Poetry Tips: Baby It's Cold Outside

Think of all the words used to describe cold weather: cool, chilly, freezing, icy, etc. While the Florida weather here has thus far been mild, there are some chilly mornings that have inspired me to write about the first big chill that swept into my bones. I urge you to try your hand in writing about cold weather and its accomplices such as frost, ice, sleet, slush, snow, anything and everything that comes to mind. Honor the winter season with a poem about its temperature!

Good luck to all who try it, please stop in next week for another featured site…

Anti Open Submissions

Send 3 to 7 unpublished contemporary poems as a single attachment (Word .doc or RTF) via e-mail to anti-poetryATanti-poetryDOTcom along with “a cover letter with your name, contact information, a contributor-note biography of 50 words or less, and a statement of 50 words or less on what you’re against in poetry.” They are open to submissions year round and they do accept simultaneous submissions as long as you let them know immediately if your poems are accepted elsewhere.

For more details, use the link below:
http://anti-poetry.com/guidelines/

Good luck to all who submit, please stop by tomorrow for more Poetry Tips…

Poems Found by Poet Hound

http://www.octopusmagazine.com/issue12/main.html
Lynn Xu’s Our Love Is Pure


http://anti-poetry.com/arroyora1/
Rane Arroyo’s Even Tricksters Get The Blues


Thanks for clicking in, please drop in tomorrow for more Open Submissions…

Luci Tapahonso's A Breeze Swept Through

Luci Tapahonso was born in Shiprock, New Mexico, and her first language was Navajo, her second language, English. Her collection of poems, A Breeze Swept Through, incorporates Navajo words throughout and is an absolutely beautiful collection full of wistful memories, tender laughs, and family history and its traditions. Ms. Tapahonso is also a professor of English, Women Studies, and American Indian Studies at the University of New Mexico in Albuquerque. Thanks to the internet, I am able to share some of her wonderful poems with you:

I copy and pasted the poem (which I cannot format the way it shows on-line so please use the link to see the correct format) from the following link:
http://www.hanksville.org/storytellers/luci/poems/hillsbrothers.html

Hills Brothers Coffee

My uncle is a small man.
In Navajo, we call him, "shidá'í,"
my mother's brother.
He doesn't know English,
but his name in the white way is Tom Jim.
He lives about a mile or so
down the road from our house.
One morning he sat in the kitchen,
drinking coffee.
I just came over, he said,
The store is where I'm going to.
He tells me about how my mother seems to be gone
every time he comes over.
Maybe she sees me coming
then runs and jumps in her car
and speeds away!
he says smiling.
We both laugh - just to think of my mother
jumping in her car and speeding.
I pour him more coffee
and he spoons in sugar and cream
until it looks almost like a chocolate shake.
Then he sees the coffee can.
Oh, that's that coffee with the man in a dress,
like a church man.
Ah-h, that's the one that does it for me.
Very good coffee.
I sit down again and he tells me,
Some coffee has no kick.
But this one is the one.
It does it good for me.
I pour us both a cup
and while we wait for my mother,
his eyes crinkle with the smile and he says,
Yes, ah yes. This is the very one
(putting in more sugar and cream).
So I usually buy Hills Brothers Coffee.
Once or sometimes twice a day,
I drink a hot coffee and
it sure does it for me.

I love this little picture of every day life between and the poet and her Uncle. She includes a Navajo word with which I wish I knew how to pronounce and leaves me thirsting for more such glimpses into the native language. It’s a sweet little anecdote about something most would find trivial that obviously means a lot to Ms. Tapahonso and reminds me of my own family’s small preferences that make me smile. I’m sure you have your own little preferences in your family that make you smile also.



