Sunday, February 28, 2010

Poems Mailed

I sent my latest book off to AWP Writers contest yesterday. I asked my friend Jenny to look over the poems (she is an amazing editor) and I added enough to get the minimum, of 48 + 1 poems so I keep working on my DL Project and other poems that come my way.
I am also reading Corn by Paul Engle written around the same time that Dorthea Lange was photographing farmers. I am reading John Steinbeck's Travels with Charlie. You thought I would say Grapes of Wrath didn't you. Also A Plague of Doves by Louise Erdrich. I think she is one of the best writers out there.

Saturday, February 13, 2010

So much writing is done on emotion. I read about writers and how that have a schedule or a goal for each day. For a long time I tried this to emulate others who are so successful in this craft. This of course hides what my style is and creates guilt when I fail at "their" craft. I have my highs and lows as a writer but never fail to get something written. Having three books of poetry and several individual poems published  says something of how I work. I am advocating for the individual style that all writers must find to FLOW.
 My Dorthea Lange Project went on hold for awhile. I would look at her photos and nothing would come. I began to think I need to go back and choose a different set. Yesterday  I looked at this one photo below and these simple yet powerful words came to me. I think of Gwendolen Brooks: We Real Cool Poem, http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/we-real-cool/ not to compare but to remind that short poems  can be powerful.      Taking It Easy
    
                     We done work.
                     Work done us.
                     We done lean.





Sunday, January 31, 2010

New Poems

When mom smoked
She used a filter
Of black & silver.
The distance
From mouth to menthol
Was her intake.

This was style
A mirror to advertising-
Grace with a cigarette
Plugged in.        WE
Who inhaled such exhaust
Were sickened years later
By that wand that coughs
In our memory.



David slew Goliath
That power moved through him.
David loved his Solomon, his king.
That love was a dance of weapons and music.
The obvious crown rolled like a rutted wheel
To and fro- subservience to royalty.
That spinning was playful with a dose of jealously.

David as king loved his women
Sending spouses to battle while he
Had his way. That power was seduction.
God’s law was his aura as his body plowed
The air with proclamations. That rule was hypnotic.

David’s musical talents went beyond the lyre-
Women moaned in lust and men wailed in cries
Of war, allegiance.
As old Solomon would split a child for equality
God’s favor he could not balance. 
That was inconsistency for a king like David.



Chairman Mao’s Impromptu Visit


Chairman Mao got off the bus today
Dressed in shorts and hoodie.
Looking much like a round faced woman.

Holding a laptop, no red book,
No star on cap. The distance was palatable.
No visible guards. He did not wave or talk
The peoples talk.
Cameras did not flash as they did
When shaking hands with an over coated
Nixon on the Great Wall.

I counted the group around him
But it never added to nine-
More sometimes less, but no gang.
This impromptu stop, his only
Visit to America, is all the more
Bizarre since he’s been dead for so long.

Thursday, January 28, 2010

Wednesday, January 13, 2010

Friday, January 1, 2010