weekend post

Hi all, just a quick post before embarking on a weekend of writing and knitting. It seems to me that I am like the last cell in a dying body here, with not too many folks responding or posting. Please get out the word that this is a good place to talk about poetry, a good place to TRY some poems and to express whatever is on your minds having to do with writing as art, as healing, as balm for the weak and weary world. 

Here is a prompt for the weekend:

Face, over-wintered by ___________, she sags into

Here is mine (this is a draft, done on the fly, so not so great at this point):

Mae's Rest

Face over-wintered by age, she sags into the chair

Elmer fashioned out of birdseye maple, the year they married. Its cushion 

is bare and shiny, the imprint of her permanent now. Here she nursed

four babies, loved them back from fevers and measles. The rockers 

squeak like her bones as she settles to rest in the greying afternoon. 

Ice clicks along the window, slipping to the ground and shattering, 

as she will one day.  In the moment before sleep soothes her, she sees faces 

and formsall around her: parents, husband, the babe that did not survive

his first winter. It would be so easy to go where they are, to click down the pane 

and settle to the ground. A whistle in the distance: tea is ready on the stove.  

Poem from this weeks' prompt 01/29/09

Rue the Day the Story Ends, the Needles Grow Still

In the corner of my kitchen, a rumble

of the floor beneath me. Shudders,

a slight tremor come from the furnace

below, reminding me it's cold outside,

but giving me comfort. I am warm. thick socks

I knit myself wrap my ankles, a shawl

Nana crocheted over fifty years ago

warms my shoulders. It is a parable

that runs in my head like a serial: woolen

goods, hand-made and passed

from grandmother to  mother to daughter.

On and on, the yarn twines and binds us.

We wind the wool, slip it through our fingers,

needles flying until soft things bend to our work,

emerge with our stories woven in, our lives stitched.

Thoughts on poetry

What are your thoughts on the following topic in poetry:

the poet behind the persona

Here's what I have been thinking for awhile now: It seems to me that first person poetry has been frowned upon and labeled as confessional, personal, self-obsessed, self-glorifying, etc. I have certainly read poems that fit these labels. We all have. BUT, there is another side to this and a side I think bears discussing. Why do poets need to hide behind some idea of anonymity? If indeed we write to explore how we see the world, how we experience what the world offers etc., we ought to be able to be a bit overt about it. I am not saying that we need to give ourselves over to ruminating about our individual lives in such a way as the reader will feel he/she is intruding when reading our poems. What I am suggesting is that there are universals, places where our lives touch. We need to share those points of touch in order to feel less alone, more empowered, and to know that the human species is made up of the sum of its parts. I know that poems written with a "this happened, then this happened, and this is how I feel about that" modality miss the mark tremendously, and seem to actually exclude the readers rather than to draw them in. I read these and ask "I should care about this?" HOWEVER, these are not so much poems as they are lineated prose or worse yet, journal entries or things best shared only with family. But something as seemingly intimate as Dorianne Laux's beautiful maternal musings in Girl in the Doorway is far far far from too personal or too confessional. We can BE THERE in the house as the persona experiences the oncoming "loss" of a daughter's growing up. We don;t even need to be parents, or to have daughters. We are THERE. It is the embodiment of the event that connects us all. Yes, the poem's event is very personal. But we are brought in so that our own lives are enriched by the poet allowing us to peek, to consider, to weigh in on the universal subjects of family and loss. 

What I think then, is that our task as poets is to write in such a way as to be the poet behind the persona. We can put our lives, our very intimate lives, on the page while making sure that the poem drives itself by way of solid imagery and a sense of inclusion. 

