NaNoWriMo Day Ten

I wrote a lot this morning, for me: 774 words.  That's almost half my daily word count goal.  I usually only manage somewhere in the 400 to 500 range, which is somewhere in the one-fourth to one-third range.

It probably helped that the boys slept in more today than they usually do.  It was quiet, which is good for my writing.  That, and I had a scene in mind that I was looking forward to writing.  It's never as good on the page as it is in my head, but it was good to get this one down.  The action of my novel is now starting to take off.

On Sunday, one of the interns at the Office of Letters and Light, those wonderful people who put on NaNoWriMo every year, posted a blog entry about the Young Adult Novel Discovery Competition.  I was intrigued by this when I saw it.  One, I'm writing a young adult novel this year, and, two, the picture they used was the cover of a book I just read, Writing Great Books for Young Adults by Regina L. Brooks.  I decided to enter the contest, so last night I sent them my title, Asylum, the first 250 words of my novel, and my $15 entry fee.  I'm not expecting much, but if I'm ever going to get a novel published, I have to send my writing out to the publishing industry.  This seemed like a good way to start.

Wrote some more tonight, reaching 19,203!  At day ten, the word goal is 16,667 words, so I'm ahead of schedule, thanks to that lead I got the first day.  In terms of percentage, I should be at 33%, but I'm at 38%.  It's a nice feeling, being a little bit ahead of schedule.

This is how I won last year, writing every day, writing those 1,667 words, at least, just about every day.  I think I had two days last year when I only wrote about 900 to 1,000 words.  This year I'm averaging over 1,900 words a day.

I've got plenty yet to write.  No worries on the plot front.  I'm not going to jinx myself by saying "smooth sailing" or anything like that, but I am on track for winning again this year.  And I think I have a good chance of actually finishing my novel the first time through.  I have a much better sense of what I'm writing this year.  I know, roughly, how it's going to end, and I think that's making all the difference.

NaNoWriMo Day Nine

I made sure to write this morning.  I had such a hard time reaching my word count last night, that I didn't want to repeat that.  I wrote 274 words this morning before work.  I would have written more, but I had laundry to fold, and a bag lunch to make for my son's field trip.

A bag lunch he left in the car, by the way.  Luckily, I had also made a peanut butter and jelly sandwich for myself, which I gave to him.  Someone in his class gave him an apple, and he got a box of cereal from the cafeteria.  (I ate his pb&j as a snack when we got home.)

He also got sick on the field trip.  Apparently, he wasn't feeling well this morning, but hid this from me because he wanted to go on the field trip.  He threw up after the bus ride, so wouldn't have been able to eat the lunch I had made for him anyway.

He was a real trooper, though.  He stuck it out with me during kickball tryouts for an hour after school.  Then we came home.

I wrote another 293 words before we went to pick up my younger son at his after-school program.

After dinner, I wrote some more, finishing a total of 1,680 words today, for a grand total of 17,528.  I am now 35% done, over a third of the way there.

If I keep going at this rate, I'll finish 50K, the goal of NaNoWriMo, somewhere around the 27th.

NaNoWriMo Day Eight

Didn't write this morning again.  Bad habit that I have to break.  Getting done some 400 to 500 words in the morning really helps.  Then another writing session to reach my word count for the day doesn't seem so bad.  But trying to do it all after a day of work, that's hard.

I wrote 1,686 words today, but they weren't easy words.

It's just after 10 p.m. and I'm stopping for the day.  I'm up to 15,848.

NaNoWriMo Day Seven

Another good day.  I am averaging over 2,000 words a day.  I didn't think I'd cross the 14K mark today, but I did, ending the day at 14,162 total words.

Also saw my wife off at the airport for her trip to France, and then took my boys to see Megamind.

NaNoWriMo Day Six

Went to my second write-in of this year.  Had a very nice time writing at Carrot's Coffee and Tea in San Bruno, my hometown.  Wrote some 1400 words there in about an hour and a half.

There were just four of us there, nice and quiet.  We talked a bit at the end.  That's what I like about write-ins.  We sit, drink our beverage of choice, whether coffee, tea, or a smoothie.  Then we talk for a bit about writing as we unwind and say our goodbyes.

The owner is very nice and makes a delightful soy latte.  Strong coffee, soy milk that is not too sweet, and she didn't overdo it on the hazelnut syrup either.  One of the best lattes I've had in a long time; and she doesn't charge extra for soy milk.

Came home and started working on my November playlist.  I make a new playlist for my iPod every month, mostly for driving to and from work.  I'm a few days behind schedule.  Pulled out some more new wave music compilations form the 80s, some R.E.M., who I haven't listened to in a while, and (don't say anything) some Christmas music.

Took the boys to swim class, had dinner at Red Robin, watched Toy Story 3, and put boys to bed.  Watched another episode of Dexter with my better half, then put her to bed.  Wrote another
five hundred words or so, and then called it a night.

Updated my word count at NaNoWriMo, then came here to blog about the day.  Wrote 1,942 words today.  My grand total so far is exactly 12,250.  All in all, a good day all the way around.

NaNoWriMo Day Five

I didn't write this morning before I went to work.  Just wasn't feeling it this morning.  My allergies have been bad again the last couple of days.  I think I have another mild sinus infection.  And I just didn't have any energy for writing this morning.

But I made myself crank out the words today.  I only got out 1,676, just barely going over the 1,667 minimum.  And the words didn't come easily today.  I was tired after work and my brain was just not cooperating, but I stuck it out and wrote what I think is going to be the better part of a chapter.

It was worth it, though, because for five days in a row I've written at least the minimum.  And today I crossed the 10K mark - 10,311 to be exact.  That felt really good.  It looked great on the website, seeing those five digits.  I'm 20% of the way there, on target for finishing on or around the 25th.

NaNoWriMo Day Four

I only wrote 393 words this morning.  I overslept.

Normally, I use an alarm on my cell phone to wake me up in the mornings.  I usually hit the snooze button the three times I have it set for.  But yesterday, I hit the Stop button instead after the first time the alarm went off, forgetting that it turns the alarm off completely.

So, this morning I overslept.  I rushed though my shower, had a cup of instant coffee, and went to the sunroom to write.  I didn't have much time this morning, so the not-so-great wordcount.

However, I did go to my first write-in this evening.  Our region has a regular Thursday night write-in at the Peet's Coffee in San Mateo.  I never tried write-ins last year, nor did I go to any of the meet-and-greets.  But this year, not only did I go to the first meet-and-greet last Thursday, I decided I would also try some write-ins.

So I loaded some information on my Neo from my laptop, some plot points and character information I thought I might need.  I charged up my iPod and made sure I had added my writing playlist; I had.  I even packed a notebook in case I decided to write longhand.

I bought a pumpkin spice latte with soy milk and a ginger spice vegan cookie.  I was so glad to see that they had at least one kind of vegan cookie.  Then I joined my fellow wrimos and wrote.

It turns out I did pretty well on my first write-in.  I wrote 1,603 words at Peet's.  They were playing some nice classical music, so I never got out my iPod.  The coffee tasted good on my sore throat; stupid allergies.  After I had gotten quite a few words done, I rewarded myself with most of my cookie, followed by sips of my latte.  After another long spell of writing, I finished off my cookie, then kept writing, coming to a good stopping place for the evening.

I'm looking forward to next Thursday's write-in.  It was fun writing together in a group like that.

I ended the day with 1,998 words written, putting me at a total of 8,635.

