Tweet.

I've never done this before (and won't really be able to do it tonight) but there is a poetry party tonight at 6 (9 Eastern) here.  You can tweet your own lines or just sit back and read some interesting ideas.  I'll be interested to see what it's like.  More tomorrow.

The Weight

They walk with the weight of the world
on their feet
the weight of the world
pressing against the soles
of their souls
the weight of the world
they’re tired of waiting
the waiting
the waiting
the wait of the world
for the bus
with a sigh of the times
they board their bus
a sigh of the times
they sit back
as far back as possible
and time begins to fly
for everyone else in the world
except them
the weight of the world
pressing against the thin plush seats

Simile, you're on JTV...

I was working with a fourth grade class yesterday and they were learning about similes. Though I'm thrilled they are learning the basics, I was a little disappointed with the lack of imagination, and the lack of encouragement or inspiration they received. All the examples were pretty obvious and cliche. It reminded me of how powerful a good simile can be, and how I don't use it enough. today's fog was thick like cafeteria gravy the kind that you might lose a kid in...

I once was found...

I once was found but now am lost was fine, but now I see a prodigal son reunited only to find I was switched at birth with an Imam from Detroit so certain my of destiny only to lose reception in the spiritual bay bridge-tunnel. I see people around me fain confidence and then crack, I wonder why being confused is so socially distasteful? When I grow up I want to do something that pays very little and requires very few teachable skills. And I want to be the best at it. I don't even know how to know the things I need to know to know the one who puts these lines in my head.

Occupy what now?

Wondering about Occupy Wall Street?  Like, what are those people looking for?  Yeah, me too.  Seems like there is a lot of potential, but I just can't figure out what they want.

Today they released a 400+ page Poetry Anthology, here, and since I didn't really have time to read the whole thing, I made this word cloud from the text.  I was excited about the idea, but I was a little sad about how little it really says.  they "like, just want the world back".  There ya go.

A Translation

I've been wanting to try my hand at translating for a while, and I couldn't pass this one up. 

This is a song, from sort of a rap-reggaeton group called Calle-13, is about being Latin American, and I love some of the imagery.  It still sounds better in Spanish, but I like the way it came out in English too.

Latinoamerica

I am
I am what was dropped
I am what’s leftover after you were robbed
A village hidden in the mountains
my skin is like leather 

for whatever the weather
I’m a smoke factory
the hand of a field worker
for your consumption.

A mid summer cold front
like “Love in the Time of Cholera” brother.
The sun that gives birth as the day dies
to the best of sunsets.
I’m development live in the flesh
I’m dry-mouthed political discourse.

The prettiest faces that you’ve ever looked at
I’m a photo of someone who’s been kidnapped.
I’m the blood in your veins
that piece of earth that’s worth the work
I’m a basket of beans.
I’m Maradona chalking up two goals against England.
My mountain range is the backbone of the Planet.
I’m what my father taught me
if you don’t love your country
you don’t love your mother
I am Latin America
a people with no legs but still walking
You can’t buy the wind
You can’t buy the sun
You can’t buy the rain
You can’t buy the heat
You can’t buy the clouds
You can’t buy the colors
You can’t buy my happiness
You can’t buy my pain

Work in Progress

Here's a poem I'm still working on, but it's pretty relevant for the Easter season.  Thoughts?

“I saw him” said the blind man
“he knew about my sin” said a well known sinner, surprised.
and the rumors of a king began to be whispered
Sure, you’ve had presidents before
you’ve had governors and mayors and mothers and husbands or wives
but have  you had a king?
have you stood out under the reign of a king?
On the day he arrived
on a mighty stead
or was it a baby donkey?
it was a day when
palm readers and
palm weavers become
palm wavers in streets
throwing words they’d been saving in jars
for the day when a king would arrive
and when people laid down their reign coats
clearing the way for a new head of state
and really a king is a thing like no other being
the only one who can double jump backward
the one who’s winning any game of foursquare
defended by queens and bishops and pawns
this is no burger king
he’s a bread and wine king
a fish and loaves king
he’s a spit and mud king
a suffer and die king

The Best of It

Today it was announced that one of my favorite poets, Kay Ryan, won the Pulitzer prize for Poetry this year for her book  The Best of It.   I wrote a review a few months ago but never posted it.  Here are my thoughts, but don't take my word for it.

