On the bayou

 

 

After Monday, when my summer class will be done, I will focus on writing poetry and a short story or two. 

Since I have this blog, I will post to it every now and then.  You may notice that I have changed the format and layout.  I will post books that I am currently reading... one must read in order to write... mostly poetry and short stories. 

This is an assignment for my Editing/Publishing class... a Table of Contents for an anthology of poems I would like to publish.  I will call this Anthology .... For Your Eyes Only....

Anthology Table of Contents 

Kimberly Quiogue Andrews

            Tree Cutting/1                                              

            The Bath  /3                                                  

Tommy Archuleta

            Gravity/4                                                   

John Ashberry

            Just Walking Around/6                              
            Poem at the New Year /7                           
            Glazunoviana  /8                                        

Frank Bidart

            Injunction/9                                                    

Mary Biddington

            Cooperative Efforts /10                             
            Ode to Your Innocence /11                                

Nicholas Born

            A Song That Everyone Knows/12             
            A Single Body /13                                     

Nancy Botkin

            Inheritance /14                                                               
            This Lifetime/15                                        

Molly Brodak

            Underneath at All/16                                 
            The Folk Physics of Chimpanzees /17       

Michael Burkard

            What I Threw Into the Grave/18                 

Ashley Capps

Hymn for Two Choirs/20                           

            Reading an Ex-Lover’s First Novel/21           
            Conventional Red /22                                   
 

Kim Chinquee

           I Ate the Insides  /23                                      

Daniel Chirom

            Lilith    /24                                                
            Perla /25                                                   

Paula Cisewski

             My Dearest Memory/26                         
             Birds of Appetite /28                              

Bruce Cohen

            Age  /29                                                  
            Fruit or Vegetable /30                           
            Alphabet of Trouble /31                       

Peter Cooley
            Corpus Delicti  /32                               

Gregory Corso

          Italian Extravaganza/33                      

Brenda Coultas

            An Early Alphabet  /34                             
            A Stick /35                                                   
            Black Boxes  /36                                         

Cynthia Cruz

            The Great Destroyer  /37                       
            New York State /38                              
            Strange Gospels /39                             

Stephan Delbos

            Verdant; A Word /40                                    
            Exit Letter /41                                                
            Advent  /42   

Sharon Dolin

            Street  /43      
            Black Painting #2: The Dead /44   
            Discarded Clothes  /45    

Kevin Ducey

            Two Young Pigeons / Snow Falls on Vichy /46  
            Somewhere Sensible  /48
            Define This Word /49 

Brendan Galvin       

            Carolina Déjá Vu /51 

Louise Glűck

            *An Adventure /53        
 
Stacy Gnall    
            Halloween, Ohio, and an Appropriately-Named Lake /55    

Erica Goss

            Easter Sunday /56  

Donald Hall

            Affirmation /58 

John J. Han

              Autumn /59   
             Autumn /60    
             Autumn /61    

Bob Hicok

            Man of the House /62            
            Watching My Father Watch (Seriously) “Joy in a Can” /63   
            Middle Age  /64    

Sean Patrick Hill
            Crossing Idaho /66  
            The Brides Will Sing /67 
            Pioneer Graves at Lone Fir /68 

Laura Kasischke

            Riddle /69  
            Pharmacy/70  
           The Key to the Tower /71  

Charmi Keranen

            The Great American Interchange /73   
            Gulping It Down  /74     
            The South Shore  /75    

Nate Klug

            Errand /76  
            Memorial Day, St. Gregory’s Abbey/77 

Gregory Lawless     

            Just You Wait /78  

Kent Leatham

            Three-legged race  /80 

David Dodd Lee

            Offspring, Once Removed /82  
            Her Body /83  
            Shot by Boy, Hawkins and Lee Die in a Flooded Quarry /84

Alex Lemon

            More Being Wondrous /85 
            Sponsor This Gorilla  /87 

Anthony Madrid

            His Tears Are As Ours Are /89
            To Nadya /90 
            Their Fulminations Are Mere Theater /91

Michael Martin

            Tithes to a Woman-poet /92 
            Tell the Police About Me /93 
            Flowmeter /94

Louise Mathias

            Subterranean /96 
            Satine/97 

Clayton T. Michaels

            Untitled #19  /98 
            Hexagram /99 
            Watermark  /101

Mark Neely

            Lorenzo on the Stoop /102

Carrie Oeding

            Those Women Are Laughing /103
            Neighbor Curse / 105
            When the Neighborhood’s Asleep /106

