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So many poets, so much suicide.


Our hospital was famous and had housed many great poets and singers. Did the hospital specialize in poets and singers, or was it that poets and singers specialized in madness?... What is it about meter and cadence and rhythm that makes their makers mad?
                                                                                                                                    --Susanna Kaysen

Recently got back from Uttica, IL where we camped in a cabin full of suicidal ladybugs. I've been trying to develop that poem for a week when this happens.

Maybe I've just been paying more attention lately... to blogs, news, etc. Though, it seems like the past year has seen an unusually high number of poet suicides. I say those two words together like they belong. That freaks me out a bit.

Of course, all of this got me thinking about this article, again. I stumbled upon this piece a few years ago and think about it quite often. I think--more than acknowledging the correlation between madness and writing frightens me--wondering about the possibility that I have this rotten egg inside of me waiting to crack open is enough to drive me insane.

I'd imagine that most good people have a little madness waiting to break out of them and all we need is a little nurturing for that to come to fruition. Really, this probably doesn't explain anything. To me, it explains a lot. I have a constant fear that all of these suicides and statistics are whispering to a piece of me that I'd rather not have respond.

In other news, I'll push my paranoia to the side and be happy that I've recently nailed down TWO publication acceptances: one academic article on retention written with a colleague and one poem in Gulft Stream after a year full of rejection. Not so bad for a crazy lady, eh?




 

National Poetry Month Sarcasm


...and all those silly challenges.


first poetry month
haiku: one poem a day,
you say? i say, two! 

Amen.


I'm not so much interested in the Hoagland reference here, just the overall sentiment.

Tony Hoagland is the sort of poet you dream of finding but almost never do. His work is relaxed, deceptively easy on the eye and ear, and it has jokes and unexpected little blurts of melancholic resonance. Plus, I pretty much understood all of it, and yet it's clever--as you almost certainly know, contemporary poetry is a kind of Reykjavik, a place where accessibility and intelligence have been fighting a Cold War by proxy for the last half-century. If something doesn't give you even a shot at comprehension in the first couple of readings, then my motto is "Fuck it," but I never swore once. They can use that as a blurb, if they want. They should. Who wouldn't buy a poetry book that said "I never swore once" on the cover? Everyone would know what it meant.

-Nick Hornby, The Polysyllabic Spree

100 poems for OBAMA!


http://100dayspoems.blogspot.com/

A great project by Arielle Greenberg and Rachel Zucker.

Jan. 19th, 2009


Dear Malia and Sasha,

I know that you've both had a lot of fun these last two years on the campaign trail, going to picnics and parades and state fairs, eating all sorts of junk food your mother and I probably shouldn't have let you have. But I also know that it hasn't always been easy for you and Mom, and that as excited as you both are about that new puppy, it doesn't make up for all the time we've been apart. I know how much I've missed these past two years, and today I want to tell you a little more about why I decided to take our family on this journey.

When I was a young man, I thought life was all about me-about how I'd make my way in the world, become successful, and get the things I want. But then the two of you came into my world with all your curiosity and mischief and those smiles that never fail to fill my heart and light up my day. And suddenly, all my big plans for myself didn't seem so important anymore. I soon found that the greatest joy in my life was the joy I saw in yours. And I realized that my own life wouldn't count for much unless I was able to ensure that you had every opportunity for happiness and fulfillment in yours. In the end, girls, that's why I ran for President: because of what I want for you and for every child in this nation.

I want all our children to go to schools worthy of their potential-schools that challenge them, inspire them, and instill in them a sense of wonder about the world around them. I want them to have the chance to go to college-even if their parents aren't rich. And I want them to get good jobs: jobs that pay well and give them benefits like health care, jobs that let them spend time with their own kids and retire with dignity.

I want us to push the boundaries of discovery so that you'll live to see new technologies and inventions that improve our lives and make our planet cleaner and safer. And I want us to push our own human boundaries to reach beyond the divides of race and region, gender and religion that keep us from seeing the best in each other.

Sometimes we have to send our young men and women into war and other dangerous situations to protect our country-but when we do, I want to make sure that it is only for a very good reason, that we try our best to settle our differences with others peacefully, and that we do everything possible to keep our servicemen and women safe. And I want every child to understand that the blessings these brave Americans fight for are not free-that with the great privilege of being a citizen of this nation comes great responsibility.

  Sasha (l) and Malia Obama at play in New Hampshire in 2007.
  Bumper cars at the Iowa State Fair in August 2007.
That was the lesson your grandmother tried to teach me when I was your age, reading me the opening lines of the Declaration of Independence and telling me about the men and women who marched for equality because they believed those words put to paper two centuries ago should mean something.

She helped me understand that America is great not because it is perfect but because it can always be made better-and that the unfinished work of perfecting our union falls to each of us. It's a charge we pass on to our children, coming closer with each new generation to what we know America should be.

I hope both of you will take up that work, righting the wrongs that you see and working to give others the chances you've had. Not just because you have an obligation to give something back to this country that has given our family so much-although you do have that obligation. But because you have an obligation to yourself. Because it is only when you hitch your wagon to something larger than yourself that you will realize your true potential.

These are the things I want for you-to grow up in a world with no limits on your dreams and no achievements beyond your reach, and to grow into compassionate, committed women who will help build that world. And I want every child to have the same chances to learn and dream and grow and thrive that you girls have. That's why I've taken our family on this great adventure.

I am so proud of both of you. I love you more than you can ever know. And I am grateful every day for your patience, poise, grace, and humor as we prepare to start our new life together in the White House.


Love, Dad

Happy New Year, Journal.


No catching up. Just is.

This makes me happy. This drives me crazy.

Irony


Photobucket


3 steps forward, 2 steps back. It is pretty evident now that the same African-American turnout that voted overwhelmingly for Obama in California also voted overwhelmingly in favor of Prop 8.

Nov. 5th, 2008


Nov. 4th, 2008


Yes we did.

My Poems

RHINO
Pebble Lake Review
Bellingham Review
MAKE Magazine
Eleventh Muse
Columbia Poetry Review
Black Clock
Bloom
Yemassee
Gay & Lesbian Review
DIAGRAM
42 Opus
Wicked Alice
Court Green
Gulf Stream

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