Quite the Life (and all in Times New Roman 10pt!)
How many times do I have to tell people I’m not a poet?
The heck with it. If people want to publish my poetry, so be it.
And wouldn’t you know, that’s just what Carmina magazine did with my Whispers poem.
And many thanks to Irene @irenejosefsen Josefsen for telling me to quit lying to people and own the fact I write poetry.
Some of which gets published.
Enjoy!
Before anything else, my deep thanks to Ann Christine Tabaka (aka @TabakaChris and Irene Søde Josefsen for helping me with my crafting and Søde for encouraging me to write poetry.
I’ve mentioned several times I don’t consider myself a poet. It is one of the most challenging forms to me, especially when I write something and am told it doesn’t meet any poetry standards.
“Well, I didn’t know such existed. Forgive me for attempting anything new.”
I shared my poetry with Søde and she immediately wanted to know where I’m published.
“Umm…I’m not.”
“Then get published!” she cried, and I was off…
…to Ann Christine with the said The Coyotes Are Celebrating and asking how to make it better.
“It’s pretty good as is. I wouldn’t change much.”
And she didn’t. And it got published. And Hooray!
You can read The Coyotes Are Celebrating in Carmina’s Sept 2022 issue. It also appears early in this blog’s history here.
A always, let me know what you think, and thanks.
I’ve written repeatedly poetry is not my go-to form and still they come unbidden.
Let me know what you think.
Bright Light.
She couldn’t get over how bright.
Not painful, just amazing.
She remembered some movie, some furry little thing shouting “Bright Light! Bright Light!”
Was that a Furbie? A troll? A little shit? Some kind of televidic excrement?
Didn’t matter.
But this light.
Where was she?
She couldn’t remember.
What was the last thing she could remember?
She laughed.
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I finished editing The Inheritors 12 June and it’s now out with some first readers.
After completion, I cleared things off my desk.
Kind of an archaeological dig, that.
One excavated piece follows. It’s not a short story, not a tone poem, and is framed like a poem.
Let me know what you think. Also, if you have any ideas for a title, please share.
Thankee!
My ancestors
kept lighthouses
to guide ships at sea
safely to harbors,
their bounty to share.
My people
light the skies
of night
hoping that one ship
piloting the cosmos
will return to save us.
The seas gone,
the forests no more,
no animals other
than man,
this rock our home
abhors.
Flee, they said.
Flee, they called
from far away,
their great ships ready
to save us.
Their price a change in our ways.
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Members and Subscribers can LogIn. Non members can join. Non-protected posts (there are several) are available to everyone.
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I continue sharing my attempts at poetry written during a workshop I took. This is from the last class in the series. You can read my efforts in classes 1, 2, and 3.
Continuing with his previous methodology, the teacher gave us one liners to build upon.
Unlike my previous methodology, my first effort is okay. Not great, more than meh!, basically acceptable. My second effort speaks for itself and hearkens back to my opening comments in the first class.
First up, a rift on “Waiting on the vaccine,” something present on everyone’s mind in January 2021.
The second theme to build upon was “Hard times come again no more.”
And so I leave you, perhaps better understanding why poetry is not one of my GoTo forms.