March 30, 2011

A Bright Month of Poetry

The Poem, Frederico Andreotti
(courtesy of Wikimedia Commons)
April is National Poetry Month, y'all. How do you plan to celebrate? I intend to take up the poem-a-day challenge and post my raw scraps and snippets right here on my bloggity blog. I just hope to keep up as it is also the month of the bunny as well as Buckaroo's Diggity Doggity Dinosaur Birthday.

But the goal here is quantity, not quality-- which seems antithetical to poetry in general, but I may cull a few stellar lines from the herd and turn them into something splendid. Well, it's good to have goals.

This is all by way of saying: You may find some mediocre language here over the next 30 days, some mixed metaphors, failed conceits, and overly alliterated lines. Keep in mind that it's all in the process of becoming-- as am I.

So here I am: another poetry marathoner at the starting line. Feel free to wave your hat as I limp past.

March 28, 2011

Spindled Review

Check out my review of Jacqueline West's first book of poetry, Cherma.

One tidbit I neglected to mention in my review: My female college classmates and I were instructed that we should never consider writing children's books if we wanted to be taken seriously as poets. It turns out that women in many different fields of study were given the same warning: you won't be respected if you choose to work with/ write for children. I'm thrilled to see that West has smashed that particluar glass ceiling with her series, The Books of Elsewhere.

March 17, 2011

A Walk at Winter's End

Welcome to my neighborhood.

I hope you brought boots.



March 16, 2011

Back Story

Rose and Thorn created a cool new section called Back Story where authors talk about their inspiration or writing process. Here's my post about writing the poem, "Problem Solving."

So kind of them to ask me to participate.

March 9, 2011

Stoked with Smoke

The Smoking Poet is out, and I'm in it with some fabulous folks. Take a gander-- or a goose.

March 7, 2011

March Melt


The rain rattled the house all night, washing the snow lakeward, and in the morning I lifted Buckaroo to the window so he could see the bare, bashful patches of dirt, leaves, and acorn caps. He announced, "Spring is coming," and I said, "Let it be so."


Daughter, Walking Ahead