Robert King's "One Man's Profit"

Here is my blurb from the back of Robert King's "One Man's Profit," a book well worth ordering, reading, and keeping:

These are poems that resonate, that create a space for the reader to come into and pause a moment and reflect on the significance of such things as aging and religion and duty and justice and the necessary paradox of longing to be a part of and apart from the natural world, by which is meant all that is nature, human and otherwise, including its rawest, most universal and inescapable passions. Ultimately, “One Man’s Profit” makes clear life’s one certain truth: all any of us stand a chance of keeping is what we notice, what we love enough to remember.

Sample poems from the collection are available in a wide array of journals, including "Wild Goose Poetry Review," "Pirene's Fountain," "Rusty Truck," "Southern Poetry Review," "Dead Mule," and many more. The book is available through Amazon.

What One Poet Said About "The Fractured World"

I received a wonderful note from fellow poet, Lynn Ciesielski, about "The Fractured World." I had to share it somewhere, so here it is:

Dear Scott:

I finally took the time to order a copy of your collection and I was very glad that I did. The Fractured World is extremely riveting, poignant, at times humorous and always well-written. I ended up reading it cover to cover while I waited at a mechanic's garage where my husband sometimes works on race cars. This says a lot because there was a lot of noise there and normally I can't concentrate with any distractions. However, I was completely focused throughout the text.

The first section provided a good lead-in to the second and third which I found more disturbing. "The Liberation of Breakfast" was very comical and slant. "The Writing On The Wall" was also quite humorous but in a different way. It seems everyone must have found some very interesting reading material on bathroom walls. "Make Believe" is sad but at the same time reassuring. At least the subject has an out with the ability to write.

Just about all the poems in Suite Norman are extremely heart-wrenching. I felt so much empathy for Norman's family and Norman as well, for he too suffers immensely throughout his inward torture and his own history of abuse. It is tempting to simply hate him, but you frame him in such a sensitive way that I want to understand his motivations. Case in point, you immediately begin the section with "Norman's Storm Fear," illustrating how he is riddled with insecurities, however insignificant. "Norman Learns Not To Cry" continues with Norman's learning early to squelch his emotions. I like the way you continue through his boyhood and courting years, then move into his experiences with his own wife and children. Norman never seems quite happy as illustrated in "Norman Everyday". His own disgust with himself and his life comes to a culmination in "Norman In The Window, His Eyes Like Shattered Glass". By this point, he is drawing others deeply and tragically into his drama. "Inventory" is extremely grotesque and sound as if Norman has some socio-pathic tendencies. "Remote" seems to confirm this. In "Norman Had A Change of Heart," you give us hope that possibly Norman has reformed.

Smoke Dissolving In Wind is a sad section, largely dealing with coming to grips with a life upturned. "Holding The Breath We Feel Inside Of Us" shows that you can never completely dismiss those disturbing aspects of your life. "Obsession" racks the brain with various possibilities for committing suicide and "The Question Of Failure Arises" shows how even that isn't an easy solution to the pain life can dish out. "On The Days I Am Not My Father" is very telling. While at first it appears that the speaker has nothing but negative feelings toward his father, the ending reminds us that he does love him after all. "So Norman Died Of Course" is a very surprising ending. This is not because Norman dies, that is, every life ends in death, but because this poem is fairly different than the others in the collection. I'm not sure of the reason for all of the surrealistic images but they certainly do get my attention. The last line is lovely,

his hand, his hard right hand which never learned to hold anything gently turned into a leaf that held wind, rain, sunlight
upon it, then let everything go.

Thank you for sharing this story.

Best wishes,
Lynn Ciesielski

Monday Night Writers Reading

NC Poetry Society 81st Anniversary Reading at Malaprops in Asheville, Sunday, 4/14, 3:00

N.C. POETRY SOCIETY READINGS & CELEBRATION
Start: 04/14/2013 3:00 pm

Local North Carolina Poetry Society poets Kathy Ackerman, Michael Beadle, Scott Owens and Kathy Weisfeld will join host Pat Riviere-Seel to help celebrate the NCPS’s 81st year. The NCPS, begun in Charlotte, NC, in 1932 and incorporated in 1966, supports, promotes and brings poets together through meetings, workshops, contests, publications, mentoring programs and more. Come hear some of the poets from Western NC read their poems and discover what the NCPS can do for you and your poetry.



Kathy Ackerman grew up in Northwest Ohio but has lived in the Carolinas since 1984. She has published three poetry chapbooks: The Time It Takes (Finishing Line Press); Crossbones and Princess Lace (NCWN Mary Belle Campbell Poetry Chapbook Award); and Knock Wood (Main Street Rag) as well as a critical biography of Olive Tilford Dargan, The Heart of Revolution (University of Tennessee Press). Her latest poetry book, Coal River Road, will soon be published by Livingston Press at the University of West Alabama. She is Writer-in-Residence and the Dean of Arts and Sciences at Isothermal Community College in Spindale, NC, and resides in Tryon.



