So, I got the most direct rejection of my material via email yesterday. The agent, no, no names here, wrote me back almost immediately saying: Thanks for the query, but I don't want to deal with such pain. I'm enraged that a person could be so short sighted and actually admit this. Yet, he is more courageous than most agents who just blandly say my material is not right for them or doesn't fit into their list. I am tempted to send Mr. Blatant Agent Glenn Close's article. I'm tempted to send it to all the agents who have rejected my work, but it's a waste of time. I need to keep moving on. I need to keep querying and taking the rejections no matter how they come. I just read a success story that it took an author three years to find her perfect agent. I'm not anywhere close to that. Another reason to keep querying on. And, speaking of moving on, I've started the November Poem a Day (PAD) challenge. I don't know if I'll be able to continue with busy day job is this month, … [Read more...]
Another sign from the light
I got word today that two of my poems were accepted for publication in Perigee: Publication for the Art's October 15 issue. I'll post the link as soon as they appear. Here's what Perigee said: "Your work was among the very best, and we are pleased to inform you that we would like to publish both "Demolition" and "Reaching for a Star" in our upcoming issue. You are to be commended on your craft and should be proud of your work¦.We are so pleased that you submitted to us, and we hope to see more of your work in the future. We also hope you will take pride in your achievement: these are the successes which make the creative act all the more rewarding. Thanks for making Perigee a part of it. Congratulations. WOW that was a real shot in the arm to get my creative juices flowing again. I've been very dormant lately, and with that and the signs I've been getting re resources for submitting my work, I feel like I have to get going with my writing and submissions. Another agent's name … [Read more...]
The end of the dreaded month
Many folks suggested we move out of our house after Paul died there, but it wouldn't have made a difference. He is everywhere. So, to end this dreaded month, here's the poem I wrote at Esalen last July. -- about seeing him everywhere. It's a topic I have come back to over and over. And, perhaps with a new month starting tomorrow, the topic will also be new. Today I Saw You on the Hill Just after my morning walk on the highway up to South Coast, just after my relaxing soak in the big corner bath, just as I start my trudge up the hill, towel in hand ready to dump in the box, I see you engrossed in a conversation. I know you instantly the buzz cut the long sideburns the slight build the intense blue eyes giving full attention to your friend as you talk. Today for some reason the clothes are wrong. Instead of your Doc Martins you wear bright striped sneakers Instead of the brown leather book bag slung across your body that I bought you for school you have … [Read more...]
More short poems
And, all for Paul. 140 Cell phones, iPods, TIVO, DVDs, Wii, arrived since he left. But, his beloved vinyl records still prevail. He knew what technology would survive. 140 I would love to show him my iPhone he'd figure it out immediately. He'd know the Apps to choose and within a minute or two he'd make it his own. 140 I was shocked to learn Joplin, Hendricks and Morrison all died at 28 in 1971 the year of Paul's birth. Paul was 3 months shy of 28 when he died. … [Read more...]
More 140 character poems – remembering Paul
The 10th anniversary of his death is soon. 140 Even after 10 years I know by the first note it is Paul's music. I try to listen, but, usually I press the forward button and shuffle through. 140 The sands of time don't heal. The memories, good and bad, don't leave don't lesson the pain I feel every day even after living with it 10 years. … [Read more...]
140 characters (or less)
I've been toying with writing 140 character poems -- the length of a Twitter -- just to keep up with poetry's latest trends. Here are my first attempts (with their character counts). 140 The B swaggers across the room, looking from side to side with a judging pursed-lip smile on her face. Doesn't she know that will cause wrinkles? 138 Wildfire smoke obscures the Santa Monica coast. It dissipates into Georgia O'Keefe clouds that hover over our quiet beach town to the South. 140 Shopping in Beverly Hills for finely tailored Italian clothes after two drought years, good for the economy or just a way to shore up my closet? 140 Swarthy vs blonde Artistic vs scientific Insensitive vs an abundance of tears One birthday is 2/3/1937 The other is 2/4/1937 I married them both. … [Read more...]
Ten years ago
I wrote this poem for Ben when he turned 25. Every mom should have a Ben for a son. I am so blessed. For Ben on Your 25th Birthday Only suckling or holding you against my belly and breasts would quiet you. Not even your thumbs (you did not care which) eased your cries in those first few months. When finally the crying stopped you emerged determined to take on the world. That Benjamin, we called you. Look, I can ride a 2-wheeler and I'm only 3, you shouted with pale hair like fine corn silk flying and huge hazel eyes seeing nothing but the road. You lived your young life in competition reading the most books, writing the most journal pages, earning the most As, running the fastest 10K, collecting the most Garbage Pail Kids and hitting the best backhand down the line. You loved the pressure It made you nervous (I said excited) It was your fuel You had to be the best. Your tennis consumed you and me We drove miles and miles You in your … [Read more...]