On the other side of this coin, I get frustrated when reading some of my poems in a public venue that some listeners ASSUME the persona is me. What good poets do (I think) is to take a view of and a stance on what happens to and for others and comment in an intimate way through their poems.  What is this idea that all we write about is what we live personally? The problem then is do we allow ourselves to write widely, making sure we don't assume cultural postures that are false? Or do we stick to what we can touch, see, smell, taste, etc.? I would not presume to attempt to write poems from another culture, for example. BUT, I do think I can write with authority on topics of interest that I have sufficiently researched and come to know deeply. It's a puzzle. What to do here? Do I have to be a victim of robbery to write from the perspective of one who has been robbed? I don't think so. I can "empathize" in my poems and put my heart and mind into the scene, coming up with my own "take" on what that would be like. I can create a "character" (persona) and be in his/her head while recovering from the event. We are all alike enough to have experienced feelings of being overpowered, being violated, feeling helpless.  So, I think that we can, VERY CAREFULLY tiptoe into others' lives and make poems. I like the idea that we are all connected. We live the same lives really, flavored and shaded uniquely, but connected.

I 'd appreciate hearing from you on this.

Well, bloggers, it seems as if I am in here  with so much to say that nothing is coming forth. I want to post a new prompt for all of us to try, and to urge you to recommend the blog to other poets. It is easy to blog on this spot by simply signing on. You don't have to create your own site to blog here. But it is helpful if you are responding to a post, better than sending me an email with your try at the prompts. The whole idea of a blog is to SHARE. It is not about me here. It is about all of us sharing what we love. So, get on as a follower, subscribe to the blog (doesn't cost a thing!) and start blogging about poetry. I am going to start a topic today and would love to hear from all of you.

AND... as promised... here is the prompt for this week:

Using some or all of the following words (bend, parable, rue, grasp, tremor, furnace) write a poem in any style with the following starter:

In the corner of the kitchen ....

(NOTE: you can substitute any room or place where there is a corner)

knitting, and a prompt

Right now I am wearing (for the first time) the fingerless mittens I knitted. What a difference they make in working on the computer without my hands getting cold. I can type and be dextrous without a chill! Wonder of wonders!

So, thinking of hands, here is a new prompt:

It is a flurry of hands that she recalls

Try this as either a beginning line or an ending phrase of a poem. Go wherever the phrase takes you!

The Artist Has Laid Down

The Artist Has Laid Down His Brush and is Done

                          for Betsy Wyeth  (after "The Conch Shell")

The same curtains blowing at the window, the same

wallpaper, but peeling a bit now, faded and water-stained.

The conch shell, empty as his chair, blows the same sea across

the cove of your ear as you lift it to your head like before.

Bring home the gulls to your roof with a long low whistle

from the conch, bring neighbors with casseroles, bring

the dog from his lapping the melt of ice in the dooryard.

Bring your same fingers to draw the curtains aside.

Step through each room, their creaking floors like old bones

careful and slow. Watch the leaves of his sketchbook ruffle

in the breath of the open window as if he's thumbing

them, deciding which drawing or sketch wants paint today.

The same scenes are never to be the same without his careful eye.

The conch will go silent, the chair unmoved and dusty.

Somehow a shaft of sudden sun slanting the floor won't be

the same kind of light as he saw. Even the dog will not snore the same.

People will call and ask of you now that the artist has laid down

his brush and is done. You won't answer because you are not the same

as you were just yesterday. They will ask for some small memory

of your time with him and you will say the wallpaper holds all his secrets.

A loss to the world of art; Andrew Wyeth dies at age 91

I am feeling the sad loss of artist Andrew Wyeth, who passed away on my birthday at the age of 91. His paintings have inspired many of my recent poems (the past three years of poems). I visited the Farnsworth Art Museum today and was thrilled to see so many of his earlier works which are lush with color and depth of meaning for me as poet. I was particularly captivated by "Conch Shell," which he painted in 1944 I think. I had my trusty notebook with me (of course) and penned the draft a poem imagining the painting to be emblematic of the emptiness his death visits on his family and all of us who admire and are influenced by his work. Perhaps this week we might write something about loss or write some ekphrastic poem, that is a poem inspired by a piece of art that we encounter. 