NaNoWriMo Day Three

Wrote 569 words this morning.  So far, the way I wrote last year is working for me again this year.  The last two mornings, I've written about 500 words in about 30 minutes, which is about all the time I have in the morning before I have to start getting ready for work.  Then, I just have to manage about another thousand words or so later in the day to meet my daily word goal.

It's nice having that big head start I got on the first, but I want to maintain about 1700 words a day so that I stay on schedule.  I remember last year, having a couple of 900 or 1000 word days, but I'm going to try to avoid that this year, if at all possible.

Wrote some more this afternoon on my Neo while waiting at the dentist's office with my two boys, and then came home and finished with a total of 1,670 words for the day, putting me up to a total of 6,637.

NaNoWriMo Day Two

Wrote 451 words this morning before going in to work, which puts my total word count at 3,687.

It's now 8:30 p.m. and I have met my word count for today: 1,734 words, for a grand total of 4,967.  I'm just shy of 10% done.  I suppose I should just hammer out another 33 words for an even 5K, but I'm at a good stopping place.  I just finished a scene, and I know exactly what I'm going to write next.

NaNoWriMo Day One

It's November first - the official start of NaNoWriMo.  I was going to try to stay up late last night and start writing early this morning, but I didn't make it.  I'm just too old to be staying up past midnight.

I did sleep in a little this morning, but got started writing before walking my younger son to school this morning.  By 9:30 a.m., I had written 1,302 words.  It shouldn't take me too much longer, about fifteen minutes or so, to reach today's goal.  But, I plan on getting in at least two day's worth of words today, since I have the whole day off.

It's a furlough day in my district today, the first of this school year.  It's not a paid day off, either.  It's furlough, as in: Unpaid time off given to government employees for the purpose of reducing the budget. I'm not sure "given" is the right verb to use there.

By 12:30 p.m., I was up to 2,012 words.

We seem to have crashed the NaNoWriMo website.  I've been unable to get on since my last update here at 12:30; it's now 3:00.  I wanted to update my word count, but I don't know if that's going to happen or not.  I checked their Twitter feed; they're trying to get it back up and running, but it appears, yet again, that a record number of people have joined in to write 50,000 words this month.  Nothing succeeds like excess - or something like that.

So, I had to go look it up.  It's from an Oscar Wilde quote, which is appropriate for NaNoWriMo in general, and today in particular.

"Moderation is a fatal thing.  Nothing succeeds like excess." - Oscar Wilde

Dan got the website up and running again, so I updated my word count.  At 4:30 p.m., I was up to 2,810 words.

Around 9:30 p.m., I called it a day at 3,233 words.  The website is still sluggish, so all I'm doing is updating my word count.  I wanted to log some shoutouts on the forums, but I can't sit around waiting for pages to load.

A good first day of NaNoWriMo.  Congratulations to the NaNo team, especially Dan, and wishes of luck to the thousands of wrimos out there.

I've completed my first two chapters, and have a chunk of chapter three written.  I spent a lot of time thinking about my main character, which made the first chapter really easy to write.  But chapters two and three were a little harder; I'm definitely winging it there, but having fun!

Saturday Morning

You would think that I'd sleep in, but no, I was up at 5:30 this morning.  So, as per usual, grabbed the laptop, moved to the sunroom, which is still not filled with sun, because it's only around 6:30.  And it's cold, but I've got my blanket.  And now I have my wordcount widgets for NaNoWriMo to keep me warm.

I've got two more days for some prewriting plotting and planning.  I've got a couple more plot points in my head that I want to jot down.  I downloaded a Windows beta of Scrivener the other day.  I'm going to play with it some more over the next two days to decide whether I want to use it this November or not.  I already like the notecards and corkboard feature.  It's helped me with my planning so far.  I'm going to load the tutorial and see what else I can learn about it, what other features it has that might help me write.

NaNoWriMo has yet to begin

There is something bittersweet in that little phrase.  That's what it says on the NaNoWriMo website right underneath my username.

It's bitter in the sense that it's not November yet and I can't start writing my novel yet. Ah, yet, how you taunt me.

It's sweet in the sense that you can only see that phrase once you've joined the writing insanity that is NaNoWriMo and are logged in to the website.  It says: You are one of us.

NaNoWriMo Advertisement

Indication

NaNoWriMo is indicated for the treatment of overactive imagination. The efficacy of NaNoWriMo has been established since 1999 in numerous trials in the United States and abroad. More than 30,000 were successfully treated with NaNoWriMo last year.

Important Safety Information About NaNoWriMo

NaNoWriMo can increase the presence of plot bunnies seen by children, teens, and adults. Rampant overactive imagination is a known risk of writer's syndrome and some other disorders. Treatment in the first week is often positive, but be especially observant in the second week of treatment for worsening symptoms. Unusual changes in behavior are common with NaNoWriMo, and are often reported by families and friends. NaNoWriMo is approved for persons 13 and over; younger persons should be treated with Young Writers Program.

What should I talk about with my healthcare provider?

Patients on NaNoWriMo and their families or caregivers should watch for new or worsening writing symptoms, unusual changes in behavior, flights of fancy, anxiety over writer's block, panic attacks, difficulty sleeping, irritability, restlessness, or extreme hyperactivity. Be especially observant within the first month of treatment as this change in dosage frequently worsens symptoms.

Who should NOT take NaNoWriMo?

Everyone should take NaNoWriMo. There are acknowledged side effects from taking NaNoWriMo, but they are generally well tolerated by individuals of every age and gender.

What other important information should I discuss with my healthcare provider?

Before starting NaNoWriMo:
* Decide if you are a planner or a pantser.
* Stock up on writing supplies: pens, paper, laptop, etc.
* Find a suitable location or locations for administering NaNoWriMo. Some patients prefer privacy, while others thrive in public.
* Stock up on suitable amounts of water. The administration of caffeine in conjunction with NaNoWriMo is open to debate. Many former patients swear by it, while others admit it contributes to insomnia, panic attacks, and irritability.
* Warn family and friends of the time that taking NaNoWriMo will require.

While taking NaNoWriMo:
* Take a minimum dosage of 1,667 words per day. More is advisable. Find the dosage that works best for you.
* Be aware of stiff muscles and carpal tunnel syndrome. Maintain your normal diet and exercise routine.
* Plan for discontinuing NaNoWriMo after one month. Many patients suffer other symptoms as they discontinue NaNoWriMo. Some wean themselves off as November comes to an end, while others quit cold turkey.
* Expect variations in moodiness not common throughout the rest of the year. Many patients experience extreme highs and extreme lows on a daily basis. Giddiness and depression are common side effects.
* Daily habits may be discontinued safely. Do not feel compelled to wash dishes, do laundry, scrub the bathtub, or other mundane tasks while taking NaNoWriMo.
* Consult the forums on a regular basis after your daily dosage has been met.
* Daydreaming will increase during NaNoWriMo. This is a good thing.
If you have any questions, consult with the many helpful people on the NaNoWriMo forums. Many have successfully taken NaNoWriMo in the past, and have helpful advice for new patients.

What are the most common side effects of NaNoWriMo?

The most common side effect of NaNoWriMo was a completed draft of a novel. Other common side effects included insomnia, dry mouth, constipation (otherwise known as writer's block), increased sweating, decreased appetite, increased appetite, hallucinations, and generalized anxiety disorder. This is not a complete list of side effects.

