The Raintown Review

Well, that was totally unexpected!! I received a copy of the latest issue of Raintown Review in the mail last night. Much to my surprise, I was in it!! I love when that happens. < grin > Totally unexpected, I might add. I was aware that the editor had taken three poems from me, but I was not aware that one of them was being used in this particular edition. In fact, I'm quite sure he told me it wasn't. My memory's often faulty, however, so I may have misunderstood.

Be that as it may, I have another poem in The Raintown Review. That makes me two for two with them, and that's a happy accomplishment for me.

What makes it particularly rewarding is that TRR is a damn fine journal. The poetry is all top rate and I'm proud to have been associated with it two editions in a row.

Don't tell anyone, but they still have another poem of mine and I'm hoping to make it a Three-peat next February.

Under Water

In Northern Virginia.....or why I now own a new car.

The New Blue Retro-Mobile

I'll show you why in a day or two....Meanwhile, meet the newest member of our "family."

Let Them Eat Cake...........

.....Let It Be Chocolate Cake.

It's "Poetry Thursday" - Again

Poetry Thursday

Seeking Definition

You tell me love is more
than moments spent
too artlessly entwined.
You tell me "Love is Fire."
I say that hell is hell
because it's kept
too goddamn hot.
You tell me hell
does not exist
and pull away in ire.

I tell you "Love is gentle
heat - The smallest embers
will survive." We agree to
disagree and love's left undefined.
These, I think
are moments.
You brush the hair
back from my eyes.

We settle back more cautiously
and watch the clock unwind.

On Finding Yourself

It's always interesting, and quite egotistical, to "google" yourself. Once I found out I was a porn star that way. (Well, not really "I" was....but someone who called herself "Heidy" was...and she also did me the courtesy of linking her site to mine....we don't look anything alike, tho, she's a brunette and I am a blonde. I'm pretty sure we're not even related.)

Late last night, along with the expected results, I also found I had been quoted on a web site called Quoteland.com - or more to the point - a poem of mine had been quoted there in The Flower Quote Game.

I don't know why I was so tickled, but I was. It's always good to find out people are not only reading your poems, but that they are remembering them. Especially people who aren't family or friends - and don't have to read or remember you.

Come to think of it, even my family doesn't read my poetry.

Huh.

That's weird. Or maybe not. They'd read it if they knew about. At least I think they would. Maybe. Most of the time I'm pretty glad they don't, though. It's embarassing more than it is anything else.

It's not "who I am." At least I don't think it is. Poetry's more like this secret vice than it is anything else. My dirty little secret.

One of em, anyhow.

Funny Test - Accurate Results

Thanks, Seth.

Find your own pose!

Colon Traits and Tendencies The Colon is the chosen pose of individuals who, on their own, seem awkward or remote. They may be the sort who responds to telephone messages with email, or spends their lunchtimes quietly pedometer-walking in lieu of socializing with coworkers. But when a Colonist finds its mate, together they acquire a grace and ease that surprises friends and family.

Comfort Zone The Colon is one of the Sea Sleeper poses. Other Sea poses you might try: The Ticket Puncher and Sixth Posture of the Perfumed Forest.

A Note About Coping Since Colonists rely so heavily on their partners to give them context and spark, the times when business or family obligations take one of them away from home can leave both sleepers demoralized. To temporarily fill the void, swap in a large, carnival-sized stuffed animal, making sure to keep candles, space heaters, or other combustibles well away from the bedside.

Desperation vs. Asymetric Warfare?

You decide. But don't trust what Rear Admiral Harry Harris tells you. It seems to me that he's a bit too slow on the uptake for me to take seriously. Apparently it hasn't yet occured to him that future suicidal inmates could conceivably commit suicide in the middle of the night as well as in broad daylight.

Some days U.S. policies absolutally disgust me...other days they just amaze me.

Three Guantanamo Suicides Under Investigation

"They hung themselves with fabricated nooses made out of clothes and bed sheets," Navy Rear Adm. Harry Harris told reporters in a conference call from the U.S. base in southeastern Cuba.

"They have no regard for human life," he said. "Neither ours nor their own. I believe this was not an act of desperation but an act of asymmetric warfare against us."

To help prevent more suicides, guards will now give bed sheets to detainees only when they go to bed and remove them after they wake up in the morning, Harris said.

Click Here for Complete Article

Good Things Come In Pairs of Two

My beloved Sea Lions are so "last week's news" -

They were good last week - but here's two good things for this week.

A friend of mine, Rose Kelleher, (who is a great formal poet in her own right) has put together a comprehensive listing of poetry venues which are "form friendly." While it's not too terribly difficult to find places to submit free verse it is much more agonizing and time-consuming to locate those few and far-between publications which appreciate the more formal varieties of poetry. Rose has somehow completed the herculean task of assembling many (if not most) of them in one place....and she's done so in her usual clear, concise and easily-understood manner. If you're a formalist, or if you've ever dreamed of becoming one, check it out - Venues for Formal Poetry

Secondly, I received an e-mail this week from a very poetry-passionate woman named Diana who is involved in something called Famous Poets and Poems.

Not only does she appear to be a very energetic and enthusiastic person, the site itself is also energetic and enthusiastic. Lots and lots of great poems and poets -and interestingly enough, many of them are also noteworthy and/or notorious "Formalists".