Weekly prompt 01/15/09

I've been thinking about temperatures as outside gets colder and colder by the hour, and consider that is might be a good time to visit our thoughts on this. So, how about the following:

Using the words below (all of some), write a poem about cold without it being about weather.

bitter, magic, left, solid, machine, logo, pewter, floor, odor, mouth

Now go ahead.. you know you want to.... go on.... you can do it.... write! you might choose to write a sonnet, or a pantoum, or just five stanzas that each use two of the words. Or you might choose ten lines, each with one of the words. 

Here is a starter line to use if you are stuck:

I barely remember the magic

My birthday

OK, so tomorrow I am 62. I have already signed up for SS and will get my first check in March. I decided to take early SS as there is not a way I am going to increase things through my minute job at Taft College. 

But I have bigger and tastier fish to broil (frying not healthy right so the metaphor has to be altered to fit a healthier lifestyle!). I have just purged the piles and piles of junk that magically appeared while I was teaching Comp. I can see all areas clearly and things seem neat and organized. THAT frees me up to spend time submitting my manuscript and a few poems individually as well. Ahhhh, I love winter. It is a great time of folding in and expanding outward with creative pursuits.

I will say that I have not been without some successes in the literary world even while teaching. Two journals based in Connecticut have taken poems for upcoming issues: Dogwood let me know that one of my poems was in the top 12 finalists for the Dogwood Prize and they will publish the poem. CT Review has also taken a poem for either Fall '09 or Spring '10. Both of these wonderful journals are university-based and I am pleased to say the least. Pleased too because they took poems I absolutely love. I am happy these have found homes!

So, now it is about writing more and enjoying the time I have to write. I love the process of writing, but even more I love the editing and revision that happens AFTER the bones are erect on the poems. It is a bit like playing paper dolls, finding the right clothes and hair styles and making her as lovely and fascinating as possible! Wow! WHERE did that metaphor come from? My childhood is apparently alive and well in the recesses of my mind!

I have also been lucky enough to land a class in the adult ed of the local school system. I will teach on Wednesdays for 4 weeks. My class will cover writing locally, finding poems in "where you live."  I look forward to this and have my materials all ready to go for the first class which is Feb 25th. 

So despite the bitter cold (it is a hefty ZERO right now), I am warmed as always by poetry. 

please encourage followers here

Poets and fans! Please send the address of this blog to any poets you know who might be interested. Tell them they can post poems here too by posting a "comment" or by doing a "new post."

I want this to grow!

Winter poem 01/09

Knitted Mittens

Luscious in violet, warm wooled

hands for covering the cold,

they beckon. Slip on the right first,

then the left will be a treasure. But not

these mittens, made for two

amputees, both rights without lefts.

So what of the others, the ones who lost

their rights and wander the snow

fields looking for limbs that fell

in the night? Has someone knit for them?

It's cold here, but poems make me warm

Well, before heading off to snuggle under the covers, I thought to take a moment to write some thoughts on writing. I went to the Farnsworth Art Museum here today and spent a bit of time in the galleries. In particular I visited the Louise Nevelson exhibit again. I am amazed by her art, but not that for which she is most famed (the sculptures). I love her paintings of people, especially of women. I am so inspired by them. So there I was with my ever-present notebook and a pen. time few by. I made TONS of notes and actually have the bones of a new poem. I also (SHOCK!) have some ideas for a short story. Well, those of you who know me well will be laughing right now and thinking to yourselves "somehow this story will end up a poem!" Maybe, maybe not. Only time will tell. But for now, I am happily in my own head writing the draft of today's poem. That is how it begins for me... in my head for several drafts and then it falls out onto the page or screen and the REAL work starts. Let's talk about PROCESS. If you're up to it, write a response about how YOU get going on a creative project. (Non-poets, contribute what revs you up in any creative projects). Let's blog! Don't make me the only one who writes here! 

