Today we’re catching up with two poems. Yesterday, for my son’s 28th birthday, I posted a special poem in honor of him and the walks we used to take through a field inhabited by fairies. Scroll down the list for Day #12 to read “The Magical Field of the Lollygaggers.”
On a lighter note, for today (Day #13), the subject is donuts, a prompt suggested by Faisal Mohyuddin, one of the 9 poets writing as part of the 30/30 Tupelo Press Poetry Project in April. My poem is titled “The Last One” and focuses on that last sad donut that always seems to be left in the box. It’s been fun to read how my fellow poets have addressed the same sweet topic in recent days, whether it be the long john or the ubiquitous glazed dozen.
If you love poetry, I hope you’ll consider supporting a poet this month. Scroll down read my work (and those of the other poets) if you can, and consider supporting me with a small donation. Supportive comments on this blog are also very welcome because they inspire me to keep going!
Many, many thanks to all of you have contributed to the cause so far — either through a monetary donation or moral support, which are equally valuable.
Please know that your contributions are going to a great cause. Tupelo Press is a prestigious non-profit press, and for 17 years their mission has been to publish new voices. They are giving my work some exposure, and bringing me into a community of over 350 alumni helping each other publish our work.
I’ve written about the cats in our life, Kiki and Little Puss, along with the two littlest dogs, Buster and Finn. Today it’s time the shyest of them had her moment in the sun. Meet Baby, the husky-shepherd mix (pictured to the left) rescued by Johnpaul years ago.
Want to read it? Scroll down in the alphabetical list for Day #11 to read “Somnambulant Dog.”
If you love poetry, I hope you’ll consider supporting a poet this month. Please do read my work (and those of the other poets) if you can, and consider supporting me with a small donation. Supportive comments on this blog are also very welcome because they inspire me to keep going!
Many, many thanks to all of you have contributed to the cause so far — either through a monetary donation or moral support, which are equally valuable.
Please know that your contributions are going to a great cause. Tupelo Press is a prestigious non-profit press, and for 17 years their mission has been to publish new voices. They are giving my work some exposure, and bringing me into a community of over 350 alumni helping each other publish our work.
We made it to Day 10 – whew! Only twenty more days to go. But I have to say that I’m thoroughly enjoying this poetry challenge. As I mentioned to a friend, it’s a little like documenting your daily life through a diary of poetry.
In keeping with yesterday’s poem about the delights of spring, today we’ll anticipate the arrival of the wood thrush, a rather nondescript bird in terms of appearance, but with a song as ethereal as the nightingale. Have you heard it?
If you love poetry, I hope you’ll consider supporting a poet this month. Please do read my work (and those of the other poets) if you can, and consider supporting me with a small donation. Supportive comments on this blog are also very welcome because they inspire me to keep going!
Many, many thanks to all of you have contributed to the cause so far — either through a monetary donation or moral support, which are equally valuable.
Please know that your contributions are going to a great cause. Tupelo Press is a prestigious non-profit press, and for 17 years their mission has been to publish new voices. They are giving my work some exposure, and bringing me into a community of over 350 alumni helping each other publish our work.
Springtime along Whale Tail Road in southwestern Randolph County brings abundant joys but I’m on the fence when it comes to the plethora of wild blackberries. They have more “volunteers” than any other plant and seem to pop up in the most unlikely places–even in the gravel!
So today’s poem addresses the mixed blessing of wild blackberries. Want to read it? Scroll down in the alphabetical list for Day #9 to read “Pulling up the Wild Blackberry Bushes.”
If you love poetry, I hope you’ll consider supporting a poet this month. Please do read my work (and those of the other poets) if you can, and consider supporting me with a small donation. Supportive comments on this blog are also very welcome because they inspire me to keep going!
Many, many thanks to all of you have contributed to the cause so far — either through a monetary donation or moral support, which are equally valuable.
Please know that your contributions are going to a great cause. Tupelo Press is a prestigious non-profit press, and for 17 years their mission has been to publish new voices. They are giving my work some exposure, and bringing me into a community of over 350 alumni helping each other publish our work.
One of my favorite sources of poetic inspiration is dreams. They offer an endless variety of unfettered thoughts with hoards of images and surprises. Today’s poem is inspired by someone else’s dream.
If you love poetry, I hope you’ll consider supporting a poet this month. Please do read my work (and those of the other poets) if you can, and consider supporting me with a small donation. Supportive comments on this blog are also very welcome because they inspire me to keep going!
Many, many thanks to all of you have contributed to the cause so far — either through a monetary donation or moral support, which are equally valuable.