Other safety information about NaNoWriMo:

NaNoWriMo may cause insomnia and heart palpitations. Until you know how NaNoWriMo affects you, you should not drive a car or operate hazardous machinery. The operation of keyboards generally increases in speed and efficacy during NaNoWriMo.

Terms and Conditions
* Reimbursement is not offered for up to 30 days of NaNoWriMo therapy. Prescriptions for 1,667 words daily or more are not eligible for reimbursement. Your time is your own; use it wisely.
* Offer void nowhere. Valid for all Earth residents.
* Offer valid to individuals and institutions. See Young Writers Program for institutional terms and conditions.
* By accepting this offer, you agree to work daily to produce 50,000 words during November. Do not apply for an extension of time; none will be forthcoming.
* Additional exclusions will not apply and this offer will not be terminated, rescinded, revoked or amended by The Office of Letters and Light unless you violate the user agreement, which you won't do because you're better than that.
* NaNoWriMo and the NaNoWriMo logo are trademarks of The Office of Letters and Light, a nonprofit organization.

San Francisco Veg Fest 2010

We just got home from our visit to this year's Veg Festival in Golden Gate Park.  I have to rave about the taquitos we got from Flacos.  And the baked goods we got from Sugar Beat Sweets were so delicious.  They had a pumpkin streusel coffee cake and a strawberry cheesecake square that were outstandingly scrumptious; my wife and I split those two.  I didn't try the brownie my older son got, but he heartily approved.  I'm the only one who's vegan in my household, but everyone found something tasty to eat.

We also sampled WayFare We Can't Say It's Cheese Spreads.  I tried their Hickory-Smoked Cheddar-Style Spread and their Mexi Cheddar-Style Dip.  They were both delicious.  We would have bought some immediately, but he wasn't there to sell, just to give out free taste samples.  We are definitely going to look for these non-dairy "cheese" products in our local market.

I also bought two more cookbooks from the people at Book Publishing Company.  I purchased Buddha's Table: Thai Feasing Vegetarian Style and Cookin' Southern, Vegetarian Style.

Elementary School Poetry 180 - Week Three

11 - Dream Variations - Langston Hughes
12 - The Bat - Theodore Roethke
13 - Did I Miss Anything? - Tom Wayman
14 - Blackberry Eating - Galway Kinnell
15 - Casey at the Bat - Ernest Thayer

• I found "Dream Variations" in Poetry for Young People: Langston Hughes edited by David Roessel & Arnold Rampersad.
• The Bat and Did I Miss Anything? both come from Poetry 180.
• Another resource that I have been using is A Poem for Every Day! by Susan Moger. In her book I found "Blackberry Eating" by Galway Kinnell.
• Casey at the Bat is from Middle School Poetry 180 and it is also in A Poem for Every Day!.

Elementary School Poetry 180 - Week Two

6 - The Arrow and the Song - Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
7 - "Do You Have Any Advice For Those of Us Just Starting Out?" - Ron Koertge
8 - Numbers - Mary Cornish
9 - Ozymandias - Percy Bysshe Shelley
10 - At the Un-National Monument Along the Canadian Border - William Stafford

• The Arrow and the Song came from Middle School Poetry 180, as did Ozymandias.
• The other three poems all come from Poetry 180: "Do You Have Any Advice For Those of Us Just Starting Out?", Numbers, and At the Un-National Monument Along the Canadian Border.
• I'm thinking now that "Ozymandias" should be pulled.  It just didn't seem to work that well out loud, and the students didn't get it.  There was no "aha" moment with this one from any of my students.

Elementary School Poetry 180 - Week One

1 - Introduction to Poetry - Billy Collins
2 - When I Heard the Learn'd Astronomer - Walt Whitman
3 - Jabberwocky - Lewis Carroll
4 - "A narrow Fellow in the Grass" - Emily Dickinson
5 - Lines - Martha Collins

• I had to start with a Billy Collins poem, which he did as well with Introduction to Poetry.
• For day two, I borrowed an idea from Middle School Poetry 180 for When I Heard the Learn'd Astronomer, where I also found Jabberwocky and "A narrow Fellow in the Grass". The Emily Dickinson poem has always been a personal favorite of mine. I think after I read some other riddle poems, I'll go back and re-read this one to see if students can figure out what it's about. As the fourth poem I read, they weren't quite yet ready for it, I think.
• Lines also comes from Poetry 180.

Elementary School Poetry 180

This year I decided to take on a poetry project with my students.  I was inspired by Poetry 180, a program established by Billy Collins while he was the Poet Laureate of the United States.  He deliberately chose poems with high school students in mind.  I have kept some of those poems to read to my elementary school students.  I  have not considered any poems that seemed inappropriate to be read to a ten-year-old.  Thus, many of the poems that deal with romantic relationships, which are apropos for high school students, just wouldn't interest fifth graders, or would embarrass them.  But, generally, I've been much influenced by the choices that Billy Collins made.  I've steered away from poems that seem too old-fashioned, definitely dipping often from the modern era.  And I've chosen mostly free verse.  I want to broaden what students think of poetry, and steer them away from some of the sing-songy rhymed poems that are frequently aimed at them.

I also discovered another teacher had a similar idea for middle school students.  Tom Darling has a poetry blog called Middle School Poetry 180.  I have borrowed liberally from the poems he has posted on his blog.

I have a number of poetry books as well, and I have been finding delightful poems there as well to share with my students.

I was hesitant to blog about this at first, but I decided I just need to take that leap and share what I've been doing.  So far, it has been a successful experiment.  It only takes a minute or two out of each school day, but many of the poems I've chosen have connected with some student in my class.

I would welcome suggestions from anyone who is interested in poetry.  Feel free to leave comments on my posts about poems you think every fifth grade student should know before they go off to middle school.  And if you're a teacher, I'd be interested in any stories you'd like to share about your experiences sharing poems with students.

Haibun

I had gone away to write, a solo writer's retreat.  I stayed in a beautiful lodge and I wrote.  But I was restless, so I walked into the neighboring woods, and in a grove where the light was warm and golden, reflecting the autumn leaves, I saw a dryad scamper back to her oak and disappear into it.  I stood until I noticed the light beginning to fade, and the colors of the grove dimmed.  I walked up to the oak, touched its bark, said, "Thank you," and "Goodbye."  Then I walked back to the lodge, more silently than I had come.

in this august place
the trees spoke to me - and I
found ears to listen

* * *

This haibun was written in response to a prompt at Big Tent Poetry.

An Open Letter on Bad Parenting

First of all, don't show up to Back-to-School Night.  Don't show your child that his or her learning is important.  Don't provide any support to your child's teacher by reinforcing the message that education is important and that you are going to work as a partner with your child's teacher in making sure your child has a quality educational experience.  When asked about why you didn't attend Back-to-School Night, make excuses that are about you and how busy you are; this gives permission to teachers to make the same excuses to you about how busy they are and why they're not providing your child with a quality education.  Or, make the excuse that you didn't attend Back-to-School Night because you already know everything because the same teacher taught your child's older sibling.  Teachers like this excuse too because then they can give it as a rationale for why they haven't changed anything at all in their teaching; they can use the same old books, techniques, lessons, etc. that they used for your older child.  Teachers don't want to innovate or improve their learning; they much prefer being lazy and just going through the same tired motions year after year.