Preparing for my poetry writing retreat
I just had a pedicure in preparation for dipping into those wonderful sulfur hot springs at Esalen in Big Sur next week. How could I go in without perfect toes? Actually the toes will have nothing to do with the poems I write, but it's best to be prepared for anything. Here's a piece I wrote many years ago about getting a manicure. It was my first attempt in writing something surreal. Perhaps it was my last as well. Manicure I watched her as she carefully set the implements on the table. The files, in graduating sizes, the picks, the chisels, the sanding paper, the paint brushes and cans of paint all in perfect sanitized rows in front of her. She asked for my index finger. I unscrewed it and gave it to her and she began her work. As she bent over my finger I could see that her head came to a bald point on the top that she covered with a sprig of holly berries, twisted around and around the point like a Christmas tree. The rest of her hair lay in long wisps to the floor … [Read more...]
Wedding poem
Our nephew married a beautiful young lady last Saturday afternoon - in the garden of the Denver City Park. They looked beautiful and so happy under a cloudy sky that didn't really open up until everyone was inside. They asked me to write a poem to be read during the ceremony by Jeremy's sisters. Though they weren't sure they could read it without crying because of the references to their dad, my brother, who died last June 23, they pulled it off without a hitch. I took the content of the poem from Jeremy and Kelly's love story that was posted on their engagement/wedding website. A Romance with Three Signs Kelly and Jeremy are a vision in white, khaki and teal in this garden overflowing with flowers and green lawn. They are surrounded by family and friends and little children wearing rainbow-colored ties and sashes. But their journey was a little less than the idyllic scene you see here today. The handsome bald guy with the great smile, and the fun-loving … [Read more...]
What keeps us going
I haven't written since Ben and Marissa became officially engaged last Sunday. This is indeed an exciting time and finally there's a chance that Bob and I will someday be grandparents. Of course that's not a given. They don't plan to be married until sometime next year or even after, and she's much more interested in being successful in her career than having babies. For some unknown reason, her clock doesn't seem to be ticking. But still there is a chance. And if they want to be married and not have children, that's okay too. What's so is that I'm very happy for them. They seem to love each other very much. And like Ben and I said the other day during one of our all too infrequent alone times together, there's no point in going on like they are without being married. Of course, there's another way of looking at that. One of the trainers at my gym has been living with a man for over 35 years and they've never married. She jokes about it and forgetting to have children while she's … [Read more...]
People watching
Traveling provides a wonderful opportunity for people watching and wondering what their lives are like. I just got home from a weeklong business trip, and I must say I'm glad to be home. In fact, home never looked so good. I usually find an opportunity to write poems when I'm traveling. (Though not this time.) Here's one I wrote during one of my last vacation trips while sitting in a bar in Bilbau, Spain. I did a lot of wondering about the man sitting in the corner. I could barely take my eyes off of him. The Man in the Bar He sits at the corner table He doesn't drink He looks straight ahead Or at his lap as he smokes His hand goes To his mouth Away from his mouth Tick-tock To his mouth Away from his mouth Tick-tock A puff and then away Then back Tick-tock A puff and then away Then back. Tick-tock He gets up, pulls his shoulder bag Across his body He looks down, mutters to himself His eyes rimmed with dark circles Looks down, His hand clutches … [Read more...]
Saturday
The birds are out by my fountain in force this morning. It's lovely to see them hopping in and out of the pond or walking on the large leaves beside the pond. It's not sunny yet, but it's going to be a warm day. This was an uneventful week workwise, except I had lunch with someone I hadn't seen since 1971. Actually he was someone I dated a few times before Bob and I got serious about getting married. We only spent an hour together yet it was enough time to get down and dirty about some of the events in our lives. And, it was enough time to know that I probably don't want to go there again. He picked me up outside my office and we drove to Beaches downtown Manhattan Beach. During the drive he told me he has had both hips replaced so he has trouble with balance and walking especially upstairs. Beaches is an upstairs restaurant that he picked! And, besides his hips, he is hard of hearing, has arthritis in his fingers, has lupus that affects his skin he showed me some of his skin … [Read more...]
Mother’s Day
Mother's Day is always a bittersweet day for me. I love celebrating with Ben - he'll be here in about an hour and he's going to hit some tennis balls with me - and I miss Paul so much more on this day. I don't miss Mother's Day with my mom -- it was always difficult and not enough with her. I wrote ths poem the first Mother's Day after she died. Mother's Day This Mother's Day I don't have to give my mother the perfect not too flowery or gushy card. For no matter what it would say she doubted my love unless I wrote, Dearest Mom across the top. This Mother's Day I don't have to comb the stores for the perfect gift hand lotion, a gold charm, a silk scarf, a sweater. For whatever I bought, she always said she didn't need it and could I change it for something else. When she died so many of those gifts came back to me. And I cherish them because they were hers. … [Read more...]