Sharon Olds

            Front is Nulla Fides /107

Jena Osman
            Starred Together /109

Eric Pankey

           The Enigma of a Useless Key  /111

Allan Peterson
            Survival  / 112
            Ghost Story /113
            Headlines   /114

Carl Phillips

            Fretwork  /115

Martha Rhodes

            The Jade Plant /117 
            The Pleasures and Inconveniences of Being Detested /118 
            An Immense /119 

Corinne Robins

            Les Demoiselles d’Avignon /120

Sankar Roy   

            Anthills as Described by Wikipedia /122

Mary Ruefle

            Sweet Morning /124  
            Statement /126

Ira Sadoff

            Self-Portrait with Critic  /127

Zachary Schomburg

             The Difference Between Sadness and Suffering /129
             The Animal Spell/130
             Death Letter /131
 
Herbert Scott
            The Unforgiven /132 
            The Song the Burnt Child Sings /133 
            That Summer /134 

 Frederick Seidel

            From a High Floor /135
            The Hour /136 

Aleš Šteger

            Paper Clip /137 
            Wall /138  

Kevin Stein

            Blind Voyeur /139  
            In Heaven  /140 
 

Stephanie Strickland

            burning briar scanning tunnel /142 
            unsolved problems /143  
            already /144 

 Sarah Valentine

             Orchid /145  
             Wolves/146 
Ross White
            Mein Gott /148 
            Evil Twin /149 

Franz Wright

            For Frank Stanford /150 
            For Larry Levis /151 
           Rosary  /152 

 Monika Zobel

            Conservation /153 
            One Way /154 

There are some eighteen literary magazines listed on the 42 Miles Press blog. Randomly, extremely randomly, I picked Shampoo Poetry and Action Yes to review and compare. I also experimented with Hyperlinks in this assignment... a shiny new toy to play with.

 

Shampoo Poetry is quite a contemporary online literary magazine.  It features a wide array of modern, upbeat poetry for anyone who likes poetry. It does take a little browsing to find some poetry that suites your reading pleasure / touches you personally in one small way or another. This online magazine feature hundreds of poets captured within their last 40 issues, including this well known poet.

 

Action Yes is published quarterly, established in 2000 and co-edited by Carina Finn and Ji yoon Lee, with contributions by Johannes Göransson and Emily Hunt. There is some great poetry within cyberspace here. The magazine lists over 20 contributing poets with links to their submissions, which can be printed if you so desire. They include a huge list of authors and links to their work, presses, blogs etc… One author, Ben Fama, has 3 poems. Two of the three I like. In the one titled, RIP… I think on the island / yesterday a horse died / right there at the party … seems to be written in remembrance of a friend named Claire.

In the “Links” section, I clicked on 5cense and then clicked on “10 images inspired by and for TheRevisionist by Miranda Mellis” and was taken to some truly amazing artwork. I believe Action Yes is well rounded and seems to have more to offer than Shampoo Poetry.

         

Something different

BAYOU

Egrets nesting in the tall grass

           slender and snow colored. 

Swamp eagles diving beneath the water

          reappearing as sea creatures from the blackness. 

The stench of bayou in my hair

          like stagnant water. 

Opaque coal shattering into ripples

          broken by the cypress anchors.    

Minnows gathering ...

          dinner pooled together. 

Fingers in the tree moss reaching toward the earth

          as the wind blows.        

Spiders keeping house on the dock.

Working.

Waiting. 

Fire ants crawl up my socks as I watch.

I found this poem forgotten in a folder, written after my trip to Texas over Christmas.  I had hoped to write more while down there, but that didn't happen.  I felt if I didn't post it I would never see it again...

CREATING A CHAPBOOK 

POEM ONE - The poem below is going into a chapbook I am working on in my Editing/Publishing class:

 

ONE TRACK PEN 

And then I stopped and grabbed the pen.

The pen startled me, the way it seemed to move on its own.

The writer’s rush I call it, like the lightening in a receiver’s cleats. 

The pen wanted to go in one direction, my mind in another.

My mind struggling to be erotic and sensual,

the pen taking the piece in wild chaotic circles. 

I am an “x” and I’ll consider the pen to be a “y”.

I attempted sensual and erotic, the pen wrote orgy and porn.

Becoming irritated, I capped the pen.

                                                                                                         

Like a child having a tantrum it dropped to the floor and popped off its cap.

Then the hand jumped in and placed the pen on the paper.