Second, don't respond to notes that the teacher writes home to you about how your child is doing in school.  All teachers operate under the lawyerly "silence equals assent" assumption.  This just makes it easier for us to send notes home, knowing that you agree wholeheartedly with what we have written.  It isn't necessary to respond and let us know that you too are concerned, or that you've spoken with your child about the problem and you've given them some help and advice on how to correct it.  Also, it's even more helpful to send the note back offering excuses about why your child isn't doing well.  Some blanket statement about how responsible they are even though the note was about how they're not handling their responsibilities as a student is most helpful to the teacher.  Obviously, we were just mistaken and didn't have that crucial knowledge. What we were seeing firsthand in the classroom is superseded by your statement about how responsible they are.  We are sorry for bothering you to get this important information and we can now rest assured that the problem will correct itself.

Third, go directly to the principal with your concerns about your child's teacher.  We teachers don't want to be bothered by pesky parents and their petty concerns.  Show your child that it's best to go over someone's head to get what you want.  Dealing fairly and respectfully with the person that you have an issue with is a waste of time, especially if it's a teacher, because they are notorious for not listening to you, being unfair, and generally being difficult and confrontational.  We understand that you are just saving us all a great deal of precious time by not speaking with us first.  We actually enjoy getting called into the principal's office to deal with parent concerns.  We are especially delighted when this occurs with parents who didn't show up to Back-to-School Night, who have not contacted the teacher at all in any positive way so far this year, including not returning the note sent home the second week of school asking your preferences for teacher-parent communication, who have not responded to notes sent home, and who have responded to other notes with rationalizations and excuses about their child's problems.

[I'll just apologize now for the sarcasm, before anyone writes me any comments.  Please understand that all this comes from a place of hurt, which has turned to anger, thus the sarcasm.  I'm not proud of it, but I had to get this off my chest.]

Breakthrough

I'm having difficulty with the word breakthrough
it's as if I'm having an argument with it
and, to be honest, it's not a fair, rational argument
because breakthrough just rubs me the wrong way
like someone you just don't like
because everything about them just turns you off

granted, I did concede there is wisdom in through
you have to work through your problems
it usually fails if you avoid them or try to go around
looking for some shortcut, an easier path
but everything else about breakthrough rankles me

military breakthroughs are violent, penetrative acts
and, frankly, so are medical breakthroughs
we like to think of doctors as healers
following the oath of first doing no harm
but that's just a pretty myth to believe in

surgeons can do amazing things, I know that now
but to an eight-year-old, they're just butchers
slicing you open, breaking you to fix you
and I have the scars to prove it, so don't argue
don't give me some line like surgeons save lives

a surgeon didn't save my father's life
that bit of useless butchery just drained him more
and the cancer took him that much faster
so I don't want to hear your thoughtless philosophy
because if you do, I'll show you my scars
and I'll bare my heart to you and show you
the hole there left by my father's passing

a surgeon didn't save my life when I was eight
but left me forever changed, limping along
broken inside, and knowing I had to be broken
so that I could be fixed, like some faulty machine
and all these years, the mending has been slow
accomplished without the help of any surgeon
the daily tenderness supplied by nurses and my parents

* * * * *

This poem was written in response to the breakthrough prompt at Writer's Island.

Need to Know

Lucy, there is nothing you need
to know about me. Keep dreaming
your British Empire dreams.
Keep believing you are safe,
even as I stand here, watching
you sleep.
                Your dreams will soon turn
to nightmares, if I stay too long
before our caress. It will not hurt.
If only you knew how delicious
you are, the iron bite of your blood
softened by the sweetness
of your soul.
                   There is one thing
you will know. You are mine forever.

* * * * *

This poem was written in response to the "Need to Know" prompt at We Write Poems.

I have been completely unsuccessful at posting a link to my poem over at We Write Poems.  It's always worked before.  I must be doing something wrong, but for the life of me, I can't figure out what it is.  My browser did crash while I was on the site, and my laptop shut down and restarted, so I figured that fixed the problem.  Maybe it didn't.  I hope people will find my poem.

If only

If only understanding
wasn't a gerund
mixed race child
of noun and verb
a chimera
a misfit
an outsider
looking in at us
with wisdom
in her eyes
and sadness
because we can't see
what she sees

if only learning
was as easy as
breathing
automatic
not a thought at all
really
just a fundamental fact

if only loving
was as simple as
picking up a stone
and holding it
in your hand
and holding it in your hand
was the same as
holding it in your heart
and being held
by the stone too

if only I could be content
with just being
if I could get over
connecting doing
with happiness
writing a poem
and being satisfied
with the
creating

* * * * *

This poem was written in response to the "If only" prompt at Writer's Island and the "finding words from our everyday lives" prompt at Big Tent Poetry.

The "if only" phrase kept bouncing around in my head, but I didn't know what to do with it. Then I remembered a note I had jotted down in my lesson plan book in response to a question one of my students asked about the word "understanding". He had identified it as a noun on a homework assignment and was wondering why it wasn't correct. I explained it was a gerund, and told my class that I'd research it further and that I'd teach a lesson on gerunds, which is why I had written it down. And those two words, understanding and gerund, from my everyday life were the inspiration to go somewhere with "if only".

End of Summer Update

Tomorrow I go back to my day job, teaching.  The last couple of weeks I have been alternately working really hard to get ready for my new group of students on one hand and not thinking about teaching at all and trying to enjoy the last of my time off on the other.

I have also been thinking about what a good time I had writing poems earlier this summer, and realizing how much I missed it, so I'm going to try to come back to this blog and honor it, the work/play I was doing, and all the wonderful people who came here to read my poems.

I did write other things this summer.  My mother watched my two boys for a couple of days and I stayed in a nearby hotel and wrote.  I worked on my memoirs/autobiography.  My father wrote to my brother and I before he passed and I value (that's just not a strong enough word) what he shared with me about his childhood and growing up years.  I plan on being around for a long, long time, but I am writing for my sons, as my father did for my brother and me.

I also got back on track with my novel that I started last November as part of NaNoWriMo 2009.  I read a really good book on writing: Write Great Fiction: Plot & Structure by James Scott Bell and got to work on revising my novel.  I'm happy to say that I did finish what I was calling version 1.5 of my novel and did send it off to CreateSpace for my free proof copy.  I didn't make the end of June deadline for my free proof copy, but it was worth every penny to get that copy and see my novel as a real book.  My wife is reading it now.

I have since gone back and rethought my first attempt at writing a novel for NaNoWriMo 2008.  I started that novel over again, which is why I haven't been sharing any poems here.  I just haven't been writing any lately, but I'm ready to come back now.

And somewhere in there, I got an email from the people over at Poets for Living Waters.  They accepted my poem "Immature" and put in on their Open Mic page.

Two Poems for We Write Poems

Mad About Science

the foundation of life
carbon
its unique ability
to bond

water
two molecules of hydrogen
and one of oxygen
the essential solvent

just add nitrogen
and you have the four
basic building blocks
of life

trace amounts of many other elements
but there it is
the solution
that life created
the chemical soup
of which we're all made
formed in some primordial sea
long, long ago

as with any recipe
balance of ingredients
is necessary for success

too much water
we drown
too little water
and drought

we measure
we think
by-products of our
nervous system
our backbone
of thought and feeling
we know
happiness and sorrow

and then
thinking about water again
vapor   liquid   ice
for good or bad
how it is that
wisdom is glacial

* * * * *

Tanka

completing another
circle around the sun
my birthday again
and, I, as per usual
obsess about my waistline

* * * * *

I wrote "Mad About Science" in response to the Wordle prompt at We Write Poems.  Then I realized I had used all the words, except three: obsess, birthday, and circle.  So, I used those three words for "Tanka".

