SUBMITTING POETRY FOR PUBLICATION
Continuing in our “Hickory Poet How-To” series, here are some tips on submitting poetry for journal publication.
1. Find the journals. www.duotrope.com maintains a database of over 3000 journals that publish poetry and fiction. Their database is constantly updated and includes a submission tracker program that will help you keep track of where you have submitted to and what the results were. You can find similar lists at www.pw.org (Poets & Writers) and www.newpages.com. Poets & Writers is a semi-monthly magazine that lists calls for submissions and upcoming contests, as does The Chronicle from Associated Writing Programs. The NC Writers’ Network emails a weekly newsletter to its members that includes calls for submissions. Main Street Rag has a similar monthly newsletter. If you like printed guides, you can find Poets’ Market in most bookstores or order The International Directory of Little Magazines and Small Presses from www.dustbooks.com.
2. Start Locally, preferably with editors you’ve met or chatted with online. Good journals in the NC piedmont include Wild Goose Poetry Review, Dead Mule, Referential, Iodine Poetry Journal, The Pedestal Magazine, and Main Street Rag. If you’re taking classes at a college or university, find out about the school’s literary magazine and submit to it.
3. Research your targets. If you haven’t read a recent issue of a journal, then don’t submit to them. Without knowing what kind of poetry they’re likely to publish, you’re setting yourself up for multiple rejections. Most journals have either sample poems or entire recent issues available online. Make sure you follow the journal’s submission guidelines as well or your work will probably be rejected without being read.
4. Include a cordial, but brief, cover letter and biography (unless the guidelines specifically ask that you not include them). Here is a sample of each:
Dear Editors,
Thank you for taking the time to consider the following poems for publication in _____. They have not been previously published, nor are they under consideration elsewhere. A brief bio follows. If you need anything else, please don't hesitate to contact me by email, phone (828-234-4266) or post (838 4th Ave. Dr. NW, Hickory, NC 28601.
I hope you enjoy the poems and look forward to hearing back from you.
(Bio) Author of 6 collections of poetry and over 800 poems published in journals and anthologies, Scott Owens is editor of Wild Goose Poetry Review, Vice President of the Poetry Council of North Carolina, and recipient of awards from the Pushcart Prize Anthology, the Academy of American Poets, the NC Writers’ Network, the NC Poetry Society, and the Poetry Society of SC. He holds an MFA from UNC Greensboro and currently teaches at Catawba Valley Community College. He grew up on farms and in mill villages around Greenwood, SC.
5. Keep records. I use a database to track where I’ve sent the poems to and what the results were. Duotrope’s program is just as good. Some people use index cards.
6. Don’t simultaneously submit. Some will disagree, but most journals respond within 4 months, and having the same poem out at multiple places is confusing and creates a real possibility that you might anger an editor or even create a copyright violation issue. The way I see it, If I have time to submit the same poem to several places, then I’m taking time away from writing new poems.
7. Be patient. There is no sort of standard rate, but my first acceptance came with my 25th submission, and for the first couple of years 1 acceptance for every 15 submissions seemed the norm for me. That gradually improved over the years, and now I have about a 50% success rate with submissions.
Showing posts with label Dead Mule. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Dead Mule. Show all posts
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Hickory Poet How-To, Part I
HICKORY POET HOW-TO, PART I
(first published in Outlook)
So, you want to be a poet in Hickory, NC? Many have tried; many have failed; and a perhaps surprisingly large number have done pretty well. A word to the wise, however; it’s not easy. There is not what could be called a lot of interest in poetry in Hickory (or anywhere else these days for that matter). There is even less opportunity for financial remuneration. So, whatever you do, don’t give up your day job to become a poet.
If, despite these unfortunate facts, you are still interested, then here are some tips on how to get started and keep going.
1. READ. Whether you’re in Hickory or Paris, this is the most important element of developing one’s prowess with language. Read everything, of course, but in particular read good contemporary poetry. Anthologies like Contemporary American Poetry and Garrison Keillor’s Good Poems are a good place to start. You can find the poets you identify with there and then seek out their books to read further. There are also over 1000 regularly published poetry journals in America, many of which are available for free online. Nearby examples include Wild Goose Poetry Review (www.wildgoosepoetryreview.com), Dead Mule (www.deadmule.com), and Main Street Rag (www.mainstreetrag.com).
2. WRITE. Seems intuitive, but I know many would-be writers who get so caught up in the “busy-ness” of being a writer, that they never get much writing done. Aside from one’s job and family, the only thing a writer should be doing more than writing is reading. There are two possible keys to this process. First, one can schedule his or her writing for the same time every day, just like exercising or bathing, and stick to it. If family and work make that difficult to manage then one can purchase a nice journal and carry with them everywhere and write during whatever free time presents itself.
3. Read “Musings” (this column). The column comes out every other week and is also available online at www.scottowensmusings.blogspot.com if you miss the paper. It will include details on upcoming poetry events in the area, profiles of poets giving readings in the area, sample poems, and the occasional exploration of various poetry topics and issues (like this one).
4. Attend Poetry Hickory and Writers’ Night Out. On the second Tuesday of each month, two well-published writers and three Open Mic readers are featured at Taste Full Beans Coffeehouse in downtown Hickory. The featured writers read for about 20 minutes each, and the Open Mic readers for about 10 each. The featured writers usually have copies of their recent books to sell and sign as well. The readings start at 6:30 and are free. They are preceded by Writers’ Night Out, sponsored by the NC Writers’ Network and also free, which begins at 5:00. These are networking sessions attended by anywhere from 10 to 20 area writers, including several “newbies” as well as 3 journal editors, 2 creative writing instructors, and 4 writers who have published at least 5 books each.
5. Take a class. Both CVCC and Lenoir Rhyne offer creative writing classes every semester. If you already have your degree, you can sign up to audit the class as a way of honing your skills and increasing your motivation to write.
Okay, that’s a start. Come back in two weeks, and we’ll continue with the list.
(first published in Outlook)
So, you want to be a poet in Hickory, NC? Many have tried; many have failed; and a perhaps surprisingly large number have done pretty well. A word to the wise, however; it’s not easy. There is not what could be called a lot of interest in poetry in Hickory (or anywhere else these days for that matter). There is even less opportunity for financial remuneration. So, whatever you do, don’t give up your day job to become a poet.
If, despite these unfortunate facts, you are still interested, then here are some tips on how to get started and keep going.
1. READ. Whether you’re in Hickory or Paris, this is the most important element of developing one’s prowess with language. Read everything, of course, but in particular read good contemporary poetry. Anthologies like Contemporary American Poetry and Garrison Keillor’s Good Poems are a good place to start. You can find the poets you identify with there and then seek out their books to read further. There are also over 1000 regularly published poetry journals in America, many of which are available for free online. Nearby examples include Wild Goose Poetry Review (www.wildgoosepoetryreview.com), Dead Mule (www.deadmule.com), and Main Street Rag (www.mainstreetrag.com).