Please know that your contributions are going to a great cause. Tupelo Press is a prestigious non-profit press, and for 17 years their mission has been to publish new voices. They are giving my work some exposure, and bringing me into a community of over 350 alumni helping each other publish our work.
On Friday night, Johnpaul and I participated in the annual Fall Open Mic sponsored by the Creative Writing Program at Central Carolina Community College. The event was kindly hosted by the Joyful Jewel, a vibrant arts and craft gallery in the heart of downtown Pittsboro.
The optional theme this year, fittingly enough, was holiday angst, and we heard a variety of creative works featuring the joy and occasional madness that marks the holidays. We heard the travails of a real working Santa (featuring local Santa Al Capehart), fiction by Robin Whitten, Kim Overcash and Linda Johnson, and poetry by Judith Stanton, Bonnie Korta, Ruth Moose and our emcee Mary Barnard, among many other delightful voices. We also had the honor of hearing Michele Berger read a poignant essay on her mother that was published in “Letters to My Mother,” a book which featured the voices of other celebrity and national personalities. Yes, Michele is our own celebrity!
Johnpaul and I couldn’t resist the opportunity to read a “re-mix” of “The Suicide You Prevent Might Be Your Own.” In this version of our darkly humorous 3-minute play, innocent sports fan Russell Huggins is unlucky enough to accidentally call Janet, a stressed-out suicide prevention counselor, while trying to order a pizza for the Peach Bowl party he’s hosting on New Year’s Eve.
As with all of the open mic events sponsored by the Creative Writing Program, the roster invariably features a wide variety of talent and the full spectrum of human emotion–from laughter to tears to joy.
We hope to see you at one of our events soon, but in the meantime, stay tuned for the spring catalog of creative writing courses offered by the College. These classes will not only sharpen your writing skills, but they will also introduce you to terrific people who, like those I’ve been privileged to get to know, may become lifelong buddies.
With the end of Daylight Savings Time, J.P. and I decided to spend a little time on one of our favorite activities–writing poetry. And with an extra hour on our hands, it was time to tackle the famed villanelle!
Made famous by Dylan Thomas, Elizabeth Bishop, and Sylvia Plath, the villanelle is enjoying new popularity among contemporary poets. For examples and to see the rhyme-scheme, click here. I love them all, but I will never tire of Plath and her Mad Girl’s Love Song.
From a poet’s perspective, the villanelle can be rather “villanous” to compose, given its head-scratching structure. It’s not the best form for narrative poetry; it’s best for lyrical and more philosophic topics. Some poets use the villanelle to express ideas or thoughts that trouble them. My advice is to choose a topic that fascinates or moves you. You’re more likely to finish it!
J.P. and I composed our villanelles separately (promise!) but not surprisingly, we addressed in our way, the notion of time. For fun, we’ll share them below.
Don’t Seize the Day Ashley Memory
Everyone says you should seize the day,
Bustle and hustle until the sun drops down.
But who has to listen to what they say?
A life worth having is not lived that way!
Muse at the sun, weave a clover crown.
Don’t listen to those who seize their days.
Revel in the roses, snuggle in the hay
Smile, just smile, while the others frown.
Never, never listen to what others say.
Do what you like; only yourself obey–
Sip at the fountain, be the talk of the town.
Don’t let anyone else seize your day!
At night let the stars guide your sleigh
and the moon wrap you in his gauzy gown.
He never listens to what others say!
Hours or dollars? What will you pay?
Time worth spent is far better found.
Everyone says you should seize the day
but who has to listen to what they say?
Save My Luck for Another Day Johnpaul Harris
There seems to be no other way;
feel your love under the crescent moon
Save my luck for another day.
Play is work and work is play–
On the bed we two will spoon;
There seems no other way.
Kissing on your feet of clay
we celebrate new lemon bloom
Save my luck for another day.
We always know just what to say
and words to chase away the gloom
There seems to be no other way.
We seem to sift the time away
in endless space or tiny room
Save my luck for another day.
And the way we live from June to May;
a century would end too soon.
There seems to be no other way
Save my luck for another day.
This weekend I had the pleasure of traveling with my friend and fellow writer Mary Barnard (whom I met through the CCCC Creative Writing Program) to the second annual Your Daily Poem workshop at the tranquil setting of Lake Junaluska.
The hand-carved grave of Squire Boone, next to his wife Sarah and Israel Boone, brother of Daniel.