Changes

he asked me if I felt trapped
did I make the right choices in life
would I go back and make changes

he wasn't lonely - maybe just a little sad
about who he is - something he can't change
so he asked me if I felt trapped

but I don't think he was asking about me
I was just a cipher - a way to ask himself
did I make the right choices in life

it got me thinking nonetheless - he did ask
but no I don't feel trapped in parenthood
I would not go back and make changes

* * * * *

This poem was written in response to the change prompt at Writer's Island.  I also attempted to use the cascade form which I read about on Poetic Asides.

Reflecting

I'm always looking back,
hanging around as I do.
That's what I'm here for.

I see you as no one else does.
I look you straight in the eye.
I'm always looking back

at you when you're looking at me.
I'm a good listener too.
I listen to you sing in the shower

and I pay special attention
when you practice asking your boss
for that raise we both know you deserve.

I wait for you to come home.
I'm always here for you,
morning or night. Just turn on the light

so I can see you better.
You're looking tired now. Time
to brush your teeth and go to sleep.

* * * * *

This poem was written in response to a prompt to write a "looking back" poem at Poetic Asides back in April.

Birthday

Today's my birthday.  I'm off to a friend's wedding, and then some time with my family in Santa Rosa.  I'll be offline for the weekend, but then I'll get caught up on Monday.  I want to send a big "Thank you" to everyone who's been reading my poems here and leaving comments.  It's been delightful - and I am much grateful.

Two Poems for Big Tent Poetry

for the dreamers

a message resent
this time full
of praise

for the minds
that can see through
the cloud-dark sky
to the stars beyond

who walk gently
on the Earth
but part the herds

making them tremble
those greedy and hungry
those ignorant and dull

those dark comforts
we know are dangerous
in their ease

gravity holds us all down
but starlight makes us shine
if reflected in our eyes

* * * * *

This poem was written in response to a Wordle prompt at Big Tent Poetry.

* * * * *

An Angry Pantoum

Anger, oh my foe, my friend,
how is it you so move me?
It is not a dance I enjoy.
Why are you with me still?

How is it you so move me
to actions of shame and courage?
Why are you with me still
though I have worked to be rid of you?

To actions of shame and courage,
two-faced, you have spurred me on.
Though I have worked to be rid of you,
yet you cling to my fragile heart.

Two-faced, you have spurred me on,
when you should have - and not.
Yet you cling to my fragile heart,
Anger, oh my foe, my friend.

* * * * *

This poem was written in response to the Angry Pantoum prompt at Big Tent Poetry.

Two Poems for Writer's Island

The Gift

birds have flight

fish breathe underwater

plants make their own food

nature has bestowed

the gift on all

but in each

it takes a different form

we have our minds

and everything that stems

from that gift

but now I have

to wonder if

we've used ours well

we've invented devices

so that we can fly

and breathe underwater

we've even gone farther

than all other living things

into orbit and beyond

but what of compassion?

we have not done things

with, but for

we copied the birds

we imitated the fish

and the plants?

we need them

but we don't want

to be like them

we bent them

to our will

to serve our needs

lower than pets

stuck in pots

arrayed in fields

concentration camps

that don't need fences

to keep the prisoners

cultivation now to me

seems like subjugation

domination not dominion

you might say

plants don't feel

we're not doing them harm

you might be right

maybe the plants

are happy to serve us

you might be wrong

maybe the plants scream

at us but we cannot hear

there are waves

we cannot see or hear

out gift doesn't extend that far

maybe it's foolish

to think that plants can feel --

personification

see, even I do it

thinking I can impose

my perspective on others

* * * * *

This poem was written in response to The Gift prompt at Writer's Island.

* * * * *


The Key

my house key looks a lot
like my classroom key
I get them mixed up
all the time

what does that say
about me
and my priorities?

their shape is similar
but they are noticeably
different in size
so why don't I notice?

when the key doesn't fit
I know it's the wrong one
it's tactile, not visual

(I can't even talk
about my car key
that symbol of shame
and complicity

because the closest
gas station to my house
is Arco, a BP brand)

what hangs me up though
is that definite article
I want to know
what the key to life is

is it love? is that
the key? or is it
fidelity to that love?

or is it just silly
of me to play
grammar games with the phrase?
as if that were cleverness

I've already talked
of different keys, so one
is obviously not the answer

my work, my home,
my car which transports me
between the two, and my wife
who holds the key to my heart

the physical keys
and the metaphorical
are all splayed about me

so how do I choose?
or are all my choice?
and thus all are
ways to unlock me

now I understand, I think,
that the key is not
the answer, but the question

* * * * *

This poem was written in response to The Key prompt at Writer's Island.

Walking

To walk in other's shoes,
it is to stories and poems
that I turn.

I enjoy giving
myself up, living through
their lies, loves, and laughter.

Strangers in history,
like surrogate ancestors,
are my touchstones.

Sometimes, so scared,
I edge down passages
in my imagination.

While my true ancestors,
Scottish fullers all, walked
on wool for their trade.

Would we have sat, sharing
stories, soothing our feet
around a fire pit?

My mind rebels
at a world of one people, one faith,
but it was so.

And then I return
to my life, full of sunlight
and deeper shadows.

I adopt a persona,
and write a story
not mine, and yet true.

Who shall I be today,
and what paths, false and true,
shall I tread with you?

* * * * *

This poem was written in response to the Walk a Mile prompt at We Write Poems.

No Deadlines

Mother Nature has no deadlines.
Her methods are ancient,
older than calendars.
She has no need of them,
and has managed beautifully
without them for eons.

The water falls from the sky,
life-bringing precipitate,
And it flows to the sea.
It doesn't care when it gets there.
There is no rush for that tributary
to join another, to enter the bay.

The Earth will spin and orbit,
and the Moon about her.
They take their time with their dance.
They move to rhythms we cannot hear,
or perhaps we've shunned them for our own,
or papered them over with lines of death.

* * * * *

This poem was written in response to the day fifteen prompt at Poetic Asides to write a deadline poem.

Immature

  i

the door is
a barrier
that must be
conquered

I swear
this is what
my son
must be thinking

every time
I close
the bathroom door
in our house

  ii

why do we
erect barriers
except for privacy
and shame

we close doors
pull down shades
and build fences
around our homes

all this makes
sense to me
the difference between
adult and child

  iii

barriers provide protection
so we are building
a fence along our
border with Mexico

and Arizona passed a law
a barrier made of words
to punish those
who crossed that line

three days after
we began spilling oil
without barriers
into a gulf not ours

* * * * *

This poem is a response to the doors prompt at We Write Poems.

Writer's Meme

1. What's the last thing you wrote?
I finished a poem yesterday which I'm going to post tomorrow.  It's called "Immature".

2. Is it any good?
I don't know.  I'm not a very good judge of my own poetry.  Or rather I'm a very good judge of what's a good poem, but I'm willing to put things out there that are just okay in my book.  I think it's a good poem.  It started as a response to the door prompt at We Write Poems and I struggled with it.  It went somewhere in the first draft that just didn't work out.  Then I cut out the last section.  But I still couldn't finish it; I could have left it as it was, but it still seemed fragmentary to me.  Then I cut out the second section, which left it a complete poem, but not a very serious one, and it wanted to be more serious.