Michael Beadle is an award-winning poet, author and teaching artist living in Canton, NC. His poems have been published in journals and anthologies such as The New Southerner, Sow's Ear, and Wild Goose Poetry Review. Since 1998, he has been performing original, contemporary and classical poetry at schools, festivals and special events. As a North Carolina A+ Fellow and touring writer-in-residence, Michael teaches writing and arts integration workshops for students and teachers across the state. He is the author of three poetry chapbooks, one poetry CD, and four books on Haywood County history. Last summer, Michael spent a fun-filled week at the NC Zoo in Asheboro as a poet-in-residence. He also serves as Student Contest Director for the NC Poetry Society.



Scott Owens’ tenth collection of poetry, Shadows Trail Them Home, was recently published by Clemson University Press. He is the author of more than 1200 published poems and his prior work has received awards from the Academy of American Poets, the Pushcart Prize Anthology, the Next Generation/Indie Lit Awards, the NC Writers Network, the NC Poetry Society, and the Poetry Society of SC. He is the founder of Poetry Hickory, editor of Wild Goose Poetry Review and 234, and vice president of the NC Poetry Society. Born and raised in Greenwood, SC, he currently teaches at Catawba Valley Community College in Hickory, NC.



Pat Riviere-Seel, a past President of the NCPS, is the author of two poetry collections. The Serial Killer’s Daughter (Main Street Rag, 2009) won the North Carolina and Historical Society’s Roanoke-Chowan Award. No Turning Back Now (Finishing Line Press, 2004) was nominated for a Pushcart Prize. In 2012 she was selected as a Poet-in-Residence at the NC Zoo and received a creative residency fellowship from the Hambidge Center in Rabun Gap, Georgia. She earned her MFA from Queens University of Charlotte.



Kathy Weisfeld lives in Burnsville, NC. Her poems have been published in WNC Woman and The Great Smokies Review. After a long hiatus, she began writing again to express the grief of her partner's death and the muse has returned in many guises. She volunteers for Yancey Hospice and The Appalachian Therapeutic Riding Center. She was chosen to be mentored by Joseph Bathanti as part of the Gilbert-Chappell Distinguished Poet Series 2012.


Location:

55 Haywood St
Asheville,
North Carolina
28801
United States

Here Comes the Slam

HERE COMES THE SLAM

The Poetry Council of North Carolina has sponsored a series of contests for NC poets for 61 years. Three years ago the Council added a poetry slam to its annual contests. On April 20 the Council will hold its third slam as part of Poetry Day at Catawba Valley Community College in Hickory.

A slam is not exactly “your father’s poetry reading.” A slam is a contest of live performances of poems with an emphasis on the “performance” element. The first competition known to be called a slam, took place in Chicago in 1986.

Poems entered into a slam can run the gamut from traditional formal poetry to avant garde performance poems, from the personal to the political, from inspirational spoken word to riveting dramatic monologue.

The rules are simple. The poem must be an original composition of the performer. The performance can last no more than 3 minutes, and no props, costumes, or background music is permitted. Judges are chosen randomly from the audience.

The Poetry Council Poetry Day Slam has a $5 entry fee and prizes of $35, $25, and $15. Up to three Honorable Mentions may also be selected by the judge. Poetry Day is attended by a diverse, multi-aged audience, so slam poems are pre-screened for appropriateness.

To enter the Poetry Day Poetry Slam, the poem, and name, address, phone number, and email address of the performing poet should be emailed to Shane Manier at deepfrostx@yahoo.com. Registration may be allowed at Poetry Day, but no more than 20 performers will be allowed to enter the contest.

Poetry Day activities begin at 9:30 and conclude at 3:00 and will include readings by all of the Poetry Council’s annual contest winners. Visit www.poetrycouncilofnc.wordpress.com for more information.

Bob Moyer, Slammaster of the Winston-Salem Poetry Slam and drama instructor at the NC School of the Arts, won the first Poetry Council Poetry Slam with his performance of “Things Fall Out of My Father.”

THINGS FALL OUT OF MY FATHER
by Bob Moyer

his partial plate lands on the place mat
we look at it we look at him he
gives a gap-toothed grin we
smile my mother and I

things fall
out of my father
he dwindles day by day the earth draws him nearer to her
the body of a ten year old
the voice of a five year old floats up from the back seat
are we there yet we
smile my mother and I

things
fall out of my father
a brown stain runs down the back of his pant leg
he cups his hand under his butt as he dances hi
anorexic two-step towards the restaurant restroom
past the waitress scraping garbage showing cleavage
she doesn’t mean to she doesn’t see me she doesn’t see
him but my father thinks everybody sees him

and I don’t know what to do when
things fall out of my father

I find the answer aisle ten bob and carl’s supermarket
adult medium sized diapers I buy them take them home
in the dim light of the dining room my father’s son
puts a diaper on him the plastic elastic replicates
the wrinkle in his skin