2. WRITE. Seems intuitive, but I know many would-be writers who get so caught up in the “busy-ness” of being a writer, that they never get much writing done. Aside from one’s job and family, the only thing a writer should be doing more than writing is reading. There are two possible keys to this process. First, one can schedule his or her writing for the same time every day, just like exercising or bathing, and stick to it. If family and work make that difficult to manage then one can purchase a nice journal and carry with them everywhere and write during whatever free time presents itself.
3. Read “Musings” (this column). The column comes out every other week and is also available online at www.scottowensmusings.blogspot.com if you miss the paper. It will include details on upcoming poetry events in the area, profiles of poets giving readings in the area, sample poems, and the occasional exploration of various poetry topics and issues (like this one).
4. Attend Poetry Hickory and Writers’ Night Out. On the second Tuesday of each month, two well-published writers and three Open Mic readers are featured at Taste Full Beans Coffeehouse in downtown Hickory. The featured writers read for about 20 minutes each, and the Open Mic readers for about 10 each. The featured writers usually have copies of their recent books to sell and sign as well. The readings start at 6:30 and are free. They are preceded by Writers’ Night Out, sponsored by the NC Writers’ Network and also free, which begins at 5:00. These are networking sessions attended by anywhere from 10 to 20 area writers, including several “newbies” as well as 3 journal editors, 2 creative writing instructors, and 4 writers who have published at least 5 books each.
5. Take a class. Both CVCC and Lenoir Rhyne offer creative writing classes every semester. If you already have your degree, you can sign up to audit the class as a way of honing your skills and increasing your motivation to write.
Okay, that’s a start. Come back in two weeks, and we’ll continue with the list.
Monday, May 17, 2010
Catching Up: Dead Mule, Catawba, and Redheaded Stepchild
Catching Up: Dead Mule, Catawba, and RedHeaded Stepchild
(Published in "Outlook," May 13, 2010
For the past two years I’ve frequently been asked how I manage to keep up with all the things I’ve been doing: teaching, writing a column, editing a journal, publishing 3 books of poetry, giving 50 or so readings, parenting, etc. Well, it finally caught up with me, and for the past month I haven’t kept up, and this column is the thing that I’ve allowed to slip by the wayside. I could offer lots of excuses, but I’d prefer to just say I’m sorry and get quickly back on track.
There has been and soon will be a lot of exciting things happening in the poetry world in the foothills area, and I’d like to focus on a few of those happenings in this column. First, hats off to the Dead Mule School of Southern Literature and poetry editor, Helen Losse. The nationally-recognized online journal has published the work of three students from CVCC: Bethea Buchanan, Jeremy Deal, and Ethan Sigmon. Their poems appear in the same issue with some of the South’s best poets, Harry Calhoun, Felicia Mitchell, Joe Milford, Jessie Carty, and Hickory’s own Bud Caywood, and can be viewed at www.deadmule.com.
Second, to see even more of the outstanding work from students at CVCC, stop by the campus library and pick up a free copy of the school’s own literary and arts journal, Catawba. This magazine, edited by faculty and students at the school under the leadership of Tim Peeler, includes outstanding photography, poetry, fiction, and nonfiction created by CVCC’s students.
Third, a special edition of Poetry Hickory will take place at Taste Full Beans Coffeehouse in downtown Hickory from 1:00 to 2:30 on Saturday, May 22. Poets from across the state whose work has been included in the journal Redheaded Stepchild will be reading their poems. Featured writers will include the editor of the journal, Malaika King Albrecht of Raleigh, the aforementioned Helen Losse, Asheville’s Michael Beadle, and yours truly, Scott Owens, among others to be announced. The journal can be seen at http://www.redheadedmag.com/poetry/.
Additionally, Poetry Hickory continues at 6:30 on the second Tuesday of each month at Taste Full Beans (June’s readers will be Linda Annas Ferguson and David Rigsbee), and Eliot Lytle, with the help of Ted Pope, has begun a summer poetry and music series at MESH Gallery in downtown Morganton at 3:00 on the second Saturdays of each month.
Finally, May 22 is the deadline for this year’s Poetry Council of NC annual poetry contests. Last year’s 36 winners included 3 area poets, and 9 who have read at Poetry Hickory. Complete guidelines for the contests are available at http://poetrycouncilofnc.wordpress.com/.
(Published in "Outlook," May 13, 2010
For the past two years I’ve frequently been asked how I manage to keep up with all the things I’ve been doing: teaching, writing a column, editing a journal, publishing 3 books of poetry, giving 50 or so readings, parenting, etc. Well, it finally caught up with me, and for the past month I haven’t kept up, and this column is the thing that I’ve allowed to slip by the wayside. I could offer lots of excuses, but I’d prefer to just say I’m sorry and get quickly back on track.
There has been and soon will be a lot of exciting things happening in the poetry world in the foothills area, and I’d like to focus on a few of those happenings in this column. First, hats off to the Dead Mule School of Southern Literature and poetry editor, Helen Losse. The nationally-recognized online journal has published the work of three students from CVCC: Bethea Buchanan, Jeremy Deal, and Ethan Sigmon. Their poems appear in the same issue with some of the South’s best poets, Harry Calhoun, Felicia Mitchell, Joe Milford, Jessie Carty, and Hickory’s own Bud Caywood, and can be viewed at www.deadmule.com.
Second, to see even more of the outstanding work from students at CVCC, stop by the campus library and pick up a free copy of the school’s own literary and arts journal, Catawba. This magazine, edited by faculty and students at the school under the leadership of Tim Peeler, includes outstanding photography, poetry, fiction, and nonfiction created by CVCC’s students.
Third, a special edition of Poetry Hickory will take place at Taste Full Beans Coffeehouse in downtown Hickory from 1:00 to 2:30 on Saturday, May 22. Poets from across the state whose work has been included in the journal Redheaded Stepchild will be reading their poems. Featured writers will include the editor of the journal, Malaika King Albrecht of Raleigh, the aforementioned Helen Losse, Asheville’s Michael Beadle, and yours truly, Scott Owens, among others to be announced. The journal can be seen at http://www.redheadedmag.com/poetry/.
Additionally, Poetry Hickory continues at 6:30 on the second Tuesday of each month at Taste Full Beans (June’s readers will be Linda Annas Ferguson and David Rigsbee), and Eliot Lytle, with the help of Ted Pope, has begun a summer poetry and music series at MESH Gallery in downtown Morganton at 3:00 on the second Saturdays of each month.
Finally, May 22 is the deadline for this year’s Poetry Council of NC annual poetry contests. Last year’s 36 winners included 3 area poets, and 9 who have read at Poetry Hickory. Complete guidelines for the contests are available at http://poetrycouncilofnc.wordpress.com/.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
New Dead Mule Online
The new issue of Dead Mule is online with poems by my students, Ethan Sigmon, Jeremy Deal, and Bethea Buchanan. There are also poems by some of my favorites: Harry Calhoun, Bud Caywood, Joe Milford, Karla Merrifield, Jessie Carty, and Felicia Mitchell. Here is a link: http://www.deadmule.com/poetry/
Saturday, February 13, 2010
Helen Losse Reviews "Paternity"
Helen Losse has just posted a beautiful review of "Paternity" in the "Dead Mule School of Southern Literature." Helen has been a faithful reader of my work since "The Fractured World." In fact, she has published a number of my poems in "Dead Mule" during that time. Her familiarity with so many of my poems makes it possible for her to place this collection in a context of themes that came before and will exist after this book.