The Best of the Best

Review of Pulitzer Prize winning "The Best of It"  by Kay Ryan

It may be cliche to say, but Kay Ryan’s poetry is perfect for people who do not prefer poetry.  Her verses are both accessible and illusive, thinking for us thoughts that most of us never would have thought without her help.  It is perhaps for this reason that she was given the post of US Poet Laureate in 2008, and her newest collection, The Best of It does not disappoint.  

Somewhat thick for a book of poetry, The Best of It feels like a course in the beauty of the English language and the power of just a few words in the right order.  The subject matter is as broad as it is deep, covering a range of animal and human behavior, in addition to history and geography.  In one stanza from A Certain Meanness of Culture (pg. 64), we read:  “What else can we do, born on deserts occupied haphazardly by borax traders aspiring to a stucco elegance if they’re real lucky?”  I feel as though she is referring to my own neighborhood and at the same time to a place I have never imagined before.  Bitter Pill (pg. 18) is a masterpiece of human understanding, causing us to reassess the meaning of an old idiom in only thirteen short lines.

One aspect of Ryan’s work that elevates it beyond common poetry is her rhyming.  Neither overt nor obtrusive, she rhymes words inside lines when we least expect it, letting the flow of her free verse carry us.  And we cannot help but drift with a smile as we float through what is truly, the best of it. 

House Studio Post

The house studio blog posted an article I wrote here about poetry (sort of)  swing by and check them out!

Billy Collins on NPR

Two more of my favorite things, combined!  You can listen here, and I suggest you do!!

a few of my favorite things

I wouldn't say all of them make me a better writer, but they certainly make being a writer more fun.  My top 5 tools are as follows:

 1. The moleskine notebook.   I personally prefer the unlined softcover sketchbook pocket edition.  I've filled about 10 of the since I started writing seriously, and I like being able to start a new one every few months.  I have purchased them at Barnes and Noble in the past but I just saw a display this past week at Target, so they may be avaiable, in a limited selection, at Target. 

2. And to write in it, of course, the pilot G2 black gel pen.  I don't know why you would want to use any other pen, really... they last forever... or I should say they last longer than I have ever been able to hang on to one. And they always write.  Always.  I've never picked up on that didn't write. 


3. docs.google.com.   Again, I'm not sure what's not to like here.  I can create documents from any computer, save them, and then edit them again from any computer.  I can share them, email them, download them, upload them.  I could go on, but I won't.  I am still waiting for a compelling reason to not use googledocs. 

4. Poetry Magazine.  This is where it happens, as far as I can tell.  This journal, to which I admittedly have never subscribed but which I read regularly, is pretty much the ultimate place where poetry is published.  I regularly day dream about needing to buy extra copies of the next edition so that my family and friends can read something I've written that was published here.  Maybe one day.

5. The Public Library.  Meanwhile, I'll keep reading Poetry and the authors who have been published therein at the public library.  We live about 5 blocks from the Richland Public Library, which is a great one, but there are a few other good ones around.  In Kansas City Sarah and I used to visit different public libraries for fun on Saturdays, but lately we just swing by ours to pay our fines and look at what's new. 

Englewood Review of Books

If you read books, you need to follow this site.  They have some fantastic reviews, often of books you might not find out about other places.  I have the honor of reviewing a book for them, which should be finished soon, so look for my name.  But mostly, just subscribe.  Or at least follow the online reviews.  Seriously.

Re-Re-Starting. Again.

I hate it when I find a link to a blog I think is going to be interesting only to find a the latest post is from two years ago and says "I know I haven't been blogging much later but I'm going to start now.  I swear."

Sadly, I'm that guy. 

I've got a few new projects I'm working on right now, none of which are this blog, and one of which is a child, which is due in July.  So, needless to say  I want to be writing more, and we'll see how that goes. 

One of the most exciting thing I have going on is reviewing a new book. And when I say "new" I mean I got it in the mail from the publisher before the publishing date.  It's pretty good so far, and the review will be at the Englewood Review of Books soon-ish.