Poets are known to take little detours so please pardon me for digressing but Mary and I took the scenic route and ended up in Mocksville, which we learned was a boyhood home of Daniel Boone and actually the site of his parents’ graves! (Where is Daniel? The remains of this famous frontiersman are actually in Frankfurt, KY.) One detour led to another and somehow we ended up eating lunch at Maria’s Salvadorean restaurant where we had our first pupusas and taste of horchata. Delicious!
Because the workshop didn’t start until 6 p.m., we decided to go to poet Carl Sandburg’s house in Flat Rock first. This poet, historian, musician, essayist, and novelist spent the last 22 years of his life here. Although I’ve visited numerous literary sites in my time, ironically, it was only now that I ventured to this fabled site in my own home state. And what a treat! Those who know me best know how much I love plundering through the personal possessions of writers!
The interior of Sandburg’s beloved Connemara is currently undergoing renovations until 2018; however, there remained enough of a footprint to imagine the daily life of a man once described as the “voice of America.” Yet in spite of his Pulitzers, he rejoiced in the simple things, as evidenced in his poem Happiness. His simplicity is also illustrated by what is not on the property. There still exists a concrete-lined hole in the front yard because once he bought the estate, Carl had the fountain removed because he thought it was too pretentious!
The desk of the poet and his cherished typewriter. His library also contains a table constructed from wood used at the White House during the age of Abraham Lincoln, the subject of his famous biography.
We ended our visit by strolling down to the goat dairy established by Sandberg’s wife Paula. She was a tour de force in her own right, and among other things, a linguist, literature teacher, activist and champion breeder of Nubian and Swiss goats. Bottlefed since birth, the friendly descendants of the Sandburg herd are quite unafraid of humans. And they still win awards for their milk production.
Whoa Nellie, literally, as the goat Nellie charges young Cinnamon to take her place at the feeding trough.
We were a little late for dinner at our workshop, but we were heartily welcomed nonetheless by the poet Jayne Jaudon Ferrer, the creator of this wonderful online poetry community that now boasts thousands of subscribers.
Aren’t the best skies a bit moody? The fog in the morning followed us from Sandburg’s home, like you guessed it… little cat feet.
On our first evening, we were treated to the toe-tapping rhythms of Twin Courage, fronted by Rachael Gallman and Jayne’s son Jaron Ferrer. Their music is influenced by the writing of Ray Bradbury and their own affinity for the natural world (“Black Bear” was a favorite of mine!). The two-day workshop (even amidst unexpected Saturday rain) brought fellowship and instruction. The participants, poets across the nation, learned from celebrated writers Richard Allen Taylor, Dana Wildsmith, Phebe Davidson and Joe Mills. We tackled topics such as line length, images, metaphors, and poetic devices, all important tools in the poet’s backpack.
On Saturday night, we enjoyed hearing from our workshop leaders and each other, as we took turns reading from our own work. A highlight was Mary’s poem “Orange,” which magically wove together Halloween and the flight of monarch butterflies.
Writers came from as far away as Texas, Georgia, South Carolina and even New Hampshire!
Alas, it seemed that Sunday came all too soon and we had to say goodbye to many new friends, but we eagerly traded hugs and email addresses so I hope we’ll stay in touch.
On the way home, we stopped by the mountaintop home of Mary’s friends Lynn and Ben, where we savored a last glimpse of the Blue Ridge Mountains. Here we were treated to Mexican Tabouli Salad, which I’m happy to say is my latest obsession!
Want more poetry? Don’t forget to join us for the October 23 Open Mic reading at CCCC! Here students and members of the public alike will have the opportunity to read from their work for up to 6 minutes.
Real-life lovers Napoleon (left) and Antosia at a zoo in Poznan, Poland.
Made plans for next Friday night? If not, plan on joining us at the Spring/Summer Open Mic for the Central Carolina Community College’s Creative Writing Program. It will be Friday, May 29, 6-8 PM in the beautiful Chatham Community Library, Mary Hayes Holmes Room, in Pittsboro, N.C.
If you’re interested in reading your prose or poetry, please sign in upon arrival. We’ll follow the order on the list, and you’ll have up to eight minutes. In addition to the reading, light refreshments will be served, another reason why you shouldn’t miss this event. If you don’t want to read, no worries, it’s still a lot of fun to hear the work of other local writers and mingle with the crowd.
I plan on reading 3 of my poems, one of which (“Napoleon and Antosia”) was inspired by two amorous real-life donkeys in Poland.
This piece was the result of another one of my most favorite poetry prompts (source: The Practice of Poetry, edited by Robin Behn and Chase Twichell). You choose a story from the tabloids, write a poem in third person, and, as outrageous as it may be, take the story perfectly seriously. Oddly enough, this may lend your poem a bit of magical realism! I penned this poem during a class by Ralph Earle this fall and at his direction, wrote it with two different sets of line breaks.