She says, "My first observation, concerning Scott Owens’ second book, is that Paternity begins where his first book, The Fractured World, ended. . . . Owens’ first book The Fractured World, also published by Main Street Rag, concerns his escape from an abusive childhood and his determination not to repeat the “sins of [his] father.” By the end of the book, Norman, the man who is part father part symbol and bit of anything Owens needs him to be, explodes and frees Owens for new adventures. . . . In Paternity, Owens searches for meaning in fatherhood, especially in the birth and young childhood of his daughter, Sawyer."
Here is a link that will allow you to read the entire review: http://www.deadmule.com/essays/2010/02/paternity-by-scott-owens-review-by-helen-losse/
My gratitude to Helen Losse, Dead Mule School of Southern Literature, and all who read the review and order the book.
She says, "My first observation, concerning Scott Owens’ second book, is that Paternity begins where his first book, The Fractured World, ended. . . . Owens’ first book The Fractured World, also published by Main Street Rag, concerns his escape from an abusive childhood and his determination not to repeat the “sins of [his] father.” By the end of the book, Norman, the man who is part father part symbol and bit of anything Owens needs him to be, explodes and frees Owens for new adventures. . . . In Paternity, Owens searches for meaning in fatherhood, especially in the birth and young childhood of his daughter, Sawyer."
Here is a link that will allow you to read the entire review: http://www.deadmule.com/essays/2010/02/paternity-by-scott-owens-review-by-helen-losse/
My gratitude to Helen Losse, Dead Mule School of Southern Literature, and all who read the review and order the book.
Monday, February 1, 2010
What a Week
Last week was almost the best week I've ever had as a writer. I had a total of 23 poems come out in 7 different journals. First there were the poems "Absence of Animal Presence," "The Word for What Only 4-Year Olds Can See," and "After the Flood" in Joe and Chenelle Milford's new journal, Scythe, at www.scytheliteraryjournal.com.
That was followed by "Light Falls and Runs Red" in the new issue of The Pedestal at http://thepedestalmagazine.com/. Next was one poem ("Second Chances" and ("All I Want") in each of the two new issues of Waterways, in print only, but info is available at www.tenpennyplayers.org/mags.html.
One of my favorite "blog" journals, protestpoems.org, at www.protestpoems.org.blogspot.com, then published one of my favorite new poems "Letter to Ahmadinejad," and I published my own poem "Relic" alongside Joe Young's photo "Time Goes By" in Outlook and then in my blog to help promote the Aroma of Art fundraiser going on this month in Hickory. That same day Outlook also published a profile of me written by Ann Fox Chandonnet.
A couple of days ago, Jane Crown released her latest issue of Heavy Bear, at www.heavybear.janecrown.com, which contained the poems "Meat Jesus" and "Arse Poetica" and an audio file of me reading 10 of my poems, most of which will be in Paternity, due out in just a couple of weeks. And now, today, Helen Losse has released the February issue of Dead Mule, which includes three of my poems written in honor of Black History Month, "Soundings," "Primer," and "in which the poet speaks as a sixth-grade classmate."
Thank you to each of these editors and to the readers who support these journals.
So why was it just "almost" the best week I've ever had? Because my new manuscript, which I really thought was good, didn't win the contest I had sent it off to, and because like most writers, I suspect, I take the rejections more personally than I do the acceptances. I tell myself to use rejections as motivation, but they still hurt, they still cause doubt, and they still linger in my mind longer than they should. Call me sensitive. Call me insecure. Call me spoiled. Self-doubt is just a tough thing to overcome.
That was followed by "Light Falls and Runs Red" in the new issue of The Pedestal at http://thepedestalmagazine.com/. Next was one poem ("Second Chances" and ("All I Want") in each of the two new issues of Waterways, in print only, but info is available at www.tenpennyplayers.org/mags.html.
One of my favorite "blog" journals, protestpoems.org, at www.protestpoems.org.blogspot.com, then published one of my favorite new poems "Letter to Ahmadinejad," and I published my own poem "Relic" alongside Joe Young's photo "Time Goes By" in Outlook and then in my blog to help promote the Aroma of Art fundraiser going on this month in Hickory. That same day Outlook also published a profile of me written by Ann Fox Chandonnet.
A couple of days ago, Jane Crown released her latest issue of Heavy Bear, at www.heavybear.janecrown.com, which contained the poems "Meat Jesus" and "Arse Poetica" and an audio file of me reading 10 of my poems, most of which will be in Paternity, due out in just a couple of weeks. And now, today, Helen Losse has released the February issue of Dead Mule, which includes three of my poems written in honor of Black History Month, "Soundings," "Primer," and "in which the poet speaks as a sixth-grade classmate."
Thank you to each of these editors and to the readers who support these journals.
So why was it just "almost" the best week I've ever had? Because my new manuscript, which I really thought was good, didn't win the contest I had sent it off to, and because like most writers, I suspect, I take the rejections more personally than I do the acceptances. I tell myself to use rejections as motivation, but they still hurt, they still cause doubt, and they still linger in my mind longer than they should. Call me sensitive. Call me insecure. Call me spoiled. Self-doubt is just a tough thing to overcome.
Thursday, September 10, 2009
Not Your Typical Poet
NOT YOUR TYPICAL POET
"Musings" column from September 3, 2009
Helen Losse is not your typical poet. In fact, she’s not your typical anything. She is a scholar and a NASCAR fan. She is a lover of nature and trains. She is devoutly Christian and fervently liberal. Her poetry is often formal and refined and just as often relaxed and conversational. And perhaps most importantly given her current residence in Winston-Salem, NC, she is fan of both the Wake Forest Demon Deacons and the UNC Tarheels.
Losse is the author of three collections of poetry, Gathering the Broken Pieces, Paper Snowflakes, and her newest Better with Friends. Even without her own writing, Losse would be an important figure in the world of Southern poetry. She has been Poetry Editor of the Dead Mule School of Southern Literature since 2005 and has striven to promote the work of area poets and the appreciation of poetry in general in every means imaginable. Any regular reader of this column knows how those efforts would make me a big fan.
Losse writes across a wide range of topics but as a scholar of African-American and civil rights history one of her favorite topics is social injustice and the heroes who arise out of the struggle to correct it. Her poems, however, are also full of gorgeous natural imagery that often serves to reveal a deeply meaningful and thoughtful faith. She is, ultimately, a kind woman and poet, the kind anyone fortunate enough to know her or work with her is grateful for.
On Tuesday, October 13, Losse will be in Hickory to share her poetry as part of the Poetry Hickory reading series. The reading will begin at 6:30 PM at Taste Full Beans Coffeehouse. The poem reprinted below is from Losse’s latest collection, Better with Friends, which will be available for purchase at Poetry Hickory.
A Satisfied Cathedral
I considered blueberry bushes
yesterday but didn’t buy any. Today it’s
raining hard. And the gloom of winter remains.