This poem is also copy-and-pasted from a link, please use the link to see how the poem should actually look in the correct format:
http://www.hanksville.org/storytellers/luci/poems/together.html

They Are Together Now

they were returning from Gallup late at night
singing with the radio and laughing
he was driving too fast too fast
he missed the curve
the crash the immediate silence
they whimpered as
the warm blood spread into the cold asphalt cracks
amidst the glass and tangled metal their bodies writhed
moaning and crying until they rose above
they left then watching in silence
oh the soothing silence
the incredible serenity
they rose leaving the steaming blood
ticking of metal settling down
the tinkle of glass slipping
the tin whine of a dying radio
they gather with others now
in the thin darkness
airy, light ghosts sometimes they talk laughing
standing in little groups
waiting to befriend anyone
who might happen along
they are happy
on the flat plateau of that other world: death
that quiet pleasure
they are all together now.

While the poem depicts the violence and nightmarish details of death, Luci Tapahonso also captures the surreal idea of a happy afterlife turning this into a poem with a happy ending. The most moving part for me is when they couple rises above the scene: “crying until they rose above/they left then watching in silence/the incredible serenity/…leaving the steaming blood/ticking of metal...” She turns the noise down with her words, the wreck fading into silence and peace. To capture the noise, silence, the pain, then peace, all in a relatively short poem is admirable and well executed by Ms. Tapahonso.


There are countless poems in this collection that are not found on-line. “Yes, It Was My Grandmother” speaks of her Grandmother’s ability to tame wild horses, “skirts flying, hair tied securely in the wind and dust./She rode those animals hard and was thrown,…She worked until they were meek/and wanting to please.” As Luci continues to describe her mother in admiration she also thanks her, as her Grandmother hated to cook (much like myself in fact) with the lines: “Oh Grandmother/who freed me from cooking./Grandmother, you must have made sure/I met a man who would not share the kitchen.” I adore this poem and urge you to flip straight to it when you get your hands on a copy of this book either by library or on-line, or in a book-store.

There are more and more poems I could introduce you to but I urge you to use the internet links I provide here, peruse your local library, book-store, or on-line and get your hands on a copy yourself. My husband found this book in Santa Fe, New Mexico at one of the local book-stores while we were on vacation and it is now one of my favorite books of poetry on my shelf.

If you enjoyed these poems as much as I have, then you will be happy to find more poems and learn more about Luci Tapahonso by using the link below:

http://www.hanksville.org/storytellers/luci/


Thanks always for reading, as a result of the Thanksgiving Festivities, the posts will resume next Wednesday so please drop in next week and I wish you all a Happy Thanksgiving Holiday!

Julie Andrews and her love of poetry

My husband heard Julie Andrews and her daughter talk about their love of poetry and the poems they loved and the poems they have written over the generations and knew I would absolutely love it. I know you’ll absolutely love listening, too, so please click the link below and be prepared to be tickled pink!

Julie Andrews in an interview with Diane Rehm:

http://wamu.org/programs/dr/09/11/19.php#28912


Thanks for checking in, please drop in tomorrow for another featured poet…

Poetry Tips: The Dead Poets Society

I cannot believe it has taken me this many years to finally see the movie, Dead Poets Society, but it has and it was excellent! So this week I urge you to check it out either at your local library or video store because it is a wonderful movie with passion for life and poetry.

May you be inspired those of you who watch the movie and please drop in next week for another poetry site…

Bitter Oleander Open Submissions

Send your imaginative and brilliant poems via snail mail to Bitter Oleander Press along with self-addressed stamped envelope enclosed to:


The Bitter Oleander Press
4983 Tall Oaks Drive
Fayetteville, New York 13066-9776
http://www.bitteroleander.com
Email: info@bitteroleander.com


Be sure to check out their web-site and guidelines in further detail at:

http://www.bitteroleander.com/

Good luck to all who submit and please drop in tomorrow for more Poetry Tips…

Poems Found by Poet Hound

http://www.versedaily.org/2009/weddingpinata.shtml
Wedding Pinata by James Hoch

http://www.sundress.net/wickedalice/davis29.html
After a Fight, Necelle Davis

Thanks for clicking in, please drop in tomorrow for more Open Submissions…

Julian Gallo's Divertimiento

Julian Gallo’s chapbook, Divertimiento, is book ten in Alternating Current’s Propaganda Press’ Pocket Protector Book series. Julian Gallo hails from New York and is a writer/painter/musician with quite a few publications under his belt including A Symphony of Olives that was also featured previously on this blog. His current collection of poems published by Alternating Current is a biting and despondent view of the world. Below I will feature several poems that caught my eye:

Gulag

I may be eaten by butterflies when the
revolution begins.
How cold is the touch of the female
hand
when it’s apparent that she doesn’t
want you?
It might feel like freezer burn, but the
revolution is circular
and constant; kicking up clumps of dirt
into your face.
I hear Russians outside, arguing. Over
what, I don’t know?
But the revolution didn’t work for
them either and, like myself,
sometimes feel as though I’ve been
cast into a spiritual gulag…
waiting…always waiting…

I may be kissed by mollusks when the
revolution begins.
How cold is the touch of humanity
when it’s apparent that its nothing of
the kind.
Better wake up and look out the
window again;
there’s nothing out there but bare trees
and broken spirits…
waiting…always waiting…

What grabbed my attention are the strange things that eat away at the poet, such as butterflies and mollusks, how even the small things may get to him before “the revolution begins.” Although I am not sure what sort of revolution the poet is anticipating, the here and now is depicted as cold and heartless, by touch of woman, by touch of humanity. I’m curious to know what kind of revolution Mr. Gallo is searching for?


Bound For Glory

Never have
I felt
so strange,
tired, lost.
The wheels
of change
spin –
Bound for
glory but
lost without
a map.

I enjoy this poem because I think it can be applied personally and universally to any who read it. Whether an individual, a society, or a country strives for “Glory” there are many confusing obstacles that can make one or all lose their way and there is never a set of step-by-step rules for achieving the goal of “Glory.”


Dogma

Words come off like bombs –
blind, blind, so blind…
The answers are always easy
and nothing is beyond the narrow
parameters in which you see life
in all its black and white glory…
Opening up is beyond comprehension;
after all, you know all.
I want to drop to my knees
and partake in your infinite
knowledge;
passed on like a missile with no
guidance
and into the heart of empty space
only to be lost, without direction;
an education wasted and strewn about
like confetti.
But the only thing that I know for
certain
is that you really know nothing at all.

This poem could easily have been titled “Know-It-All” because that’s what leaps to my mind immediately. This type of person being described is one we are all too familiar with. Someone whose “words come off like bombs” is a great way to describe the unwanted and unexpected advice or repartee of a person who thinks they always have the answers no matter how limited their life experience. I like that the ending points out that the “education” is “wasted” and that the person really knows nothing at all. This type of poem is always fun to read and write, to use defiance through the written word.


If you enjoyed this sample you can purchase a copy Diveritimiento for yourself at Alternating Current for $3.00 (+2$ US shipping or $3 out-of-US shipping) at:

http://alt-current.com

or you may mail a check made out to Alternating Current along with a note specifying which chapbook to:

Alternating Current
PO Box 398058
Cambridge, MA 02139 USA

Thanks always for reading, please click in tomorrow for more Poems Found by Poet Hound…

Dagosan's Haiku Diary

Wonderful haiku poems by David A Giacalone, I urge you to check them out at:

http://dagosanshaikudiary.blogspot.com/

Thanks for clicking in, please drop in tomorrow for another featured poet…

Poetry Tips: Thanksgiving

Yes, it is the time of year for family gatherings and good cheer, so why not create a Thanksgiving poem counting your blessings and thanking loved ones at the dinner table this season? It doesn’t have to be long, just heartfelt. You can also go to poetryfoundation.org for holiday poems for inspiration!

Good luck to all who try it, please drop in next week for another features site…

Juked Open Submissions

“There are no limits on word count for prose submissions—we like stories of all sizes, so long as the colors fit. (These days, though, we tend to favor stories running longer than so-called "flash fiction.") Send us just one piece at a time, regardless of length. For poetry, send a maximum of five poems.

In all instances we prefer Rich Text Format files (.rtf), but won't begrudge old Word (.doc) documents. Do not use new Word documents (.docx), as many of us are still living in the 1997-2003 years.