3. What's the first thing you ever wrote that you still have?
I don't have any of the poems I wrote in high school, but I do have some that I wrote in a poetry writing class I took with George Barlow at De Anza College back in the mid-eighties.

4. Favorite genre of writing?
Currently, poetry.  But I enjoyed writing a novel back in November for NaNoWriMo, and I'm sure I'll do so again.  I'm also working on my memoirs for my boys.

5. How often do you get writer's block?
I don’t get writer's block.  I sometimes get stuck trying to get a poem where I want it to go, but I'm not "blocked" in that sense.

6. How do you fix it?
I'll write total garbage, just to get something down on paper.  Or I'll set it aside and work on something else.  If I'm stuck on one thing, I've got all kinds of ideas for other poems or writing projects that I could work on.

7. Do you save everything you write?
Yes.  I'm a hoarder.  (My poor wife).

8. How do you feel about revision?
Revision is absolutely necessary.  Some poems do come out pretty well in a first draft, but I don't think I've left anything untouched - at least, not recently.  I may have when I was younger and didn't understand how important revision can be.  Other poems just aren't worth revision; they just don't work - and can't be made to work.

9. What's your favorite thing that you've written?
I couldn't choose.  (It seems self-indulgent to me).  Or rather - the last thing I wrote is my favorite, so my favorite keeps changing.

My favorite blog post was about NaNoWriMo, which got excerpted by Renaissance Learning in their Extraordinary Educators newsletter.

10. What's everyone else's favorite thing that you've written?
I wrote a poem a day in April as part of the Poem a Day Challenge at Poetic Asides.  I asked a colleague of mine, also a writer, and my wife to choose their favorites.  Of the fifteen or so poems I gave them to read, they each chose seven that they liked.  They agreed on four of them: "Pacific Grove", "I love my country", "Reflecting", and "According to the waves".

11. What writing projects are you working on right now?
I’m writing poems in response to various websites who are posting prompts, and posting them here.  I'm also trying to work my way through the prompts posted in April at Read Write Poem, which I didn't discover until the last week of the month.

And this summer, now that I'm not working, I want to write more of my memoirs, a writing project for my two sons.

12. What's one genre you have never written, and probably never will?
Romance.

13. Do you write for a living?
No.  I'm a teacher, which does include a fair amount of writing, but that's not what they pay me for.

14. Quote something you've written, the first thing to pop into your mind.
We forgot
we had freedom of conscience
before we had
freedom of religion.

* * * * *

I got this from Writer's Meme, a blog post by Poet Mom.

Vocation Island

We've put treasure on islands,
and prisons, dark houses
swept by lighthouses.

We've put fantasy on islands,
and reality shows that prove
every one is a part
of the main, that when
you dive down, you find
the island is just a piece
of the continent.

We like the metaphor
of separation,
the vacation island,
the going away
that makes us
long for home,
then the bittersweet
return to vocation island.

These islands,
these bits of sand
and rock we cling to,
surrounded by waters
too vast to fathom,
we like them.


We like our islands,
and we cling to them still,
for peace, quiet, chaos, noise,
rising and falling,
yin and yang,
anima and animus.


But they aren't separate:
the water and the land.
They are one.


We walk along this shoreline,
this meeting of land, water, and sky,
bathed by sunlight, and watch
the tides drawn by the reflected light
of our little brother island
across the Armstrong strait.

* * * * *

This poem was written in response to the day fourteen prompt at Poetic Asides to write a poem titled "(blank) island" for the Poem a Day Challenge back in April.

The Alchemist's Daughter

I wish you would not fondle

the bottles of tincture,

daughter, and disturb the pattern

of my work. It seems futile

for me to ask you not to purse

your lips at every offered proof.

Oh, father, what tender proof

could I offer to you how fond

I am of thinking and pursing

my lips as I do. Your tincture

bottles are just my hand's futile

attempts of finding a pattern.

Do not speak to me of patterns

of thought as I seek a proof

of what is probably an alchemical futility.

Have no doubt that I touch and fondle

the cool glass, too, of my tinctures,

but I do not slip them into my purse.

Ashamed I am that in my purse

of such beautiful handwoven pattern

I have secreted a necessary tincture

and here in my hand is the proof

of it. See how I fondle

your work which I know is not futile.

Oh, daughter, I find it is futile

for me to be angry of your purse

and what it hides. You fondle

my heart; that is our pattern.

Of your love and your shame, no proof

I need from you, only my tincture.

Father, it is a beautiful tincture.

It was foolish and futile

of me to take it. Here is the proof

in my hand, taken from my purse.

Your thought, your work, is your pattern.

It is that, and not me, you fondle.

My work's proof is in this tincture,

which you have fondled, yet it was futile

to hide it in your purse, my love, my living pattern.

* * * * *

This poem was written in response to the May 17 Wordle prompt at Big Tent Poetry.

I wrote the first four stanzas and then got interrupted. It took me a while to get back to it and finish it.

Dinner at Millennium

We go out to celebrate and dine

on an exquisite vegan meal. Some wine

for you, my love, while I

will be satisfied, more than fine,

with Pinot Noir grape juice.

As usual, long before the clock reads nine,

though we have talked of our selves,

we both know how splendid, how fine

it is to be parents, and we talk

of our sons, and our hands entwine.

I find myself rich in love,

as I am yours and you are mine.

* * * * *

This poem is a ghazal, written in response to the WD Poetic Form Challenge at Poetic Asides.

It is clear to me now, having read other's poems, that I misunderstood the form of the ghazal. It should have a refrain that repeats, not the rhyme scheme that I used. Additionally, each couplet is supposed to stand alone, but I have carried thoughts from one stanza to the next. Oh well...

I did write about wine and love, and did allude to my name in the last stanza. This is an intriguing form, which I am sure I will attempt again.

"I love my country"

I love my country
but not everything
she does.

She's a beautiful
beast, but too big,
sprawling.

United, but not really
unified, the oxymoron
of one
out of many.

A paradox, a chimera,
part myth and reality,
pride and disappointment,
spirit and religion,
though we're supposed
to keep that apart
from the rest.

We forgot we had
freedom of conscience
before we had
freedom of religion.

We are spirit and body.
We are soul incarnate.
We are one.

We must stop fighting
ourselves - one part
against another.

We are unified.
Some of us have forgotten that.
Some haven't learned it yet.
Though some lived it once,
they have strayed from the path.

We must get back
to what we once were
in the beginning
to be what we need -

We must again plant
the roots of conscience
in fertile soil,
in every region
and climate,
then protect them, nurture them,
do what we need to do,
to be what we need to be:
out of those many, one.

* * * * *

This poem was written in response to the love/anti-love prompt at Poetic Asides for day thirteen of April's Poem a Day Challenge.

Behind the Piano

She knew she had simply

poked the piano.

Then the annual school concert -

all the girls fear

her heart, trembling limbs

and burning eyes -

Feeling her whole hand faint,

notes fumbled and slurred

into each other.

At the musical evenings,

she had played and sung,

hoping each time afresh

to be able to reproduce

the effects which came so easily

when she was alone.

But she could not discover

the secret of getting

rid of her nervousness.

Only twice had she succeeded -

at the last school concert

when she had been too miserable

to be nervous, and once

she had sung "Chanson de Florian"

in a way that had astonished

her own listening ear -

the notes had laughed

and thrilled out into the air

and come back to her

from the wall behind

the piano.

* * * * *

This is a found poem in response to the Erasures prompt at We Write Poems. I did use Pointed Roofs by Dorothy Miller Richardson as my source text.

