poet
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What is Poetry? What is a Poem?
People are keen on over defining things, and in the long run I believe doing so leads us in a straight line to fascism. Not everything has to be categorized in a jar. However, for the purposes of grant writing and educating little kids, its always good to have some kind of definition ready to…
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Look for poetry that stirs you: Rhythm
For me, that’s always going to have some punchy rhythm. Rhythm in poetry is made by word choice, order of words, length of lines and stanzas, etc. It’s easiest to feel it in strictly structured, rhyming poems like Shakespearean sonnets. It’s probably why that kind of poetry gets taught so much in school. Even if…
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They say there’s no catching up on sleep, and it must be true.
In three decades I have only gotten “enough” sleep for maybe a month. Nights I stay up shouting, crying, letting the Void emerge from under these chewed up ribs and tear apart my day and life and work, shred the love I have for whoever is before me, and if there is no love there,…
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Take My Choice
I’ve removed choice from my days for many things – feeding my cat and rabbit, thinking about art, eating. But there are many choices that remain – when to feed them, whether to also look at or learn about art, and hugely what to eat. decision fatigue …even thinking whether to keep writing about it…
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A Mindscape of Frost and Fate
I do not stop on paths contemplating how they’ve been pre-travelled. I do not dawdle in wintry woods. Things need to be done, and seeing their need, I see the silver path to fulfillment. Each idea, each priority, every whim and fancy that floats before me, whether offered, imposed, or simply appearing, they all receive…
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Inner Monologue – a poem for the blog because it’s long
It is quiet when I close my eyes.The monologue that turns like tank treads through the mud of Today ceases as often as mans greed is slacked. But here I am tonighta master swordsmithshoeing hooves blindfoldedhaving started work predawnand it’s not long pastthe wintry duskeyes slacking into the glass and electricity of this screen and hark!is…
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I love surrealism.
I love the bends and gasps it makes in my brain, melting this and stretching that. That flower is a beautiful face, and those spiders will shelter us from the desert rays. I love the painters of surreal paintings: Miro’s playful lines that lead the eyes to newness, Magritte placing objects in my face, Kandinsky…
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Big Feelings
Big feelings are absolutely a hallmark of writers. Despair Ecstasy Joy I’m sure even writers who mechanically pump out a new book every 6 months to a year (Kristen Hannah, Steven King, Colleen Hoover, Raymond Chandler, etc.) feel massively in their chests and limbs the loves and fears of their characters. The secret is being…
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The Sound of One Hand Snapping
Poetry and lit readings have some weird stereotypes, starting with the berets. Of course we all wear berets, and I must say I own 4 different berets, wear them often, and look forward to buying more should they appear at flea markets. However, I find myself in the extreme minority with the berets. More common…
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Look for the poetry that stirs you: Words
For me, that’s always going to be language heavy. Like, I read a lot of poems in books and on the internet that just sound like day time talk show guests things to introduce themselves. It’s bland in word choice (not to mention forced in intention and energy). Where are my fellow poets who crack…
Erin Oubliette 