Carol

2009

Good New Year all! It is wicked cold here in Maine today, temps sunken to single digits and wind chill way way down. But a warm heart can cure a cold wind, so we are cozy here. I wrote the last poem of '08 and was finished with it at 11PM, leaving me time to watch the ball drop on Times Square. Seemed as if not so many folks braved the cold to be there in person this year. I prefer the tv version of being there. 

I am getting started on the first poem of  '09 as I am ready to watch the Rose Bowl. Of course I am rooting for the USC Trojans, but I root alone in my family. Everyone else will root for Penn State. I don't mind going solo on this!

Well, I will be posting the last/first poems tomorrow. Be warned: they are drafts. I usually wait several days or longer before beginning the revision process --- after a healthy "distance" is achieved!

Good words to all for 2009!

End of the Year 2008

Poets, and Lovers of Poets,

Here we go, off on our 2009 adventure. I hope that things begin to get better in the world, but the events of the past few days are a grim reminder that not everyone is seeking peace. [I am not assigning blame here as I have dear ones on both sides of that barrier] But I grow weary of the not getting along, the not seeing peace and seeing it is its own reward. Of course it is great material for poems (strife, fighting, killing), but to the end where violence only begets more violence is seemingly eluding some folks. ENOUGH is what I say! On with more poetry.

I am always a bit excited and filled with fear when the eve of another year shows up. For the past 12 years (this will be 13), I have taken up the project to write the final poem of the year on New Year's Eve (late at night usually). I do this before champagne is popped, before tucking myself in a warm bed to snuggle my husband. I then feel somehow that the year is "done" for me. The other half of the project is after midnight (usually within an hour or two but sometimes after breakfast) when I write the first poem of the new year. What always has amazed me is that the two poems, sometimes written within an hour of each other (OK--- so they're drafts!!) are so far removed from one another in subject or tone or style. It is like I am a new me when I write the second poem. Wonder how that happens????

So, now I have a chapbook number of these poems (will as of tonight/tomorrow). So I think I ought to send these out in 2009, organized and titled. Great! ANOTHER project. LOL

Well, off to the kitchen to get ready for dinner guests. We are doing dinner at six and the guests will be done and gone by 9 pm. Then it's me in my office and my hubby snoozing in the New Year. Isn't life grand?!

Happy New Year everyone. Peace is my wish for you and all.

it's good to be writing again

I swear I get so grumpy when I am distracted from the writing. I am making a NY resolution to write every day as I was doing before teaching took over my life.

my head is busy

Poets and Friends,

My head is busy with plans for my time off from teaching. AFTER I clean the clutter in my office I have a number of submissions to do and will take a final pass at the book manuscript. I have so many notes to myself for doing this. And of course there is the jumble of work running around in notebooks. There is always that. 

Re: the manuscript, I am toying with 3 sections that can stand alone as chapbooks. So each section of the manuscript will have its own title and focus. I have fussed and fussed for over a year after going to the Compleat (Colrain) manuscript conference as there were poems that I want in, but as they were arranged did not hang together that well. A year later sees the thing more focused. Way different in terms of what poems fit and several new poems. I have 5 places to send it, so hope one of those will see the layout as a good thing along with the poems themselves. One new-ish section is entitled "Breakfast at the Brass Compass" which will feature 20 poems about Maine. I am excited about that. The other two sections are Confessions of a Town Girl, and Naming Water. I am looking for a title for the collection. NO clues there yet. Maybe someone will read for me (volunteers?) and see a title that links all three sections.

Well, I am off to see a movie. Going to see The Curious Case of Benjamin Button. It is a 3 hour deal. Went to Bedtime Stories yesterday...good. Cute and not long. I recommend it. More later on  today's film.

Be well. WRITE.

one example of a poem using repetend...no great literary work, just an example

I am snowed under

with work, my desk piled 

with papers and notes 

to myself to clear  

a space for writing. Snow

is deceptive, piles

of it outside the window

make me sluggish for work.

I need to stop drifting

and plow through the mess

I made here over 10 weeks 

of teaching others about writing. 

Writing is what I say I do. 