My dishwasher will not start, and my computer
monitor makes a high-pitched shriek. I look out
my window toward evergreens, where damp air
is too warm for snow. But even in February,
hope emerges--from the glow of a candle-
flame--and my heart becomes
a Byzantine cathedral of multi-colored tile.
I am bathed in incense and song, satisfied--
for the moment--with indoor light
Tuesday, August 4, 2009
Dead Mule Round-Up
DEAD MULE ROUND-UP
No, I haven’t lost my mind. There is not really going to be a round-up of farm animals, alive or dead, in Hickory, at least not in the sense you might be thinking.
“Dead Mule,” in the world of poets, is one of the best online literary journals in the country today, and I am particularly fond of it because it specializes in Southern literature. The Mule, as its friends call it, has published two of my chapbooks in the past two years and one of Tim Peeler’s (another Hickory poet) as well. It has also been the first journal to publish the works of 9 of my students at CVCC.
Officially the Dead Mule School of Southern Literature, editors Val MacEwan and Helen Losse have decided to hold a reading by poets who have been published in the Mule, and they’ve decided to let Poetry Hickory host that reading. The reading will take place at 6:00 on Tuesday, August 4 at Taste Full Beans Coffeehouse in downtown Hickory, the same place most Poetry Hickory readings occur.
Currently 6 poets will be featured, although Losse expects that number to increase to 8 or 9 by August 4. The 6 readers already committed are an impressive group to say the least. In addition to myself, Losse, and Peeler, the reading will include Jessie Carty of Charlotte (editor of the journal “Shape of a Box” and author of “At the A & P Meridiem”), Felicia Mitchell of Virginia (author of “The Cleft of the Rock”) and Terri Kirby Erickson of Salisbury (author of “Thread Count” and “Telling Tales of Dusk”).
These six readers have written a combined total of 18 collections of poetry. Anytime you get that many poets with that much experience together in the same room, something spectacular is bound to happen. The readings are free and open to the public. For more information, call me at 828-234-4266 or email me at asowens1@yahoo.com.
Sunday, June 28, 2009
Jacob Gryder
“Musings” for June 18, 2009
One of my greatest joys in doing this column is having the opportunity to offer encouragement and bring attention to young writers. Previously, I’ve featured the work of CVCC student Trisha Hart and former St. Stephens High School student, Liz Monish. Today I’m featuring three poems by CVCC student and Taylorsville native, Jacob Gryder.
Despite his relative youth, Jacob has already found success as a poet. His poems have been published in Dead Mule and are due out in Wild Goose Poetry Review and Bay Leaves. His poem, “No Less Dear a Price Might Purchase My Felicity,” was recently named an Honorable Mention in the Sam Ragan Poetry Contest sponsored by the Poetry Council of North Carolina. Gryder will transfer to Appalachian State University this fall to major in Comparative Literature.
Wine of My Gluttonous Ways
you are the wine of my gluttonous ways,
the mirror of my vanity.
you are the Venus of my lustful days,
the vengeance of my wrath.
you are the trophy of my prideful gaze,
the perfection of my envy.
yet you defy my greed.
The Blues
I’ve got a devil with an angel’s voice.
She can pray like Peter,
preach like Paul,
and sup with the Devil all night long.
Love
is a bird
that sings in winter,
or a rose
that grows through concrete.
Love is the only recourse
for the lonely-hearted
and the last best hope
for man.
I no longer wonder
at its nature.
I can only remark
at “how much more it is than nothing.”
One of my greatest joys in doing this column is having the opportunity to offer encouragement and bring attention to young writers. Previously, I’ve featured the work of CVCC student Trisha Hart and former St. Stephens High School student, Liz Monish. Today I’m featuring three poems by CVCC student and Taylorsville native, Jacob Gryder.
Despite his relative youth, Jacob has already found success as a poet. His poems have been published in Dead Mule and are due out in Wild Goose Poetry Review and Bay Leaves. His poem, “No Less Dear a Price Might Purchase My Felicity,” was recently named an Honorable Mention in the Sam Ragan Poetry Contest sponsored by the Poetry Council of North Carolina. Gryder will transfer to Appalachian State University this fall to major in Comparative Literature.
Wine of My Gluttonous Ways
you are the wine of my gluttonous ways,
the mirror of my vanity.
you are the Venus of my lustful days,
the vengeance of my wrath.
you are the trophy of my prideful gaze,
the perfection of my envy.
yet you defy my greed.
The Blues
I’ve got a devil with an angel’s voice.
She can pray like Peter,
preach like Paul,
and sup with the Devil all night long.
Love
is a bird
that sings in winter,
or a rose
that grows through concrete.
Love is the only recourse
for the lonely-hearted
and the last best hope
for man.
I no longer wonder
at its nature.
I can only remark
at “how much more it is than nothing.”
Thursday, May 21, 2009
CVCC Students In Mule and Goose
“Musings” for May 14
CVCC STUDENTS IN MULE AND GOOSE
I was in graduate school before I had my first real publication as a poet. The poem was called “Preserving the Horn,” and the journal was Southern Poetry Review. It was a big day for me. I was finally able to say that I was a “published poet,” and I felt like I must have finally figured something out about the world of writing and publishing poems.
One of the things I try to do with my own creative students is help them find the concrete encouragement to keep writing that publication brings. I’m very proud to say that this year, nine of my students at CVCC have had or are having their work published in two online journals. As of May 1, five students’ work went online in the journal Dead Mule, at www.deadmule.com. The students and their poems are as follows:
Keegan Blankenship: “Note to Life,” “Junkie,” and “Failed Remorse;”
Heather Carl: “Fleeting Innocence;”
Jacob Gryder: “Mirror,” “Ours Is the Night,” “The Story of a Rock,” and “Upon Having Read His Own Poem Aloud in Class;”
Theodora Netza: “For Maurice Krafft” and “Nightmare;” and
Kristen Sealy: “Dash.”
In a few weeks a new issue of the journal Wild Goose Poetry Review will also go online and will feature poems from six of my students, including Keegan’s “Steve,” Jacob’s “Like Van Gogh But More Ears,” and four others as follows:
Jenni Conklin: “Freckles” and “If You Ask Me Why I Brought a Bowler Hat to a Funeral;”
Houa Lee: “Helplessness” and “Scribbles;”
Deanna Mullins: “Self Service;” and
Graham Ponder: “Icarus.”
One of the joys of teaching creative writing at a community college is having the opportunity to see the wide variety of people who are still interested in poetry. This group is no exception to that variety. Keegan, from Hickory, is a dual enrollment homeschooled high school student preparing to attend UNCG to major in theater. Heather is from Newton and will dual major in English and Business at UNC. Jacob, from Alexander County, will major in Comparative Literature at ASU. Jenni is a Challenger High School student at CVCC who wants to study illustration at Rhode Island School of Design. Houa, from Taylorsville, wants to study political science at UNCC. Deanna is another Challenger student who wants to study forensic anthropology at Western Carolina. And Graham is a product engineer from Claremont with a degree in business administration from UNC Asheville.