April poem no. 30
Today's April PAD challenge prompt is to write a farewell poem -- any kind of farewell. Well I feel like saying farewell to poetry month, to the PAD challenge through Facebook, and to my own challenge to post a poem everyday in April here. It's time for it to be over and say farewell. It's time for some other kind of posts. We'll see what comes up next month. May is my birthday and anniversary month so it could be interesting. The Long Farewell Let's have a long farewell like young lovers used to do at the train station. She, in a flowing white dress with gloves, shoes, and hat to match, he, in his new gray suit, shiny wingtips, and perfect bow tie, bends her backward in an embrace that makes people gape as they go by. When they finally come up for air he takes her face in his hands kisses both her cheeks and gives her another big hug. She can't help responding. She entwines her arms around his neck and snuggles her face into his chest. But, she must leave … [Read more...]
Another poem for day 29
A poem from the 1999 volume Black Wings & Blind Angels, by Sapphire, who is also a novelist. (Her novel Push has recently been made as a movie entitled "Precious," a winner at Sundance which will be released in November.) Some Different Kinda Books I She asks why we always read books about black people. (I spare her the news she is black.) She wants something different. Her own book is written in pencil. She painstakingly goes back & corrects the misspelled words. We write each day. Each day the words look like a retarded hand from Mars wrote them. Each day she asks me how do you spell: didn't, tomorrow, done husband, son, learning, went, gone . . . I can't think of all the words she can't spell. It's easier to think of what she can spell: MY NAME IS CARMEN LOPEZ. I am sorry I was out teacher. My husband was sick. You know I never miss school. In that other20program I wasn't learning nothing. Here, I'm learning so I come. What's wrong with my … [Read more...]
April poem no. 29
Only one more day to go, and April poetry month will be over. I hope I haven't burned you out on my poems. Today's April PAD challenge prompt is to title the poem "Never (blank)" and then fill in the blank with a word or phrase. Then, write a poem based off the title. After yesterday's sestina I decided to do a very simple list poem today. Note that all the items on the list have to do with being up high or going fast. The title says it all. Never Have, Never Will Sky dive Bungee jump Hang glide Parachute jump Mountain climb Ride in a hot air balloon Base jump Cliff jump Free run Motor cross Ice climb Skate board Race a car Jet ski Rock climb Try to teach a pig to sing I know the last line has nothing to do with fastness or highness. I just couldn't resist a little change of tone. After all, I'm a poet. I have a license. … [Read more...]
April poem no. 28
Today's April PAD challenge prompt is to write a sestina (or else write a poem about a sestina). Since I've never written a sestina before I had to look it up. Here's a quick and dirty definition for those of you as dumb as I. "You pick 6 words, rotate them as the end words in 6 stanzas and then include 2 per of the words per line in your final stanza. Sestina: 6x6=39+3=39" Because, as my husband says, I'm enumerate, I don't go for anything mathematical -- even poetry -- and I don't write poems in any other form than free verse. But, today I decided to give the sestina a try. Here's my lame first and probably last attempt. My 6 end words are: poet, verse, rhyme, form, ghazal, write Sestina Against Sestinas The sestina is not for this poet I would rather write without a form. I like the spirit of free verse and not bother finding words that rhyme. So you can keep your sestinas and ghazals. Just leave me be while I write. It's hard enough sitting down and … [Read more...]
April poem no. 27
We saw the opera "The Birds" yesterday afternoon, a long forgotten masterpiece by one of the lost generation of composers affected by the Holocaust, Walter Braunfels. Part of LA Opera's Recovered Voices series, it is a lush, late Romantic work reminiscent of Strauss and Wagner, with a little Mendelssohn thrown in. Walter Braunfels freely adapted the ancient Greek comic-dramatist Aristophanes's play The Birds to compose what he described as an "airy play of imagination...everything here is a game, a metaphor." It is a beautiful production. Today's April PAD prompt is to write a poem about longing. So, I took the longing portrayed in the opera between a bird, the nightingale, and a man to create my poem. The Birds (With apologies to Walter Braunfels) The nightingale, bedecked in blue chiffon and silver beads, her winged-hand pressed to her heart cooed in high soprano notes as she gazed at the man sleeping on a nearby cloud. Her voice stirred him and they met keeping … [Read more...]
April poem no. 26
We just returned from a weekend away. The desert was beautiful, the weather was perfect -- not too hot and not too cool -- the flowers were in full bloom, seeing old friends was a real treat, yet as always, we're glad to be home. I wrote this next poem after a 3-week trip to France in 2001. And, then too we were glad to go home -- in fact, we arranged to go home a day early. The End of the Trip We're both tired We're both cranky We're both snappish Too much driving Too much packing Too much unpacking Too much money spent on food and drinks that we could easily do without. Besides All of Paris will be closed On Tuesday our last day. No Musee D/Orsay No Giverney No Versailles No shopping So, forget about them. Let them rest in peace They'll have to do without us We're leaving early We've already arranged it And, I can't wait. … [Read more...]