We encourage simultaneous submissions, but let us know immediately if your work has been accepted elsewhere. Previously published material, we are sorry to say, will not be considered.

Your work will always remain yours—we ask only for first- and one-time and archival rights. That means we use your work once, and then we place it lovingly into our archive.

If you don't hear back within four months write us with Query in the subject line and we'll see if it was misplaced.

We do not yet pay our contributors with hard currency, but are hopeful that will change sometime in the future.

Visit the Print page for information regarding print submissions.”

Send submissions to: submissionsATjukedDOTcom


Good luck to all who submit, please drop in tomorrow for more Poetry Tips…

Poems Found by Poet Hound

http://www.poetryfoundation.org/archive/poem.html?id=179992
"Nest" by Marianne Boruch

http://www.juked.com/2009/09/sha-zam.asp
"Sha-Zam" by Luke Degnan


http://accreditedonlinedegrees.org/10-places-to-help-find-a-home-for-your-writing/
Linda Smith sent me her link for writers looking for a home for their words and I hope you’ll check it out, too, by using the link above!

Thanks for clicking in, please drop in tomorrow for more Open Submissions...

Tim Scannell’s Eden, Over

Tim Scannell’s collection of poems in “Eden, Over…” was produced by Cedar Hill Publications in 1998. This collection is elegant and eloquent, Mr. Scannell has a wonderful gift for rhyme and I am happy to share some of his poems with you:

Endurance

I have decided, this November
to let each loss not longer linger.
Maples, naked, gray against snow
stripped of flutter, yet still show
their growth of limb & farthest bud
of thunderstorm & August drought.

Since it is November I couldn’t help including this poem, especially since it has a wonderful rhythm and rhyme to it. I really enjoy the lines “Maples, naked, gray against snow/stripped of flutter” to signify the absence of its leaves. It also makes a wonderful visual.


Swimmer

Tread, then, a while. Observe the swell
whose undulation flows, at its pace,
toward the place. Stop for breath, to feel
each foot-leg, hand-arm separately,
unionsoned a moment in the crossing
of palm-pulled water, sequenced kick.
So, all is well.
Tread a measure
- dance where you are –
up, up to each crest (all there),
there beautiful, even down each long,
gently-sloped trough which is
the obvious way of tidal water.
There, as eye shuts going under with
each stroke. Rest and be thankful: the coast
afloat, horizon to horizon.

The visual of the swimmer through the waves is executed perfectly in Mr. Scannell’s lines. I really like the words “palm-pulled water” as it creates a sense of feeling the water, not just picturing a swimmer moving through the waves. The poem also creates a sense of peacefulness through words such as “gently-sloped trough” and “Rest and be thankful: the coast/ afloat…”


Close Call

Down the ravine
- long talus, scree –
Nerve
Slipped butt-hot skid
Reaching
cedar branch gripped
wrenching shoulder happily
safe
- stars tonight –
yet down, slower
for another thousand feet
(aching ankles, fried soles)
Triumphant kneeling in
an eddy, finally hearing the
boulder-water-deafening
roar, and spray cooling salt
dripping from my eyes.

Tim Scannell creates a disjointed lined poem that coincides perfectly with the subject of the close-call car crash down the ravine and the racing thoughts of the driver. The sounds, the sights, the terrifying “wrenching shoulder” versus the serene “stars tonight”, the sounds of “boulder-water-deafening/roar” while landing with “spray cooling salt/dripping from my eyes” give this poem exciting motion with words.


If you enjoyed this sample, note that Mr. Scannell has recently been featured in Alternating Current’s Poeisis in a previous post and you can find him at bigcitylit.com to find out more about his writing style.

Thanks always for reading, please click in tomorrow for more Poems Found by Poet Hound…

Pathetic.org

This site is anything but! Thanks to my fellow dance studio member, Kristin, I have now discovered this site for poets and poems of all varieties. I loved the Halloween Contest poems, the first place winning poem is so charming! Please check it all out at:

http://pathetic.org/

Thanks for clicking in, please drop in tomorrow for another featured poet…