I’m very proud to reprint two of these poems below:
Upon having read his own poem aloud in class
by Jacob Gryder
the man reads,
not a poet anymore
just a vocalist—
an orator
his oration no longer
a piece of his soul.
clears the throat,
but still the words
are whispered,
creaking phlegm
infiltrates his meaning.
and mournful silence falls
his peers wear quiet contemplation
as he sports a blush,
ruddy face and a million quiet heart beats,
his fate will, here, be decided.
in his chair he does not move,
but in the boy his spirit writhes
“out with it” he yells,
echoes resounding in his mind.
A note to life
by Keegan Blankenship
Next time you are feeling generous,
keep your lemons to yourself.
If you are freely distributing fruit,
I would much prefer grapes.
For with these grapes
and ample time,
we can sit on my back porch
and get drunk on the wine.
And then when you are good
and drunk;
that’s when I’ll take full
advantage of you.
Monday, April 20, 2009
In Defense of Post Avant Poetry
“Musings” for April 2, 2009
Some poets spend their time writing poetry; others divide their time between poetry and poetic theory and quite often seem to construct theory mostly as a means of justifying what they are trying to do in their own work. Over the years, it has seemed to me that those who are good at theory are not that good at poetry, while those who are good at poetry aren’t interested in spending much time justifying what they’re doing in the form of theory. Perhaps the nature of the two activities makes this bit of division unavoidable. Poetic theory is analytical and supremely rational in nature. Poetry, on the other hand, often seems much more intuitive, requiring a mind that is free from the constraints of consistent and thorough analysis and reason. For this reason, Carter Monroe is the truly exceptional poet, who has built a career of remarkable poetry and insightful theory.
Carter Monroe is a poet, novelist, philosopher, musicologist, and critic. He is the author of at least 5 collections of poetry, including The New Lost Blues and Billy Putrid, and the novel Journey. His poetry has been widely published in such journals as Rusty Truck, Dead Mule, Wild Goose Poetry Review, and The Pudding House Gang Anthology. He was also founder and editor of Rank Stranger Press, through which he helped writers like M. Scott Douglass, Ron Androla, D.B. Cox, S.A. Griffin, Jim Chandler, Jim Clark, and Pris Campbell find audiences.
Carter Monroe is one of the most important writers in the American South today, not only because of his own outstanding poetry, but also because of the guidance he has offered other poets. Hickory poet, Tim Peeler, says of him, “Carter Monroe is one of the most dedicated students of literature and language that I know. Through his own work and that of Rank Stranger Press, he has been a force in the small press for many years.”
More than anything else, I think what has enabled Monroe to reside comfortably in the worlds of theory and poetry is that unlike most theorists, he plays the game for a sheer love of the game. The ideal sportsman, Monroe doesn’t care if he wins or loses. In fact, it could be said that he often changes sides simply to make the game more interesting. In a recent email, Monroe commented on an article in which the author seemed determined to push the aesthetics of what is often called avant-garde (or more recently post-avant) poetry at the expense of Nobel Prize winning poet, Seamus Heaney. Monroe remarks, “This article reminds me of political discussions in which the sins of one candidate are compared to the sins of another in an attempt to explain who is superior by default. The politics of poetry is so "obvious" as to appear juvenile. Sometimes it seems like a series of cults in which the only common denominator is a refusal to bathe.” I have seen and heard Monroe leap just as quickly to the defense of post-avant poetry as he leaps to Heaney’s defense here. Monroe is just as comfortable writing traditionally-grounded poetry as he is writing post-avant work, and because of that he has a unique appreciation of good poetry regardless of the “school” of poetry it comes out of.
Monroe will be in Hickory on April 14 to read his work at Poetry with Morganton poet, Ted Pope. Poetry Hickory is sponsored by Main Street Rag and held at 6:30 at Taste Full Beans Coffeehouse on the second Tuesday of each month. The Carter Monroe poem below is reprinted from The Pudding House Gang Anthology.
Coffee
What this premise holds within a recreational span
is more than a superfluous afterthought.
Too often the creamer has run dry
necessitating the use of envelopes of powder.
The residue of which, free associates without context
or placid considerations of decay.
It’s the bloodstream in all its glory.
The infrastructure of bodily highways
with charts, grafts, and some idea of gravity,
routing its way toward potential blocks,
in possession of the ability to regenerate,
and curving until the path has become arcane.
The conversationalists fall into the natural order of habit,
precluding accrued genius and the concept of money as tender.
Erstwhile, the cavities remain at varying levels
unmeasured in terms of cerebral analysis,
incapable of judging vegetables
or a digestive system that functions on its own.
The walls are temporarily combustible
shrinking and expanding in a crash-and-burn mode.
Ideas running into the blur of circles
become calmed by morning papers and sacrosanct news.
The blip of day solidifies itself (only briefly) at a standstill
waiting impatiently for the next phase of segmentation.
Some poets spend their time writing poetry; others divide their time between poetry and poetic theory and quite often seem to construct theory mostly as a means of justifying what they are trying to do in their own work. Over the years, it has seemed to me that those who are good at theory are not that good at poetry, while those who are good at poetry aren’t interested in spending much time justifying what they’re doing in the form of theory. Perhaps the nature of the two activities makes this bit of division unavoidable. Poetic theory is analytical and supremely rational in nature. Poetry, on the other hand, often seems much more intuitive, requiring a mind that is free from the constraints of consistent and thorough analysis and reason. For this reason, Carter Monroe is the truly exceptional poet, who has built a career of remarkable poetry and insightful theory.
Carter Monroe is a poet, novelist, philosopher, musicologist, and critic. He is the author of at least 5 collections of poetry, including The New Lost Blues and Billy Putrid, and the novel Journey. His poetry has been widely published in such journals as Rusty Truck, Dead Mule, Wild Goose Poetry Review, and The Pudding House Gang Anthology. He was also founder and editor of Rank Stranger Press, through which he helped writers like M. Scott Douglass, Ron Androla, D.B. Cox, S.A. Griffin, Jim Chandler, Jim Clark, and Pris Campbell find audiences.
Carter Monroe is one of the most important writers in the American South today, not only because of his own outstanding poetry, but also because of the guidance he has offered other poets. Hickory poet, Tim Peeler, says of him, “Carter Monroe is one of the most dedicated students of literature and language that I know. Through his own work and that of Rank Stranger Press, he has been a force in the small press for many years.”
More than anything else, I think what has enabled Monroe to reside comfortably in the worlds of theory and poetry is that unlike most theorists, he plays the game for a sheer love of the game. The ideal sportsman, Monroe doesn’t care if he wins or loses. In fact, it could be said that he often changes sides simply to make the game more interesting. In a recent email, Monroe commented on an article in which the author seemed determined to push the aesthetics of what is often called avant-garde (or more recently post-avant) poetry at the expense of Nobel Prize winning poet, Seamus Heaney. Monroe remarks, “This article reminds me of political discussions in which the sins of one candidate are compared to the sins of another in an attempt to explain who is superior by default. The politics of poetry is so "obvious" as to appear juvenile. Sometimes it seems like a series of cults in which the only common denominator is a refusal to bathe.” I have seen and heard Monroe leap just as quickly to the defense of post-avant poetry as he leaps to Heaney’s defense here. Monroe is just as comfortable writing traditionally-grounded poetry as he is writing post-avant work, and because of that he has a unique appreciation of good poetry regardless of the “school” of poetry it comes out of.
