Archive for the ‘Business’ Tag

Elimae 2007   Leave a comment

Domestic goat.

Image via Wikipedia

To read this oldie but goodie, click here

The journal elimae holds a special place in my heart because it was one of the first places to publish me back in 07 when I decided to really get serious about writing and publishing.

The poem, “Was God, Cooked Dinner that Night” holds a special place in my heart because it was written shortly after I joined Scrawl and participated in my first flash exercise. The prompts were goat, bolt, and motion.  My father was still raising goats, I’d already written a goat poem about that the previous year, so this time I felt obliged to create a brand new story, a poem straight from my head, with little to do with the heart. And, according to Coop Renner over at elimae, it worked.

Try it for yourself. Write something about a goat, a bolt, and motion.

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Juked 2011   5 comments

Steacie Science and Engineering Library at Yor...

Image via Wikipedia

To read the poem Between Meals, click here

Getting laid off is hard. Getting divorced, is hard. Put them together, you have the hell that was my 2010.

The lay off was made better, or worse, by the fact that the school system offered me another job, that I wasn’t necessarily qualified for, that I hadn’t spent years and money training for. A job that took me out of the library and into numerous classrooms, with nowhere really to safely store my purse, my lunch, no desk or shelf of my own. Coming from three years of pretty much having a giant library to myself, that was hard. I almost didn’t take it, but had to weigh in the economic needs of my family, including health insurance.

So, I took the job, and this poem is born from that experience.

Happily, another library position became available and I was able to leave that other position, with no regrets. It turns out, this is a better place for me than my old library would have been had I stayed, so the lay off was a good thing. God knows what He’s doing.

Today, write about an unhappy or uncomfortable situation. Between Meals is,  I think, one of the best poems I’ve ever written, that comes out of one of the worst situations I’ve ever been in. Use your own worst experiences to create something beautiful of your won.

3K Down, and No Ending in Sight!   2 comments

Zombie Love Forever

Image by Walt Jabsco via Flickr

Writing during the week is difficult. By the time I get home, get kids, get everyone fed and washed and asleep, there isn’t much drive left. On the weekends, however, even with kids, I get a nice little gap of time to write. Naptime is my time, and I squeeze as much as I can out of it. Today, that squeeze got me over 3ooo words, and 6 pages. I don’t think I’ll have a whole novel at the end of the month, and I haven’t even touched the project I went into NaNo with the first week, but progress has been made, and I’m grateful for the push into longer projects.

Today I introduced new love interests for both of the main characters, creating two separate love triangles. Oooo, tensiony, right? I mean, especially considering two of the four people involved are zombies??? Jane has a best friend as well,  and her favorite pizza is Hawaiian barbecue chicken. The back story is just about wrapped up, and a lot of the action is going to pick up very, very soon. Considering I myself don’t have a clue as to where it all ends, I’m pretty pumped.

Alas, tomorrow the project goes on  the back burner, as I will be in NYC at the Bowery Poetry Club at 4 pm doing a reading. If you’re in the neighborhood, you can come. If you aren’t, you can watch it live. Find more here: http://www.bowerypoetry.com/#Event/85825

Xelas   1 comment

 

Middle East

Image by rogiro via Flickr

 

Xelas is gone. It makes me sad, because in 2008 they published one of my favorite poems I ever wrote, “Because This is Not Baghdad“. A short, quiet poem that captures a moment in time, it says a lot in a very small space.  It’s patriotic, with a twist of irony, a headline you’ll never see in the news.

I wrote this poem on a clear October day, three years ago. I had been listening to NPR in the car, the BBC world news broadcast was on, and as I listened to a story of an orphanage blown to bits in Iraq, I watched a man and his daughter walk out of Wal-Mart, lugging pumpkins in their shopping cart. The juxtaposition was perfect, and sad, and it was a good thing I had a notebook handy.

Because Xelas is no more, I’m reprinting the poem here. My hope is that as you carve your pumpkins this year you will appreciate the peace that allows for tradition to go on unchanged in our country, and remember those in our world, both in Iraq and down the street, who cannot afford such luxury.

Because this is Not Baghdad

A man dances his 7 week old daughter
in The Wal Mart parking lot
sunshine freshly peeled
pumpkins bought up the road
in the trunk, still damp
Mama behind her register, 5 minutes to go
rows and rows of bread, no lines
white– whole grain– wheat

Out of Our   Leave a comment

Homeless Hoarder

Image by richardmasoner via Flickr

Read the issue here

Out of Our is a great, gritty, print zine out of San Francisco that isn’t afraid of throwing a bit of its grit on the internet as well. In my publishing history I have it down as a 2009 credit, but I actually  had two poems in the January 2010 issue.

Both “The Collector” and “It’s All Over” are sad poems illustrating a sense of loss. The Collector has never had love, and so he fills his life with things, trash picked from the ground, to compensate for the lack of people in his life. Sadly, the more trash he collects, the more humanity avoids him.

“It’s All Over” was written while watching a couple eat together at the local casino. It was obvious that while they were together, they weren’t “together” any more. Both were in their own little worlds, avoiding contact with one another, barely speaking. At that point in my life, I was used to eating alone, and was deeply affected watching this deterioration. I vowed I would never again allow myself to be caught in such a relationship. Sadly, I have not been able to keep that vow.

Today, go people watching. Don’t try to write a poem or story as you people watch, just jot down short notes you can use later. Hypothesize about their lives, put yourself in their shoes. Create.

Gloom Cupboard, 2009   2 comments

 

A bed with canopy.

Image via Wikipedia

 

Read the issue here

I don’t often write non fiction. When I do, it tends to be a little hyper-non-fiction, exaggerating things to get a laugh or make a point. The article Gloom Cupboard printed of mine entitled “Beds I Have Known” does both.

I’d been toying with writing a poem about painting my bed when I was in my late teens, in my first apartment, and how my mother freaked when she saw it. But I could never get it right. Every time I would write it out in a poem, it seemed clunky, overblown, too gushy. So I just looked at my free write notes, started expanding on other beds, other stories, and it came together in a way I really liked. I tried taking myself out of it, making each bed a short story with fictitious characters, but it didn’t ring true. So, I just bit the bullet, kept me in there, and started sending it out as a non fiction essay. Gloom Cupboard snatched it up.

This long weekend, look around your home and view your furniture with a critical eye. What means something to you beyond a place to sit or sleep or eat? Is there a piece that has a family history? A personal history? A treasure you brought back from the flea market or dump and breathed new life into? Write an essay about it, describe it, describe your history with it.

The Shine Journal   Leave a comment

Baby eating baby food (blended green beans)

Image via Wikipedia

http://www.theshinejournal.com/petersonhelen.htm

The Shine Journal published a story of mine last month called “Baby Love“. The story is based upon experiences I’ve had with all three of my children, but was written when all I had was my oldest, who is now 12. As a baby, wherever we went people would be offering him gum, candy, stopping us in the middle of the supermarket to goo-goo at him. What was funny was usually the offered treat was completely inappropriate for an infant without a single tooth.

Because this was my reality for so long, grocery shopping trips that would take me five minutes alone taking 30 minutes or more, I had to write about it. I did. however, give it a little twist, thinking about how the adult behind the baby might benefit from all the attention given their little one, and how someone NOT used to having a baby would handle it when an infant is thrust upon them for whatever reason.

What is your reality today? What occurs in your day to day life that is mundane to you, but could be interesting to someone who lives a different kind of life. Switch places with them, use your imagination and write it out.