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    • Jan

    28

    Girls Who Wander into the Temple Wilds

    Filed Under being creative, new things, poetry | Leave a Comment

    My thoughts today are scattered four ways to the wind … as I prepare for class in a few hours.

    In ancient Greece
    it was custom to send a girl child -
    when she was six years old -
    into the wilderness that
    began on the outskirts of the city
    not naked, but draped in the skins of dead animals
    the girl would live there
    foraging for food
    and living as any young beast
    without a parent
    to protect it
    after one year she would be found again
    brought home,
    prepared for marriage
    and by the age of twelve, she would
    meet her next great test -
    surviving childbirth.

    Feeling Overwhelmed - Some days I want a thick iron door, twenty feet high, to slam shut on all new ideas and “thoughts to ponder.” But then, I go and open all the windows in the house.

    Other People - When people tell me I’m going to turn into a mean bitch, that makes me feel mean and bitchy.

    Weight - Vanity must be tied to regret; I fuss more about my waistline now than ever because, I suppose, it was never as small as I wanted it to be.

    And Lastly - Artemis was the lady of wild things.

    Popularity: 24% [?]

    Nov

    5

    Thoughts on Reincarnation & Judgment

    Filed Under being creative, poetry, questions | Leave a Comment

    Some say that when you die and face the One God,
    your whole life is played before you like a film on fast forward.
    I wonder, if we died again and again and again
    one ineffectual life after the next
    would God get bored
    and just shoo us off to heaven early
    assuming that existence so dull
    was hell enough.

    Or would He sleep through the whole playback
    rubbing his face awake at the end
    out of sorts
    and wave us through the gates
    of whichever
    given what He last remembered.

    Popularity: 11% [?]

    Aug

    23

    Last Night in the Poetry Section

    Filed Under being creative, poetry, questions, quotes, small happinesses | 3 Comments

    Low Fence at Keystone, 2007The DH and I walked over to Borders last night after a late dinner. He lost himself in a debate between Bertrand Russell and Father Copleston while I headed over to the poetry section.

    After half an hour, I kicked myself for leaving at home my orange poetry notebook; it’s where I keep excerpts from poems I like, and reminders of poems and poets to read more of. In fact, I was in the unusual predicament of possessing ZERO notebooks on me and zero pens - so I couldn’t write down anything.

    So I attempted something crazy: remembering the names of the poems I loved the most.

    God must be a poet because, miraculously, when I woke up this morning, I was able to remember the three poems I liked so much last night. They were:

    The lines from Courage that read:

    If your buddy saved you
    and died himself in so doing,
    then his courage was not courage,
    it was love; love as simple as shaving soap.

    caused me to wonder about the way that war and fighting is sold to us as a demonstration of courage. We fight or we strive for victory because we are brave. Sometimes, we’re told, what we can look forward to is camaraderie or brotherhood. But I don’t recall ever hearing it referred to as love. Don’t men die for love, too?

    Then again, maybe love just doesn’t work as a motivating cry to kill other people.

    Roethke’s line, “What’s madness but nobility of soul/At odds with circumstance?” sounds faintly familiar. Apparently it’s a famous poem, so probably I’ve seen it quoted and didn’t understand that it was a reference.

    As for “Habitation,” it’s the second Atwood poem I’ve read, and the second I’ve loved; the first, “Girl Without Hands” is obliquely alluded to here in my description of God (which is still true, by the way). Maybe I will read Habitation at our wedding; maybe not.

    Popularity: 28% [?]

    Aug

    21

    A Poetry A Day

    Filed Under being creative, books, inspiration, local, movies, poetry, quotes, small happinesses | 1 Comment

    Poetry every day this week:

    Last night the DH and I had a few hours to kill before our movie (Sunshine) began, so we went to Powell’s Books. I spotted a $9 copy of Writing the World, a book about William Stafford’s poetry. On the first page of the Introduction is the poem from which the title came:

    In the stillness around me that no one can cross
    I am writing for life.
    The world like a leaf turns as it falls.