Monroe will be in Hickory on April 14 to read his work at Poetry with Morganton poet, Ted Pope. Poetry Hickory is sponsored by Main Street Rag and held at 6:30 at Taste Full Beans Coffeehouse on the second Tuesday of each month. The Carter Monroe poem below is reprinted from The Pudding House Gang Anthology.
Coffee
What this premise holds within a recreational span
is more than a superfluous afterthought.
Too often the creamer has run dry
necessitating the use of envelopes of powder.
The residue of which, free associates without context
or placid considerations of decay.
It’s the bloodstream in all its glory.
The infrastructure of bodily highways
with charts, grafts, and some idea of gravity,
routing its way toward potential blocks,
in possession of the ability to regenerate,
and curving until the path has become arcane.
The conversationalists fall into the natural order of habit,
precluding accrued genius and the concept of money as tender.
Erstwhile, the cavities remain at varying levels
unmeasured in terms of cerebral analysis,
incapable of judging vegetables
or a digestive system that functions on its own.
The walls are temporarily combustible
shrinking and expanding in a crash-and-burn mode.
Ideas running into the blur of circles
become calmed by morning papers and sacrosanct news.
The blip of day solidifies itself (only briefly) at a standstill
waiting impatiently for the next phase of segmentation.
Tuesday, February 3, 2009
Review of Beverly Jackson's "Every Burning Thing" (Wild Goose, Summer 2008)
COMING THROUGH THE FIRE
A REVIEW OF BEVERLY JACKSON’S EVERY BURNING THING
One of the greatest and most vital tricks of life is valuing the past without being imprisoned by it. Beverly Jackson’s new collection of poems, Every Burning Thing, (Pudding House, 2008) presents us with a speaker who achieves that trick.
When a writer uses an indefinite pronoun like “thing” in a title, they invite the reader to speculate on the possible referents of that pronoun. Jackson helps us along in that speculation in every poem, not the least in the title poem where images of grief and despair make clear the speaker’s understanding that there is no time in the subconscious, that what “burned” as loss decades before, captured in images of Pompeii, the Hindenburg, a B17 bomber named The Big Bitch, still smolders as daily grief, fear, resentment, motivation, “the yearning undead” (“Resurrection”) in the present.
While the speaker recognizes that the past is always present, she also discovers that there is acceptance, understanding, and moving on. Thus, the voice of these poems is most often that of Randall Jarrell’s “Woman at the Washington Zoo” after the transformation, a speaker who experiences the return of “terrifying angels” who “dip into the bowl of my brain / to wash their long white fingers” (“Resurrection”). Surviving the crucible of life as a woman, the speaker emerges transformed. Freed of the self- and societally-imposed chains of the past, she becomes water,
not in water--
not swimmer, whale or porpoise plunging
under surface glint, corralled by ocean--
but . . .
the slack-jawed, spooky renegade
of slosh and swell, tidal flood,
blind mammoth rolled in slumber,
sexed up, trailing sperm, seaweed
in ceaseless undulations,
(To Be Water)
Not surprisingly, given the unifying conflict of this volume, these are, in the Blakean sense of the phrase, songs of experience. Having survived the trials of failed relationships, parenting, and loss, the speaker returns to writing, to herself, to self-expression and discovers in the poem “A Cycle”
The piles of rocks
about my feet are high--
some even reach my heart.
For years their forces
pelted me, but red welts
wilt with time and pen.
Within my palm I kiss each stone
before I lift my chin--and throw.
These experiences and this reclamation of self lead the speaker to a new embracing of life and possibilities as in the poem “Seasoned:”
This year May coaxes a shadow
behind the fence, dark-eyed kisses in a tub
of hot rain, dyeing her mouth the color of blooms,
promising, promising.
. . .
It won’t be July before company comes.
The clairvoyant nestled between her thighs
is sending out signals, tracking the leashes
tied to the ribs of lumbering men, synapses
popping in time with a tune, words too soft to hear.
Escaping the prison of the past, refusing regret, and opening oneself to the possibility of transformation leads the speaker even to pleasures in unexpected places, as in “Feeding Frenzy,” where the speaker and a compatriot discover the carefree comfort of post-menopausal sensuousness, where they become “like neutered queens, / lording it, eating earth, sky / and wild romaine.” Ultimately, experience and the shedding of the past lead the speaker to an understanding and satisfaction that surpass the fear of mortality, as expressed in “I Am Not Afraid of the Dead:”
I sleep in her nightgown,
wear her socks on cold mornings,
and while I brush my teeth,
she stares back at me. I am
smiling into the face of death.
I have keened in anguish
as mourners do; let guilt
gnaw on my mind--morsels
of remembrance chewed
and swallowed, a dutiful meal.
In the darkness of night
we laugh, she and I, speaking
of flesh flab, bone rot, sour breath.
All that pain in preparation for
carefree repose, the fist falling open.
Beverly Jackson’s Every Burning Thing is a series of poems full of inhabiting spirits, and like any spirit that touches us, the poems leave us momentarily chilled and shaken, and permanently changed, renewed, ever-so-slightly stronger in our beliefs about the world, our ability to stand on our own, ever-so-slightly more in touch with who we are.
BIO
Beverly Jackson is a poet, fiction writer, and artist living in Asheville, NC. She is the founder and former editor of Lit Pot Press, the e-zine Literary Potpourri, and the print journal Ink Pot. Her poetry and fiction hav appeared in over sixty venues, including Rattle, The Melic Review, Dead Mule, and Tattoo Highway. Her blog is at www.beverlyajackson.com
A REVIEW OF BEVERLY JACKSON’S EVERY BURNING THING
One of the greatest and most vital tricks of life is valuing the past without being imprisoned by it. Beverly Jackson’s new collection of poems, Every Burning Thing, (Pudding House, 2008) presents us with a speaker who achieves that trick.
When a writer uses an indefinite pronoun like “thing” in a title, they invite the reader to speculate on the possible referents of that pronoun. Jackson helps us along in that speculation in every poem, not the least in the title poem where images of grief and despair make clear the speaker’s understanding that there is no time in the subconscious, that what “burned” as loss decades before, captured in images of Pompeii, the Hindenburg, a B17 bomber named The Big Bitch, still smolders as daily grief, fear, resentment, motivation, “the yearning undead” (“Resurrection”) in the present.
While the speaker recognizes that the past is always present, she also discovers that there is acceptance, understanding, and moving on. Thus, the voice of these poems is most often that of Randall Jarrell’s “Woman at the Washington Zoo” after the transformation, a speaker who experiences the return of “terrifying angels” who “dip into the bowl of my brain / to wash their long white fingers” (“Resurrection”). Surviving the crucible of life as a woman, the speaker emerges transformed. Freed of the self- and societally-imposed chains of the past, she becomes water,
not in water--
not swimmer, whale or porpoise plunging
under surface glint, corralled by ocean--
but . . .
the slack-jawed, spooky renegade
of slosh and swell, tidal flood,
blind mammoth rolled in slumber,
sexed up, trailing sperm, seaweed
in ceaseless undulations,
(To Be Water)
Not surprisingly, given the unifying conflict of this volume, these are, in the Blakean sense of the phrase, songs of experience. Having survived the trials of failed relationships, parenting, and loss, the speaker returns to writing, to herself, to self-expression and discovers in the poem “A Cycle”
The piles of rocks
about my feet are high--
some even reach my heart.
