Hope you’re having an easeful time of it. Of what? Whatever journey you’re on. I know it isn’t really easeful. But you know, words make a world all its own. Each of us are on a journey and if you’re feeling hammered in some way, then take ease from positive words. It matters what kind of discourse you’re engaged in. In what way do words make a world? It’s called story-telling. It’s like in dance when you flip your legs and turn, you face a new direction, that change in your body changes your outlook. So it matters how you choose to describe your journey. Alright, no secret but the Spring/Summer 2018 issue’s all about journeying. Read about it here. We’re about to wrap up the Fall/Winter 2017/2018 issue. So think of your body, your outlook, your journey and submit!
Your poems of grief continue to move me, like this one. Haven’t you laid down at night thinking that your body’s breaking down, and will fail you, and may that day be delayed evermore? Yup yup…me too. The slowing down. The frailness of body parts. The …. aaargh!!!! We’re not ok. So what now? Show love. I guess. Give words that hold meaning for others. Like poems. I know I’m trying to avoid grief but…go ahead, let it all out. We’re into our final week as the journal’s current issue, with the theme of Memento Mori, closes end of the week. So shout shout, let it all out… right now the song’s in my head.
Let it all out
These are the things I can do without
I’m talking to you
Write a quiet/ranting/quizzical poem. Whatever rocks you.
You guys know this is the new moon. So it’s the lunar new year. Spring! In case you’d fallen asleep, Red Wolf Journal has announced its theme for the Spring/Summer 2018 issue. Coming Home, it is. I didn’t realise till this morning that we had come full circle. Red Wolf’s first issue, back in Spring 2014, also had home as its theme, then called “The Art of Habitation”. We’d taken the first uncertain steps, Tawnya and I. So I had said to Tawnya this morning, “Know what that means? It’d be our finale.” I mean, things have a cycle right? So many people have eclipsed out of our poetry community so I figure it’s time. Well not now, but you know, in August 2018. If you feel the poetry matters, then you might want to leave your poetic footprints behind. Paw prints let’s call it, since it’s the year of the dog. Woof woof! Say something in a poem, alright?
Are you still writing? I’ve not. Haven’t been. So I thought I would. I’d been busy in real life. That’s what I said. But I did busy myself with poetry stuff too. It’s a welcome distraction. So yes there’ll be a Spring/Summer 2018 issue and the theme is “Coming Home”. You can read about it on 1 March 2018. If the theme in our Fall/Winter 2017/2018 is to “remember you must die”, our Spring/Summer 2018 issue’s theme would be to “remember you must live”. What do you live for? Is it to pay bills? That’s real life right? Is there nothing certain but death and taxes? Or is there some deeper meaning? You guys think about this stuff right? I mean, what were you born to do? What does your life mean? Start thinking for our next issue!
It’s almost February! Has it been a life-changing January so far? I don’t know. Maybe you’ve lost weight or something. Life is somewhat unpredictable. So who knows? A poem too. I never know what kind of poem I’ll end up with. But it does fill one with a kind of energy. Creative energy, you can call it that. That’s a very important kind of energy to have, I feel. It keeps you alive. If you don’t create you could very well be dead or stagnating. I guess that’s why I keep coming back to poetry. You guys also spread that energy to me. That’s why. You keep me on my toes. So for today, the prompt is to write about the unpredictable, or have your poem turn out in an unpredictable way.
Not a very optimistic note to sound for January, but still, one does like a clean slate. I suppose too I’ve just watched someone talk about letting go of toxic friends. Friends? Frenemies? Those who are nice in front of you and then talk bad behind your back. Those you should immediately black out, even if they come under your radar. Those specimens are rightfully called hypocrites. They’re their own worst critics. So welcome the clean slate. Clean living. Clean soulful living, that’s what you should aim for. Number one priority. Goodbye toxic people. You can write about saying your truth about something.
Hey Joni Mitchell just came on the radio singing “Both Sides Now”. I’m reading a book about love–kind of a metacommentary–which does not really interest me because I really like to get involved in my stories and not look above them. It seems to me there’re really two types of people: those who get involved and those who don’t. Of course we can fall into either categories depending on the context. But you know what I mean. You’re either all in or you’re out. I know I know… it’s easier to sit on the fence. To hedge. But I really believe it’s the passionate ones who mean something, or can mean something. What if you’re the cool as ice queen? It means you’re above it all, right? You’re some kind of Estella? It’s just a facade. Real life broke her too. So for today write some kind of facade poem.
OMG..it’s been a while. I’ve been gone. I’ve gone on. How I wanted to go, and now I’m gone or going. I’ll be gone because I’ve been up to my eyeballs in other work. My other life. Non-poetic life. Funny but when you’re gone you really are. When you’re far gone then you won’t even be thinking about poetry. I wasn’t. It’s like it’s become a stranger. Alien life form or something. I inhabit the real world. Not a fanciful one. But then tired as I am, I wanted to check out the fanciful tonight. Won’t you conjure once more? No? You’re cured? Cured of poetry madness? Won’t you accept my prescription of poetry? Once a poet always a poet? The prompt is to conjure, preferably something fanciful.
You know what I like about Christmas? Its rituals? Maybe. But it’s seeing those whom you have known for a while. The kids grown up. The changes and challenges they’re going through, those that you yourself have had to navigate at their age. The ageing of the adults–you realise that with a tug of the heart. It’s bewildering. We’re all in this together. So we’d like to hold on to the memories, for not to repeat this ritual of Christmas is to let go. To let go of the people. Are they your people, you ask yourself. Each one is different. So it’s really up to you to connect with them each in your own way. Is it right to let go of all if you do not like a particular person? You ask yourself again and again. So your prompt is to write about your mixed feelings about Christmas.
Hey people, it’s about a week left of 2017. For me the year has sweetened as it went along. So yes it’s ending on a sweet note. It seems to be a game changing year, looking set to set a new course for 2018. Not bad at all. My heart feels alright. I’m among a community of strangers actually. But then we’re kindred in one aspect: poetry! That matters I guess. We don’t actually feel connected in real life. But we’re somehow connected in thought, sharing, words. Ah words…I’ve always said that I have a bad memory. My son’s got a fantastic memory. An elephant memory? Like he could memorise stuff and amaze people at such games. Anyway my other son said that I’ve got a pretty good memory for words. That’s something isn’t it? Felt consoled. So you could write a reflection poem, this being the end of the year and all.