I've Been Away

I've been away from my blog for a few days because I've been so busy with end of the year stuff. The last day of our school year is this Friday! While I'm looking forward to the end of the year and the beginning of my summer, I have to get those report cards done. Talk about a deadline! I've been reading papers and grading quizzes and getting all of it recorded.

I essentially worked all day Saturday and all day Monday, Memorial Day. I took Sunday off, which I'll blog about tomorrow. I'm almost there. I'm done for tonight, which is why I'm here, adding an entry for today. But now I'm tired, and I'm going to go fall asleep reading.

"in the aud/i/tor/i/um"

in the aud/i/tor/i/um

for another music assembly

it's too late in the year for this

we've all got spring fever

and it's just too boring to listen

to musicians tell us how to say

music in five different languages

just play your music

and transport us somewhere else

because that's what we want now

have you forgotten how to read

your audience - or do you dismiss

that because they're just children

is this just another gig for you

that you want to be done with

because you played "Libertango"

beautifully and I wanted to be free

* * * * *

This poem is a response to the We Write Poems prompt to write a poem after listening to some music.

Pacific Grove

In the excitement
of that first junior high
overnight field trip,
I ran up the hill by myself,
ahead of everyone else.
It was after dinner,
and I discovered the bus driver
playing the piano in the lobby
of our lodge.
He stopped
when he realized
I was there.
No one else heard.
I was the audience,
solitary, unwelcome.
I had broken something magical.
This is what I learned
on that field trip,
not the marine biology
that was the purpose:
Some people are far more
than they appear,
certainly more
than the work they do.

* * * * *

This poem was written in response to day twelve's prompt to write about a city at Poetic Asides. It was one of the five poems that I submitted to Robert Brewer at the end of the month.

Stereocilia

Things could be worse

for me I guess

At least my vision's still

good - and I'm getting better

at reading lips

Have you ever noticed

the overwhelming beauty

of human lips

and their diversity

I want to make a

documentary on lips

I can see their softness

and their strength

the supple flexibility

and the restraint

how small they are

where they leave off

and become face

I hope my doctor doesn't mind

that I don't look her in the eye

She must be used to it

still - I don't want her

to think me rude

but I can't afford

not to see

what she's saying

because I can only

hear about a third

of her words

She's telling me about the bundled

structures they've seen under

the electron microscope

so small even light waves

are too big - and how

they resemble stereocilia

Then I ask her

how soon a clinically

relevant therapy

will be ready

She tells me ten years

It's then that

my eyes wander

and now without

focus and attention

I may hear every third word

but I take none of them in

I'm not looking

to fill in the gaps

either

It's only when

I hear her tone of voice

change that I bring

my eyes up to hers

and the emotion

I see there

makes me cry

from them both

* * * * *

This poem was written in response to the May 10 prompt at Big Tent Poetry about "listening to language." I was inspired by an article I read on Digg called "New Research Paves the Way for Cure for Deafness" which accounts for some of the language I used, including the title, as well as the theme.

Speaking of Boxes

My classroom is a box
If I were teaching math
I'd call it a rectangular
prism - but it's just a box
for teaching and learning

My dilemma now is
telling my students
to be themselves
and then minutes later
telling them to conform

What am I modeling
for them? I encourage
autonomy and then I
assert my authority

No wonder they're confused
even though I know
confusion is a good place
from which to begin learning

Is it a balancing act
one box in each hand?
one of reason and one of emotion
Or is it one big box
that is our burden?
What to put in and what to take out
our primary concern.

If the classroom is
that one big box
then what is our responsibility
in that shared space?
What do we add?
What do we take away?

And our houses and apartments -
what of those boxes?
And the blocks we live on?
The grids we drive on?

Maybe I'm just as confused
as my students.
Perhaps the box is
the wrong metaphor
for the classroom
too static
too linear
limiting rather
than expansive

I should have recycled the box
and moved on to real geometry
measuring the world
and talked of spheres

* * * * *

This poem was inspired by the boxes prompt at We Write Poems.

I'll Show You

You left your back gate unlatched,
when you took out the recycling.
Even if you locked it, wood gates
and fences don't stop me.

I'm in your backyard now,
peering into your child's
bedroom, watching the slow
rise and fall of the sheets.

You think you're safe.
You think you're in control.
But you're wrong. Just you
wait until I show you how.

* * * * *

This poem was written in response to day ten's prompt to write a horror poem over at Poetic Asides.

This also works as the day number three prompt over at ReadWritePoem to "write about something that scares you."

Media Diet

Over Mother's Day weekend, I read The Red Pyramid by Rick Riordan. I still haven't finished all of the Percy Jackson books, but I wanted to read this one quickly before all of my students had already read it. In case you're wondering, I'm about halfway through The Titan's Curse. The Red Pyramid is a good book. I certainly enjoyed it. If you liked the Percy Jackson books, then you'll probably like this one too. It has many of the same elements, young teenage heroes, mythology, action, saving the world, etc. And I liked how it was told with the alternating voices of the brother and sister main characters.

I saw Iron Man 2. I liked it. I didn't love it, but it was a good sequel. I wouldn't say better than the first, but, as sequels go, this was a good one. It had a lot of the same energy that made the first one enjoyable. It's worth seeing on the big screen. Plunk down your ten bucks, and then another ten bucks for popcorn and a soda, and enjoy.

I'm watching season two of Lost streaming on NetFlix. I'm late to the game as a fan of Lost, but man it's a good show. Last night, I watched episode 16, "The Whole Truth". I liked what we saw in the flashbacks of Sun and Jin, and Ana Lucia and Sayid as they go to find out if the guy they have locked up in the hatch is an "other" or not.

And I recently finished watching season four of Doctor Who, so now I'm all caught up and ready to start watching the new season with the new Doctor.

Today, at school, we had an assembly where we got to see this year's school play, Seussical, Jr. They've really put together a great production this year. Kudos to the students and parents who've been working hard on this play. I thoroughly enjoyed it and was pleased with how well the messages of Dr. Seuss came through. A person's a person no matter how small.

Message in a Bottle

Voyager was a bottle,
and it carried a message inside,
a gold disc,
ductile, malleable,
conducting bits of science
and art to the stars,
already quaint in our eyes,
in our world of wireless
everything except radio.

And now Mr Hawking warns
us that was a mistake,
as if some weren't already
thinking the same,
like Mr Leinster,
a science fiction writer
of the forties,
who imagined two space-faring
civilizations meeting in space,
and then covering the trail
back to their respective worlds.

Do we need to fear the unknown?
Aren't the odds so
(pardon the pun) astronomical
that we needn't worry?
A bit of hopeful thinking
just in case,
isn't that what a message
in a bottle is?

* * * * *

This poem was written in response to the "message in a bottle" prompt at Writer's Island.

Poetry Prompts

Robert is continuing to post a Wednesday poetry prompt at Poetic Asides.

There appear to be three different groups that have continued something like what was going on over at ReadWritePoem. We Write Poems has a Thursday poetry prompt.

Big Tent Poetry has a Monday prompt.

And Writer's Island has a Saturday prompt.

I should have no trouble finding some kind of prompt to keep me writing. I'm sure there's more out there. I need to quit browsing and start writing.