    Those first three lines have been revolving in my head all night, even as I slept.  I also picked up two books by Stafford himself, The Answers are Inside the Mountains: Meditations on the Writing Life, and a collection of poems, Even in Quiet Places.  The only book of Stafford’s that I owned before is Every War Has Two Losers, which was how I became introduced to him.

    Earlier in the week, while cleaning at my old house, I found a deck of Poet’s Corner Knowledge Cards. Over the next few days, I read through them, setting aside the cards that interested me the most. So now I have it in my notes to read (more) Edna St. Vincent Millay, “Visits to St. Elizabeth’s” by Elizabeth Bishop, Yeats’ “The Second Coming,” the works of Harlem Renaissance poet Claude McKay, and Rilke’s Duino Elegies.

    While at Powell’s I was very tempted to get some of those works, but decided against it. I can still hear Robert Fritz’s suggestion to focus on one thing at a time. That is very hard for me to do, but necessary for long-term sanity.

    This morning when I woke up, I prepared myself a Medifast chai latte, loaded the dishwasher, and then sat down to write my “three pages.” After this, I read through my favorite poetry cards again, wrote two poems, re-read sections of Writing for Life, and THEN I pulled out the laptop.

    And the first UU blog I read is MoxieLife - where today’s subject is a poetry contest! There is even a prize - a copy of The Practice of Poetry. The challenge is:

    Write a poem that introduces a family member and a superhero. Of course, this is an imaginary encounter, but because you know your family so well the poem can be rich in reality. There aren’t any other rules except I think it is fun to use either my most repressed relative or my most flamboyant. It also works well to have this be a rather long poem of 20 - 30 lines but that isn’t necessary and there is no particular form of verse ether.

    If you are so inclined, join the contest! It will be fun. Hopefully later sometime today I’ll be able to squeeze a poem out. One thing the poetry workshop I attended earlier this month taught me is that to write a poem is no big thing. You can do it any time of day, and it doesn’t even have to be finished. You just have to do it. It may not be good, but at least you’ve done it. You can’t write a good poem if you don’t write anything at all.

    Popularity: 27% [?]

    Aug

    9

    First Open Mic

    Filed Under being creative, lil things, local, new things, poetry, small happinesses | 6 Comments

    Wow! This evening I went to an open mic poetry event at a local, independent bookstore. Somehow I found the courage to go up and read two poems! It was a great turnout for such a little place, and there was an eclectic mix of poets, ranging in age from age 7 into their 70s. The featured, professional poet was a guy named Dan Rafael. He is really good! I bought his latest (#15?) chapbook for $6. He’s performed all over the place, including at Wordstock.

    Unfortunately, I don’t have a lot of poetry to read. About 10 years ago (closer to 12) I “put aside” writing (especially poetry), figuring I needed to live a little in order to have anything to say. I’ve only been able to find about four or five poems written in the last decade, so I’ve got a lot of fresh pages to fill with new words.

    Last week I attended a poetry workshop at the library and there I met a bunch of new folks who love poetry. No pretensions. Just so-called ordinary people who want to get together and write together. I wrote two poems at that meeting! One of which I finished.

    We had a mini open mic last night at the library and then there was this “real” open mic at the bookstore. The guy who coordinates it is a creative writing teacher at the local community college; just like the coordinator of the workshops at the library, he is sincere and welcoming.

    I was so nervous! My turn was number 16 on the list. I tried to focus on the people in the room and not on what I was about to do! Got up to the mic, couldn’t look at anybody. My voice wavered throughout. When it was over - whew! I was shaking! But now that it’s over I want to do it again. Listening to other people’s poems was more interesting for my mind, but standing up there in front of everyone was an emotional event!

    I read my old poem (1995) Markers, and a newer poem that has no title; the first is about growing out of adolescence, and the second is about my depression separating me from the DH. As we were leaving the bookstore, this one young guy smoking outside with the other youth in black clothes told me that the line about the light and the ocean (in poem 2) made him say YES! And it was “f—ing rad.”

    Squee! But now I’ve got to write more poems. Tonight, Michael and I are celebrating my bravery with plum sake and waffles with whipped cream.

    Popularity: 22% [?]

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