to back it up. Logic plays no role whatsoever. This will likely continue a few more days until I finally kick these squatter thoughts out of my head.

On a lesser note, I confess that I am anxious to finish my current journal refill so that I can start fresh with a new clean one. I already have it on hand.

So there you have my secrets - spilled out for you this week.  Everyone be safe and enjoy your week ahead come rain or shine!


Don't think. Thinking is the enemy of creativity. It's self-conscious, and anything self-conscious is lousy. You can't try to do things. You simply must do things. ~ Ray Bradbury

Dream Big

"The armored cars of dreams, contrived to let us do so many a dangerous thing." ~Elizabeth Bishop

This week I drew Elizabeth Bishop - Queen of Quills for the Poet Tarot deck for my guidance throughout this week. Bishop is a tough person to rely on for guidance. She was such perfectionist when it came to her work. Perhaps the lesson is write lots. Rewrite lots. When submitting,  keep that standard for what is sent out  high. 

Coin Operated Poems - A Review

In this latest collection of poetry, Mary Biddinger longingly delves on that shrinking view through the rear view mirror.  A Sunny Place with Adequate Water is a land we come to inhabit

within the pages of this book, and while there, Biddinger successfully shares a unique vision that while surreal, seems vaguely familiar as if we've experienced some of these things and as for the others, we only wish we had.

The nostalgia of small town America is all here. We see an old order, but an often reinvented one as well. There is a coin operated apple pie, and a coin operated engine finds its steam. A Parlor, a diary, a paramour and a half, so many things relying on coins that buy next to nothing today.

These poems are tidy. The language and the images Biddinger employs have an old shoe comfort. Yes, including magnets and their unreasonable behaviors and the homeless man with a sign that read PREMIUM.

I've come to both enjoy and respect Biddinger’s writing and she continues to amaze me. I felt she took some risks with this collection. I believe they are ones that worked.  This book is an enjoyable read. 

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...