"I walk, blinded by"

I walk, blinded by
white
hoping I don't stumble

this world is so dark
I can only
survive

by always moving, looking
down
at where to place my feet

my own dark feet -
who have they left
behind?

who has fallen along the
way?
are there yet some ahead

of me? I cannot see
their footprints in the
shifting

sand that threatens
thirst
and a slow, crushing death

so I keep trudging
towards that hope, that
dream

of flight
of magic
of release

* * * * *

This poem was written in response to day six's prompt to write an ekphrastic poem. I Chose "Flight of the Witches" by Francisco de Goya as my inspiration.

Poem a Day Challenge Submission

I emailed Robert Brewer over at Poetic Asides what I think are the five best poems I wrote last month. While I think it would be cool if he chose one of my poems, I'm not going to get my hopes up. He's only going to choose 50, and I'm sure he's going to get submissions of at least 500 poems.

Whether he chooses one of my poems or not, I had a great deal of fun writing poems in April. I've never done anything like this before, but I truly enjoyed it. I've been writing poetry since my high school days, but I've never considered it a serious practice.

I took a poetry writing class with George Barlow at De Anza Community College, and I had one poem published in the student anthology the college put out that year, but that's the extent of my poetry publication.

I did try to take another poetry writing class when I went to UC Berkeley, but I was rejected. You had to submit a few poems to be considered for the class, which was being taught by Thom Gunn. I didn't make the cut. I kept writing poems, but once I graduated, my writing tapered off.

I have written a poem here and there over the years since, and as often as I've been able to manage it, I've written poems in my classroom when we've had Susan Sibbet from California Poets in the Schools come in to teach poetry writing.

But the Poem a Day Challenge certainly whet my appetite for more, and I'm having a blast writing poems, reading poems, and seeing how blogging and the internet are changing how people are writing and reading poems.

Did I Join Too Late?

So, this evening, I'm checking out all the poetry blogs that I've just discovered, and Lemon Hound mentions Harriet, kindly providing a link, and I go check it out. Lo and behold, it's a blog over at the Poetry Foundation, and it's changing into something else, not really a blog with places for people to comment anymore.

And, mid-month or so, I discovered ReadWritePoem, which also seems to have become defunct. I was very excited to discover it and learn that they hosted NaPoWriMo, which I didn't know about until I started poking around more as I was in the midst of the Poem a Day Challenge over at Poetic Asides.

And for reasons that I cannot find, ReadWritePoem "is no longer active." I'm not sure what that phrase means, nor do I understand why it's so.

Is the poetic universe sending me a message? Did I miss the boat? I'm just now finding all these great things that have been happening online, but they're changing on me just as I find them.

I'm trying not to be discouraged, because, frankly, I had a blast writing thirty poems in thirty days. And, had I known about NaPoWriMo sooner, I would have attempted sixty. As it is, I'm challenging myself to use those prompts to write another thirty poems over the course of May.

National Poetry Month may be over, but I'm just getting warmed up. I'm going to keep blogging, and now that I've started posting some of my poems, I'm going to keep doing that as well.

I don't know... I guess I was just starting to feel like I was participating in a poetry community, just getting my feet wet, and then they closed the pool for the season. Sorry, kid, you came too late.

Day Two: Water Poems

Here are some more poems and blogs I discovered:
* "Flood Stories" by Joseph Harker, who blogs at naming constellations
* "like water" by Chev Shire, who's blog is Whatever and ever
* "Regular White Paper" by Laura Kayne, who's blog is Life Distilled
* "Mixed Bathing" by Nancy Posey, who's website is Discriminating Reader. Her poem is not posted there; I read it at Poetic Asides.

I also like what I saw over at Pens and Pages Writer's Guild. Besides all the writer's blogs I've begun to follow, I'm also discovering many people who write about what they're reading.

Thirteen Ways

I
Less than a day's drive
from the snowy mountains
sits the city of San Francisco.

II
Water has three states,
a secular trinity
that provides life.

III
The autumn winds pull the fog
through the Golden Gate.

IV
Hydrogen and oxygen
are one.
Liquid and ice and vapor
are one.

V
I do not know which to prefer
the beauty of thirst
or the beauty of slaking it.
Lifting the full glass
or emptying it.

VI
Icicles filled the picture
above December's grid,
those barbaric teeth
of old man winter,
or are they instead
translucent carrots
growing in the sky?

VII
O buff men of the city
surrounded by golden-skinned birds,
do you watch them as they drink
their vitamin water and sports drinks
after their runs along the bay?

VIII
I know the taste
of accented water -
the teas and coffees
and their rhythms
of afternoon and morning.

IX
As the fog burned off,
its disappearing edge
was natural magic.

X
At the sight of the marine layer,
giving everything a gray light,
even the purples of pigeons
were a welcome flash of color.

XI
He walked across the bridge,
stopping to look out at Alcatraz
-no glass cage for him-
and the fear
of too much freedom
and too much restraint
was the fog's shadow on him.

XII
The sixteen rivers are moving.
The bay must be alive.

XIII
Then leaving in the morning
for afternoon snow-
and it was going to snow
they said,
watching the evergreens turn white.

* * * * *

This poem was inspired by the prompt to "write a water poem" at Poetic Asides.

More Poems and Interesting Blogs

I just emailed a friend of mine with seventeen of the poems I wrote for the Poem a Day Challenge in April, asking him for his input. I don't know which five to select to send to Robert. My wife has already given me some input on some of the earlier poems, but she hasn't seen any from the last third of the month. She promised me she'd read them tonight.

For now, here's some more interesting poems I read this morning, or blogs that I've found intriguing. I like "and suddenly strange" at Whatever and ever. Over at Never Say a Commonplace Thing, I like both poems written for the last prompt of the month: "Flow" and "The Final Battle". "And suddenly, there were turtles" did not at first catch my eye when I read it in the comments at Poetic Asides, but I read it again at Emergency Metaphor Technician, and I like it. Two sites which I know I will return to because of the poems and the many links to other sites are: naming constellations and carolee sherwood. I enjoyed "Arbor Day" on the former and "Because she can't help it" on the latter.

"the lonely poem"

the lonely poem
sat by itself
on a blog
with just one entry -
itself

the poet never
came back
never gave the poem
any neighbors
any friends to talk to

it sat by itself
unnoticed, unread
a piece of internet
jetsam
waiting still

perhaps you'll find it
and read it
maybe even share it
with someone you care for
and it will have
fulfilled its purpose

it won't be
the lonely poem
anymore

and you can carry
its thank you
for all of your days

* * * * *

This poem was inspired by the prompt "to write a lonely poem" from Poetic Asides.

* * * * *

So, today, I've started to post some of the poems I wrote in April. I won't post them all, because some of them just aren't any good. But there's a few that I'm willing to share.

Poem a Day Update

So, I wrote my last two poems last night. I successfully finished the Poem a Day Challenge. I wrote thirty poems in thirty days. (Yay me!)

I spent some time this morning reading poems over at Poetic Asides. I wanted to just focus on writing poems in April, but now that it's May, I want to go back and see what other poets participating in the challenge wrote.

I've added some more blogs to my blogroll based on the poems I read, and those were just ones I read posted in the comments for the twenty-ninth, the "and suddenly, (blank)" prompt.

I like "April Alumni" over at CrankyMango. I also like "And suddenly plumes" at our lost jungle. "An April Moon" at Across the Lake, Eerily is also a beautiful, well-crafted poem. "And Suddenly the World Was Big Again" over at surdus moved me. And, last for today, but certainly not least, is "And suddenly the ideas stopped" at The Ghosts of Silence.