For years their forces
pelted me, but red welts
wilt with time and pen.
Within my palm I kiss each stone
before I lift my chin--and throw.
These experiences and this reclamation of self lead the speaker to a new embracing of life and possibilities as in the poem “Seasoned:”
This year May coaxes a shadow
behind the fence, dark-eyed kisses in a tub
of hot rain, dyeing her mouth the color of blooms,
promising, promising.
. . .
It won’t be July before company comes.
The clairvoyant nestled between her thighs
is sending out signals, tracking the leashes
tied to the ribs of lumbering men, synapses
popping in time with a tune, words too soft to hear.
Escaping the prison of the past, refusing regret, and opening oneself to the possibility of transformation leads the speaker even to pleasures in unexpected places, as in “Feeding Frenzy,” where the speaker and a compatriot discover the carefree comfort of post-menopausal sensuousness, where they become “like neutered queens, / lording it, eating earth, sky / and wild romaine.” Ultimately, experience and the shedding of the past lead the speaker to an understanding and satisfaction that surpass the fear of mortality, as expressed in “I Am Not Afraid of the Dead:”
I sleep in her nightgown,
wear her socks on cold mornings,
and while I brush my teeth,
she stares back at me. I am
smiling into the face of death.
I have keened in anguish
as mourners do; let guilt
gnaw on my mind--morsels
of remembrance chewed
and swallowed, a dutiful meal.
In the darkness of night
we laugh, she and I, speaking
of flesh flab, bone rot, sour breath.
All that pain in preparation for
carefree repose, the fist falling open.
Beverly Jackson’s Every Burning Thing is a series of poems full of inhabiting spirits, and like any spirit that touches us, the poems leave us momentarily chilled and shaken, and permanently changed, renewed, ever-so-slightly stronger in our beliefs about the world, our ability to stand on our own, ever-so-slightly more in touch with who we are.
BIO
Beverly Jackson is a poet, fiction writer, and artist living in Asheville, NC. She is the founder and former editor of Lit Pot Press, the e-zine Literary Potpourri, and the print journal Ink Pot. Her poetry and fiction hav appeared in over sixty venues, including Rattle, The Melic Review, Dead Mule, and Tattoo Highway. Her blog is at www.beverlyajackson.com
Monday, February 2, 2009
Janice Moore Fuller & Wild Goose Poetry Journal, October 30, 2008
Once upon a time, if you wanted to experience good, contemporary poetry, you had to subscribe to a literary journal, typically published 3-4 times a year at a university or college. Those magazines still exist today and still publish the best contemporary poetry being written, and when I teach creative writing, I strongly encourage my students to subscribe to as many of them as they can afford to. Those subscriptions are what keep the journals publishing and the poets writing.
Nonetheless, thanks to the internet, poetry today is significantly more availabe, as new online journals have appeared and proliferated and as older, print journals have created online sites as well. I couldn’t possibly name even a small percentage of the online poetry journals and sites that exist today, all of which are free to visit. A search of “poetry journals” would, undoubtedly, result in thousands of relevant hits. In fact, a recent visit to one of the online poetry journal databases, duotrope.com, revealed about 1400 journals, the majority of which had websites of one sort or another.
My point is that if you’re interested in contemporary poetry there is no longer any excuse for not reading. It costs nothing but time to visit the online journals and websites. Two such sites of particular interest to me are the Dead Mule School of Southern Literature at www.deadmule.com, and Wild Goose Poetry Review at www.wildgoosepoetryreview.com.
Dead Mule is the online journal which published my chapbook, Deceptively Like a Sound, last April and will publish my next chapbook, The Book of Days, in January. More importantly, they have published a vast number of local and regional authors, including most of those who have read at Poetry Hickory.
Wild Goose is a journal which I help edit, selecting poems for inclusion and writing reviews of new collections of poetry. Both websites are wonderful places to encounter good contemporary poetry and to learn about other poets and their books. To highlight the quality of the work one can encounter at these sites, I’m very pleased to reprint, from the current issue of Wild Goose Poetry Review, Janice Moore-Fuller’s poem, “Cryogenics.” Fuller is the director of the creative writing program at Catawba College in Salisbury, NC. Her latest book, which is reviewed in the current issue of Wild Goose, is called Séance.
Cryogenics
Midnight is the hour when old food
takes chances, thankful not to be eaten.
Eggs beaten into omelets shape themselves
into swans and palm trees.
Goat cheese sneaks off the saucer,
skates across the ice-box grid.
Sardines wish upon a star-shaped paté
no one remembers buying.
What is the color of decay?
Lavender? Gray? If things
don’t find peace in the Kelvinator,
how can I forget Mother’s limbs
underground near the railroad tracks
still crossing, uncrossing?
Planes circle the graves, trailing
boundless ribbons I’d like to loop
through her hair. I’d dress her
in a cowl-neck gown, loose enough
to let her breathe. On some other
planet, the oxygen is as dry
and unmarrowed as her cool, cool bones.
Nonetheless, thanks to the internet, poetry today is significantly more availabe, as new online journals have appeared and proliferated and as older, print journals have created online sites as well. I couldn’t possibly name even a small percentage of the online poetry journals and sites that exist today, all of which are free to visit. A search of “poetry journals” would, undoubtedly, result in thousands of relevant hits. In fact, a recent visit to one of the online poetry journal databases, duotrope.com, revealed about 1400 journals, the majority of which had websites of one sort or another.
My point is that if you’re interested in contemporary poetry there is no longer any excuse for not reading. It costs nothing but time to visit the online journals and websites. Two such sites of particular interest to me are the Dead Mule School of Southern Literature at www.deadmule.com, and Wild Goose Poetry Review at www.wildgoosepoetryreview.com.
Dead Mule is the online journal which published my chapbook, Deceptively Like a Sound, last April and will publish my next chapbook, The Book of Days, in January. More importantly, they have published a vast number of local and regional authors, including most of those who have read at Poetry Hickory.
Wild Goose is a journal which I help edit, selecting poems for inclusion and writing reviews of new collections of poetry. Both websites are wonderful places to encounter good contemporary poetry and to learn about other poets and their books. To highlight the quality of the work one can encounter at these sites, I’m very pleased to reprint, from the current issue of Wild Goose Poetry Review, Janice Moore-Fuller’s poem, “Cryogenics.” Fuller is the director of the creative writing program at Catawba College in Salisbury, NC. Her latest book, which is reviewed in the current issue of Wild Goose, is called Séance.
Cryogenics
Midnight is the hour when old food
takes chances, thankful not to be eaten.
Eggs beaten into omelets shape themselves
into swans and palm trees.
Goat cheese sneaks off the saucer,
skates across the ice-box grid.
Sardines wish upon a star-shaped paté
no one remembers buying.
What is the color of decay?