The paper was a light shade of pink and had a sultry, silky texture. 

Wild as fire, the pen spread its words all over the paper.

The hand seemed to weep at what the pen had written.

“Y” had taken my mind’s beautiful bronze breasts and turned it into bodacious boobs. 

The pen had become more desirous of pleasing the paper than doing as I wanted.

The paper took on a hue like blushing cherries.

The pen had its way and soon spewed all over the cooing paper. 

I had enough, pitched the dried up pen and moist paper in the trash.

I sought out a new pen, feminine and slender to the touch.

The new pen and I were joined by the muse. 

We three, more alike than different,

created poetry filled with beauty and music.

We three, intimately entwined 

pleased each other.

I moved, the pen moved, the muse stayed.

This poem was born of a shitty first draft.   At first, there was a man in the poem… but too much dialogue…so I took the man out and put in the pen instead (with a male persona).  I think the tercets work well with this poem as do the variety of the line lengths.  The pen basically comes to life with the use of some action verbs.  I like how the poem ends with a new pen that is more compatible with the writer and I think it leaves the reader with a feeling of calm and contentment after the craziness.   This piece has multiple meanings,.. the writing process / choices / sexuality ... is ambiguous, and each reader will come away with something unique.  I really like the last five lines, but should I leave them out??

POEM 2 - I would also like to include this prose poem in my chapbook.   

DOG POUND 

She had a feeling the day would be strange when she woke up late that Sunday.  The alarm clock read 10:30.  She would not be able to get ready on time to attend the 11:00 o’clock mass at St. Ann’s church, the very church she was married in last July.  She dreaded walking in late because she did not want to be known as the late girl.  The television was on in the living room of the small, nearly furnished apartment.  The smell of coffee and cigarette smoke wafted past her nose.  “Did you fall asleep watching movies again?”  “Yeah, come sit with me on the couch and watch this.” As a quick flash of skin engulfed the big screen, she quickly covered her eyes with her hand and walked into the living room.   “I can’t watch that!  I’ll go blind.  Sister Gabriel will roll over in her grave.  You will go blind.  And then we’ll have to get a dog and name him Boy because you won’t know where he is and will have to call, ‘Here, Boy’.”   “It’s just a little girl on girl stuff.   It’s really hot.”  He was smirking.  “Marc,” she said as he paused the video, “why do you think girls dig other girls?”  She went on telling him her theory of how women ‘turn’, unlike men who are born ‘that way’.  “The girl snaps, gets fed up with the testosterone mentality and falls in love with her own kind.  Simple.” 

He watched her reach over to the cricket keeper, gently remove one cricket and place it in the aquarium with their tarantula.  He was perplexed as to why she was being so loving to the cricket when it was going to have the life sucked out of it in a few minutes.  Snapping back to the present, he continued to try to convince her that the movie would help them, when sweat began to bead up on his forehead and seep through his sweatshirt.  He sat up, stared at her with eerie unblinking black eyes, and faintly whispered, “I don’t feel good.” She froze in terror as she watched his eyes roll back in his head while his jaw stiffened and his limbs seized up as he fell off the couch onto the floor.  His body continued to move in frightening jerking movements.  He smelled of urine. 

In the emergency room she was trying to get the attending physician to check her husband’s eyesight.  The doctor insisted on sticking with his assumption that you can’t test a person’s eyesight when they are unconscious.  But she persisted, “I think he’s blind.”  “Young lady, seizures don’t cause blindness,” the doctor tried to convince her.  The ride back to their apartment was so quiet they could hear each other breathing.  “Where are you going?” he asked as she turned west when they lived east.  “We’re going to the pound to get Boy,” she said matter of factly.  “I am not blind!”  “Yes, you are!  Quit arguing with me!”

 

This piece is part autobiographical, part fiction based on a real occurrence. Being brought up in the Catholic faith can be very intense at times … resulting in late girl. This poem was not meant to be humorous. When I wrote this I was dealing with my husband’s latest seizure. The seizure wasn’t caused by him watching porn but at least this gave a reason for the seizures for which the cause is unknown. The seizure episode in the second paragraph was as real as it could be, being very painful to recall in the first place. If you look deep into late girl’s mind…maybe she is thinking that her husband being blind and having a seeing-eye dog would be easier to deal with than an unexplained seizure disorder and the accompanying short term memory loss. Maybe she needs a simple answer. Is this piece too long for a chapbook? Also, should I give him a fictional name like Larry or something ??