I cannot regard others'

writing as more. I need to fall

back, drift away on the weather

that has been building in my head

and write what snow is doing outside.

Lesson of the week/repetend

Recently my friend Ellen and I attended a workshop in Belfast (Maine) on using repetend in poetry. While the idea was not new to me, it sparked a surge of "oh yeah, I like doing that." The idea is simple really: use of a word or phrase more than once in a single poem, or using a word or phrase to connect poems to each other in a sequence. It is a great way to create emphasis or linkage. I like the idea that one can repeat something very simple and seemingly small or unimportant and make it drive the poem to a new and more emphatic level. I also love the notion that one can link poems this way, making leaps and connections that were previously not happening. I am toying with doing this with a group of poems that might not at the moment fit together in a collection. Hmmmmm.

SO, here's the prompt of the week:

Write one or more short poems, using repetend as a strategy of emphasis. 

Semester is done YIPPEE!

I am thrilled that as of today I am off work until April. I hope to have more time to blog and to do some serious writing. I hope not to get sucked in to obsessively do housework. OK, so I have neglected a few dust bunnies. I am not ashamed to be feeding them as they are SO hungry. 

Well, I am off to eat dinner with my hubby (downstairs in the dining room!). He was outside most of the day snow blowing and will probably go to bed early. Then I will return and post a few snow photos! It is sure beginning to look a lot like Christmas!

Family news

Hi all! Here is an update on the family.

Katherine: busy busy busy... the school year is in full swing and that means she is over the moon with work. Still finds plenty of time for Scott and Christopher (a junior in high school and running x-country, doing mock trial, and very involved in church).   I am grateful for frequent calls to me. I love that she calls on her way home from work several days a week. Nice private Mom/Daughter time. Scott is busy with his job too and yet finds time to call regularly. His girls are living back with their mother, not the best thing for them or him, but there is nothing to be done about that at the moment. 

Kristin: busy busy busy... work as usual and she just went to a nursing conference in D.C. where she visited Arlington and the grave site of my parents. A sad moment to be sure. She called me from there and we had a bit of a "boo-hoo" together on the phone. She also took pictures of the newly-engraved niche cover. It has been fixed as to the date error of my mother's info and the Purple Heart is back (it had been omitted when her info was put on originally) Thanks Kris for letting me see it is fine now. Alexander is a senior and we are planning a trip to CA in June for his graduation. Justin at VVC for some general ed. stuff before deciding what to do about going back to NAU for upper division work.

Gina: busy busy busy... work and kids' activities and balancing too many of those. Kids are involved up to their ears in scouts (Jake) , water polo (Nick) and drama performances (Jennie)

Hubby Bill still playing music with his group and spending time with his kids when he can.

Erin: busy busy busy (see a theme emerging here?)... running around like a chicken with kids activities and taking care of a senior lady (Ann) and another woman's household (personal assistant?). Adam busy too with job at Microsoft (loves it and is doing great there!) Jozeph is doing so well in school and enjoyed playing kid football. Jenna Bee is her sweet self, enjoying first grade.

Richard: way busier than we want to know! His life is filled with job and managing the three boys and worrying about Yeya (his wife) who is having another cancer surgery. Prayers for these folks, please.

Lauren: busy busy busy... running around doing kid stuff with a very active three year old (almost) and taking care of Matt who is recouping from serious back surgery. He is chomping at the bit to get back to his job as fire captain. It must be bugging him to be home with all the fires to be fighting now in So California. Patience Matt! Alyssa (9) and Megan (7) are busy with school and Brownies/Girl Scouts as well as their other interests. Lauren's scrapbooking job ended when the store closed. She is getting her online scrapbooking business up soon. Watch for info on that.

Bill and I are busy too, getting the house ready for winter and preparing for a trip to the White Mts of NH and then to my sister's for Turkey Day. Soon it will snow, but so far the ground is just bare and the air is cold. Brrrr. But we love winter here. Way more than in CA.

Enough for now. What are YOU doing?