Lavender? Gray? If things
don’t find peace in the Kelvinator,
how can I forget Mother’s limbs
underground near the railroad tracks
still crossing, uncrossing?
Planes circle the graves, trailing
boundless ribbons I’d like to loop
through her hair. I’d dress her
in a cowl-neck gown, loose enough
to let her breathe. On some other
planet, the oxygen is as dry
and unmarrowed as her cool, cool bones.
Trisha Hart, October 2, 2008
From the beginning of “Musings,” I’ve wanted to include poetry by local students alongside work by major local poets. When the major local poet (who shall remain nameless) that was supposed to send me work for this segment of the series failed to do so, I saw it as an opportunity to print some student poetry and let everyone know that we are open to work from college and high school students in the area.
The most brilliant person I’ve ever met was a student at a community college. So, it came as no surprise to me when last year in a community college classroom, I encountered perhaps the most promising student poet I’ve ever come across. Trisha Hart’s work was different from the usual fare in a beginning creative writing class from day one. Her poems were spare and understated but full of vivid imagery that staved off the sentimental while hinting at the fountain of emotion residing just below the surface of her words.
Trisha is a native of these parts, and still takes classes at Catawba Valley Community College. When I teach creative writing in the spring, I hope she’ll be there again. I’m not in the least surprised that her work has already found numerous outlets, having been published in Dead Mule and Sanctuary, and read aloud at Poetry Hickory and on WHKY’s First Talk Show with Hal Row. The three poems reprinted here attest to her developing mastery of the techniques of contemporary poetry.
The Ocean Speaks
I am an ocean and I will come back to you
Again and again…
I embrace the land with breaking arms,
Falling forward to offer my songs into wind,
Drawing back into myself to begin again.
Time comes and goes in echoes.
My yearning crashes into landscapes all day,
And I am sentenced to continue on.
To change the shape of that face that meets me!
To come alive again and feel the breath of my existence;
To stumble into wind and extend myself into distance!
There are no words to uncover me- for I have swallowed them all,
Drowning daybreaks, teardrops, sunsets.
I have felt the face of the moon upon my heart when it aches.
I have caught the falling of the night in one long drink.
My waters shiver in their own immensity,
Tossing and turning in restless sleep.
My memory lies open.
I have searched for you within myself for years,
Lost beyond my fingers’ froth.
I have seen everything that happens.
Still I wait emptying myself over and over
Looking for the one treasure I lost and could not recover.
I stay anchored firmly in the past,
Unable to escape myself when you leave.
So, as you go your way into dry land, do not forget.
I will always be here echoing one song:
What once was will come again;
What once was will come again.
**
Inside the Glass
Unbroken walls
of sober silence surround us,
hazy clouds
of hanging sorrow.
Through the glass
no one touches us.
Unrealities
haunt our halls.
You, stumbling
on the stair, stranger,
we knew you once.
Who are you now
when the floor rushes up
to meet you? Love climbs
in a wave against you.
The tide pulls you away.
You direct our days
to a boundless hunger,
awaken hurt that slept
frozen in our bones,
silent hours
of tear-stained fears,
unfinished anger.
We live our pain in echoes,
blocking passage to your well.
This house is hollow
and our hearts
numb.
**
In October
Shadows crept
through my back door,
stole summer from my hand,
left pieces
scattered by wind,
caught a firefly and lost it,
swam into night
leaving only the dark.
"Musings" is a weekly column featuring original poetry by Hickory-area writers or others giving readings of their work in the area. Submissions to "Musings" should be sent in the body of an email to Scott Owens at asowens1@yahoo.com. Please include a photo (jpeg) and a biography of 50 words or less with your submission. Previously published work is acceptable, but please include information about that publication with your submission. 2008 Visiting Writer at CVCC, Scott Owens is the author of four books of poetry, co-editor of Wild Goose Poetry Review, and coordinator of the Poetry Hickory reading series, held the second Tuesday of each month at Taste Full Beans Coffeehouse. See more of his work at www.scottowenspoet.com.
The most brilliant person I’ve ever met was a student at a community college. So, it came as no surprise to me when last year in a community college classroom, I encountered perhaps the most promising student poet I’ve ever come across. Trisha Hart’s work was different from the usual fare in a beginning creative writing class from day one. Her poems were spare and understated but full of vivid imagery that staved off the sentimental while hinting at the fountain of emotion residing just below the surface of her words.
Trisha is a native of these parts, and still takes classes at Catawba Valley Community College. When I teach creative writing in the spring, I hope she’ll be there again. I’m not in the least surprised that her work has already found numerous outlets, having been published in Dead Mule and Sanctuary, and read aloud at Poetry Hickory and on WHKY’s First Talk Show with Hal Row. The three poems reprinted here attest to her developing mastery of the techniques of contemporary poetry.
The Ocean Speaks
I am an ocean and I will come back to you
Again and again…
I embrace the land with breaking arms,
Falling forward to offer my songs into wind,
Drawing back into myself to begin again.
Time comes and goes in echoes.
My yearning crashes into landscapes all day,
And I am sentenced to continue on.
To change the shape of that face that meets me!
To come alive again and feel the breath of my existence;
To stumble into wind and extend myself into distance!
There are no words to uncover me- for I have swallowed them all,
Drowning daybreaks, teardrops, sunsets.
I have felt the face of the moon upon my heart when it aches.
I have caught the falling of the night in one long drink.
My waters shiver in their own immensity,
Tossing and turning in restless sleep.
My memory lies open.
I have searched for you within myself for years,
Lost beyond my fingers’ froth.
I have seen everything that happens.
Still I wait emptying myself over and over
Looking for the one treasure I lost and could not recover.
I stay anchored firmly in the past,
Unable to escape myself when you leave.
So, as you go your way into dry land, do not forget.
I will always be here echoing one song:
What once was will come again;
What once was will come again.
**
Inside the Glass
Unbroken walls
of sober silence surround us,
hazy clouds
of hanging sorrow.
Through the glass
no one touches us.
Unrealities
haunt our halls.
You, stumbling
on the stair, stranger,
we knew you once.
Who are you now
when the floor rushes up
to meet you? Love climbs
in a wave against you.
The tide pulls you away.
You direct our days
to a boundless hunger,
awaken hurt that slept
frozen in our bones,
silent hours
of tear-stained fears,
unfinished anger.
We live our pain in echoes,
blocking passage to your well.
This house is hollow
and our hearts
numb.
**
In October
Shadows crept
through my back door,
stole summer from my hand,
left pieces
scattered by wind,
caught a firefly and lost it,
swam into night
leaving only the dark.
"Musings" is a weekly column featuring original poetry by Hickory-area writers or others giving readings of their work in the area. Submissions to "Musings" should be sent in the body of an email to Scott Owens at asowens1@yahoo.com. Please include a photo (jpeg) and a biography of 50 words or less with your submission. Previously published work is acceptable, but please include information about that publication with your submission. 2008 Visiting Writer at CVCC, Scott Owens is the author of four books of poetry, co-editor of Wild Goose Poetry Review, and coordinator of the Poetry Hickory reading series, held the second Tuesday of each month at Taste Full Beans Coffeehouse. See more of his work at www.scottowenspoet.com.
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