NaPoWriMo

Hello, imaginary readers of my poetry blog! You'll be pleased to know that I intend to write 30 poems in 30 days starting in April.

Because April is National Poetry Month and that's my favorite month of the year- when tree pollen isn't having their way with my sinuses. Learn more about awesome activities for National Poetry Month by visiting Poets.org's fabulous website. Fabulous activities they are hosting include (but are not limited to): poem in a pocket, Dear poet, and 30 more ways to celebrate.

If I remember, I'd like to try committing a new poem to memory. I'll be picking something from here. Perhaps...

Composed upon Westminster Bridge, September 3, 1802
William Wordsworth 

Earth has not anything to show more fair:
Dull would he be of soul who could pass by
A sight so touching in its majesty:
This City now doth, like a garment, wear
The beauty of the morning; silent, bare,
Ships, towers, domes, theatres, and temples lie
Open unto the fields, and to the sky;
All bright and glittering in the smokeless air.
Never did sun more beautifully steep
In his first splendour, valley, rock, or hill;
Ne’er saw I, never felt, a calm so deep!
The river glideth at his own sweet will:
Dear God! the very houses seem asleep;
And all that mighty heart is lying still!

I have listed my blog at NaPoWriMo and I'm using Camp NaNoWriMo to help keep me motivated and connected to my friends who are also participating in a 30 day writing challenge (Hi Sleazer and Michelle!)

Oh, maybe I'll make some youtube videos!

I don't know man, let's have fun with this!

a poem and thoughts on another National Poetry Month...

On the Gasconade in March

bring to me
these things
in beauty;

first season’s
rain-paced
current,

crooked bluffs
weeping in
the mist,

an egret
with coal-
tipped wings,

a puddle
of wood
ducklings,

cigar smoke
thick and
low hung,

a standing
salute
from cows,

a canoe
on the
river.


Musings on another National Poetry Month

So it comes, every year. Every year, I'm ecstatic and try to push out all the poems from my body. I have since come to the conclusion that this is too painful and the cost for the amount of wine required is astronomical. Instead of setting unrealistic creating goals, I'm going to reframe this cantankerous beast. What is it about? How does it impact me? Why do I want to take time to revere my favorite of favorites?

It's time to explore not produce; but producing is cool too. Basically, awesome. Ok. So whatever. Something zen, okay? Ok. Roll with it.

Maybe there is nothing profound to say.


General Musings about whatever the fuck

• In the past several months, a few friends and I have started work-shoping together. I think it's just what the doctor ordered. Anyways, more on this later.
• I've been thinking a lot about spoken word. I wrote like a 5 page essay about how much I hate spoken word but I think it's a little too harsh. There is a good chance I won't be sharing it because I think I tend to lean towards critical rather than recognizing the importance of emotional resonance. Listen, there is even some spoken work I like. Not much. It's rare. I did spoken word a few times! It was terrible. Instead of giving you all my long-winded, judgmental rants about the subject, let me leave it at this.
• Oh, I wrote 3/4ths of a villanelle and decided there is a better chance of the world ending due to excessive monkey farts than there is of me finishing it. Sorry, villanelle Masters. It ain't my thing. It's feels like stabbing myself in the eyes with number two pencils. Elizabeth Bishop, I bow to you (always).
• Spring is here, in Missouri. Oh pollen, oh the humanity!