While the National Enquirer and Star tend to focus more on celebrity news these days and unfortunately print less of those wacky stories such as “Alien Abducts My Wife” (remember those?), thanks to Reddit, you can find a wealth of these stories on this internet-based site, such as “Woman Lives with Mother’s Skeletal Remains for Years” or “Enchanted Creature Dances Beneath Icy Waters in Norway.”
Let your imagination run free and who knows how far you will go! Have fun writing, and we hope to see you at the Open Mic next Friday!
Sunday, May 3, was one of those days simply made for poetry. Blue skies, dazzling sunshine, and a walk through land virtually untouched by humans. A Carolina day free from humidity is truly a gift!
Our writing group was fortunate enough to have the opportunity to visit with Robin and her husband Wayne, a walking encyclopedia of history and natural science, especially forestry. They are the stewards of one of the dwindling parcels of land not yet affected by the growing development in Chatham County.
Wood sprites, fairies, or poets? What do you think?
Their land includes a natural spring, Landrum’s Creek (home to river otters!), and New World trees rarely seen in subdivisions these days: beech, ash, red oak and hickory. Here we are posing in front of an estimated 250-year-old mockernut hickory tree (identified, of course, by Wayne).
Nature walks, a ritual prescribed by Susan Wooldridge in her book Poem Crazy, are like oxygen to poets. Susan recommends regularly immersing yourself in nature and learning the names of flora and fauna. While we didn’t get lucky enough to see an otter (be still my heart…can you imagine?), we did spot a skink, a hawk, butterflies, centipedes, woodpeckers, and the one thing that makes you dread warmer weather: ticks! But even these pesky little creatures have earned their place. Hummm….a poem about ticks, now there’s a subject rarely touched.
Robin was an especially thoughtful hostess, as she and Wayne had thought ahead and plunked down a brand new picnic table right in the middle of the clearing. This was a perfect spot for pita chips, hummus, ginger ale, and what else? Strawberry shortcake!
Here is Wayne, our intrepid field guide, who is enjoying his own well-deserved plate of cake. We are so grateful to him for his willingness to lead us through the woods and answer our endless list of questions? Is this a maple? Why is this bark so rough? Can we drink from that spring? I’ll give his answer to the last question, mine, out of due diligence. Sure, he said, if you’re used to all those microbes in your system. That was enough for me!
Shortcake was certainly in order given our group’s recent accomplishments. We found out that Carolina Crimes: 19 Tales of Love, Lust, and Longing, which includes a story (“Happy Pills”) by our writing group member Linda Johnson was nominated for a 2015 Anthony Award. This anthology was edited by local writer and editor Karen Pullen and includes tales from other acclaimed writers such as Ruth Moose, one of our group’s favorite writing teachers at CCCC.
And….just in time for Mother’s Day, we also learned that another member, Michele Berger, had a piece of her writing selected for a national anthology: A Letter to My Mom: A Tribute to Our Very First Loves. In this beautiful book, Michele shares her own heartfelt message to her mother in a collection of personally-crafted letters written by people from all walks of life, including celebrities (Dr. Phil, Suze Orman, and Mariel Hemingway, just to name a few!). Read more about Michele’s experience on her own blog. What I love about this book is that it represents just a fraction of a community of people who want to express their love and admiration for their mothers. In fact, you can even share your own letter on their website.
Whether it’s walking in the woods or celebrating your own mother, I hope that you will find your own inspiration in your own space and that the writing flows as freely as it does in Landrum Creek!
On a lighter note, for today (Day #13), the subject is donuts, a prompt suggested by Faisal Mohyuddin, one of the 9 poets writing as part of the 30/30 Tupelo Press Poetry Project in April. My poem is titled “The Last One” and focuses on that last sad donut that always seems to be left in the box. It’s been fun to read how my fellow poets have addressed the same sweet topic in recent days, whether it be the long john or the ubiquitous glazed dozen.
I’ve written about the cats in our life, Kiki and Little Puss, along with the two littlest dogs, Buster and Finn. Today it’s time the shyest of them had her moment in the sun. Meet Baby, the husky-shepherd mix (pictured to the left) rescued by Johnpaul years ago.
nondescript bird in terms of appearance, but with a song as ethereal as the nightingale. 
Springtime along Whale Tail Road in southwestern Randolph County brings abundant joys but I’m on the fence when it comes to the plethora of wild blackberries. They have more “volunteers” than any other plant and seem to pop up in the most unlikely places–even in the gravel!
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Ashley Harris 