I’ve come full cycle haven’t I he says we
smile my father and I

and then my father says the thing that makes me see what to do when
things fall out of my father –

people write poems about things like this don’t they

The Long Distance Writer

THE LONG DISTANCE WRITER
(first published in Outlook)

If the United Arts Council sponsored a Poet Laureate for the Catawba County area, an idea well worth considering, it would have to be Tim Peeler. Raised in Catawba County, no one has nor probably ever will write more about the people and places, only sometimes veiled behind poetic masks, of this region than Peeler. And no one has done more to bring poetry into the area or bring it out of those who live and learn here. The power of Peeler’s poetry speaks for itself. And I can speak personally of his influence, having identified him in a recent interview as the most influential Southern writer on my own work.

In his younger days, Peeler was a long-distance runner, and throughout his career he has approached his writing with the same discipline, patience, perseverance, humility, and consistency that such running requires. Now 56, he recently sent me a copy of his 7501st poem. Here it is, ironically titled “7501,” and still demonstrating the humility that marks the man and his work:

7501

I’ve written around 4500 poems since 1998,
3000 or so before the year
I got the needle in the groove,
And like my friend Charlie says,
I’ll die with a chest high stack of poems
Leaning like a mountain goat
In a half-painted closet.
My youngest son has promised
To burn them at the fire pit, one at a time,
But I know how he is;
He’ll throw them all in at once.

We think of Emily Dickinson’s nearly 2000 poems as a great achievement, and of Rumi’s roughly 4000 poems as virtually impossible. What, then, can we say about anything approaching 8000? Even more amazing, though I won’t pretend to have read all of Peeler’s poems, of the hundreds I have read, very few don’t qualify as good, and an enviable abundance qualify as very good.

After receiving this poem, I asked him why anyone would write that many poems. His answer was simply, “obsessive-compulsive disorder.” I also asked him when he wrote his first good poem, and to illustrate his previous reply, he said, with a straight face, “I’m not sure I’ve written it yet.”

In this time of Warhol’s 15 minutes of fame having become a reality, there is as much to be admired in Peeler’s attitude towards life and work as there is in the work he produces.

I asked Peeler what advice he would have for young writers in the area, and he replied: “You have to be a voracious reader, but you can only read so many books in your lifetime, so pick something that is either great or helpful to you on your journey.” He also added that they “are lucky to be in Catawba County where they can find support for what they do, the companionship of other writers, and free access to a local college writing series that regularly engages the services of world class writers.”

Peeler’s collections of poetry are as follows:
Touching All the Bases (McFarland, 1999), out of print but available from used Amazon book dealers.
Waiting for Godot’s First Pitch (McFarland, 2001)
Blood River: Selected Poems 1983-2005 (Rank Stranger Press, 2005)
Fresh Horses (Rank Stranger Press, 2007)
Checking Out (Hub City Press, 2010)
Waiting for Charlie Brown, a collaboration with Ted Pope (Rank Stranger Press, 2011)

I know that he is working on yet another series of poems, this one based on the abandoned Henry River Mill Village; I hope he is also putting the best of his work together in a collection that will inevitably portray a world populated by the most amazing people as perceived by one of our time’s most amazing writers.

The Weight of Teaching

The Weight of Teaching

I love teaching. And I love teaching my Writing about Literature class at Catawba Valley Community College. In 20+ years of teaching, I have had a lot of good days in the classroom, and this year, I have had a lot of good days in this particular class. Today was one of the best.

Today we read the poem “Acts of Defiance” in which a young boy has to reach inside the back end of a cow to help a calf be born. The poem says,

I simply did as I was told
and reached my hands,
my forearms, long and thin,
even up to the elbows,
into the bloody back end
of a moaning cow
to grasp what I felt there
and pull,
and pull harder
when it wouldn’t come
until something appeared,
and pull harder still
until something became
a wet mess of calf
spilling into my lap.

One student saw in this struggle to bring about life a metaphor for life itself and for the process we go through to extract meaning from our own lives. “It’s difficult,” he said; “It’s messy. We often don’t know what we’re doing or what we’ve got a hold of, but if we keep pulling, we’ll eventually get it out, and have something of significance.” Throughout this course we have occasionally discussed existentialism and the process of making meaning.

Another student noticed how the boy in the poem is surrounded by his uncles and his grandfather but not his father and suggested the poem expresses the difficulty of learning life lessons in the absence of a parent and the importance of others filling the void left by an absent parent. Throughout this semester we have used reader-response journals to help the students explore how the poems and stories we read relate to their own lives and experiences. This student’s own father has been incarcerated since the student was a young boy.

When the speaker of this poem later witnesses the birth of his own child, he comments “I finally understand / the weight of it all.” Both of these students immediately understood the weight of that line not only in the poem but in their own lives and in their understanding of how meaning is made.