Let's hear it for rhyme and form!!! Two For One this week!! It almost makes up for having to work for a living and (once again) missing the formalist conference in West Chester, Pa.

Visit them both. It'll make for a Happy Saturday.

A Picture's Worth a Thousand Poems

Mo' Poetry Thursday - Already!!

Pegasus

When you were a bare-legged raggedy child
did you watch the sky for a white-winged horse?
Did you dance a delighted duet to wild
whispers until your father whistled - coarse

and tunelessly from the flower-less front yard -
and all the incantations went instantanously dead?
The fury so rapidly replaced the magic, and scarred,
unimaginably, your tangled twisted head.

When you were a child, did each tear turn cold before
it hit the ground and fed the worms? The earth
didn't care that it was conceived in heat - and what's more
the whistle warned you early on that birth

is, in itself, a kind of newly begun death. Never mind,
it didn't scare you nearly as much back then.
Do you still search the sky for horses of the unsafe kind?
If they flew there in the past, perhaps they'll fly again.

This time, silence the unoriginal fear.
The whispering of white wings are all you need to hear.

New Job - Day Three

Ugh...I forgot what it's like when your time belongs to someone else. I love the new job - I hate not having time for anything else besides sleeping and eating half-thawed TV dinners while half-asleep. This is the first time in my life that I've had a job AND a relationship. Hard work - hats off to those who've managed it for years and years. If you threw kids in, I'd never make it.

As for poetry -- What's poetry?

Wedding Report

What can I say? It was a beautiful wedding with a beautiful bride and a handsome groom and a wonderful time was had by all. The flights were nightmarish in the extreme....between my two sons, their mates and ourselves we took 9 flights (including connections) and only ONE was on time. Southwest Airlines is NOT the way to go!!!!! Besides their archaic and totally chaotic seating system, their flights just don't run on schedule.

Dan and I left DC on ATA at 130PM EST on Wednesday, 1/2 hour later than scheduled and arrived in Chicago at 2:40 CST. Our Southwest connecting flight was scheduled to leave at 5:30CST and we did not end up boarding until 9PM CST and then we sat on the runway until 11PM. We arrived in Portland at 1AM PST (4 hours later than our estimated time of arrival) and then had to wait over an hour for our rental car. We finally arrived in Corvallis and checked into our hotel at 430AM - which was 730AM "our time" - exactly 24 hours after we had gotten up the day before.

My two other sons and their mates were supposed to leave Chicago (on Southwest again) at 5:50PM CST on Thursday. Since they live fairly close to Midway Airport, they called ahead and were told the plane was running several hours late. They were advised to remain at home until 9PM and were told the plane would leave at 1030PM. When they arrived at the airport and checked in, they were THEN informed that the plane was "overbooked" and two of them could not take the prescheduled flight as planned. Apparently my oldest son went ballistic and insisted that they all be allowed to board as they were expected to be at a wedding rehearsal in just a few hours. One again, Southwest stuck by their "first come, first serve" rule and refused to issue them 2 of their 4 tickets. Finally, at the last possible moment, some very nice gentlemen who had heard of their plight turned their tickets in and wished them all a good wedding and they all boarded their plane - at 2AM. They arrived in Portland at 430AM PST - (630AM "their time") and proceeded to travel 2 more hours to our hotel. Only 8 1/2 hours late.

The bride's family came from Florida with very little difficulty - only virtually all of them (5 out of 7) had the stomach flu. Ick!! Putting things into perspective, I decided that I'd much prefer our late flights to their vomiting.

Friday was the rehearsal and the rehearsal dinner which went well. Two bridesmaids had not yet arrived from Florida and one of the groomsmen was MIA, but everyone handled it well and the dinner afterwards was wonderful. The poor bride, who had done everything, and I mean EVERYTHING herself (decorating, flowers, favors, invitations, place settings, booklets, table settings, etc etc) had a migrane and went home early, but the rest of us stayed and stayed and got acquainted and reacquainted with one another. After that, the "boys" went to shoot pool and drink beers and the rest of us went back to our hotel rooms to collapse.

The wedding on Saturday was perfect - absolutely perfect. I cried buckets, as a mother is supposed to do, and everyone else cried with me a time or two. The ceremony was short and quite moving - they were married by a friend of theirs who is the Youth Minister at their church. It took place in an amazing setting called "The Barn" in Independence, Oregon and it was just beautiful. The kids had done all the decorating themselves and it was all white canopy and thousands of little twinkling white lights overhead.

After dinner we danced and danced. (Well, not me, I don't dance - but my feet moved alot under the table) and everyone was simply beaming. Speeches were made, jokes were cracked and kisses were freely exchanged by everyone.

I'll have pictures this weekend (I think) if anyone is interested.

We spent 3 more days in Oregon - one on Corvallis and two in Portland, and I'll write more about that later....for now, we're all safely home and sound - tired but happy.

The trips home were as horrible as the trips there were. The kids were each 6 hours late and we were almost 8 hours late - but here we are and I miss everyone already.

I'd do it again in a heartbeat - only on a different airlines.

For Today's.....

Bhauta

There is no safe tomorrow, only fear
which follows night. Anticipation waits
behind the sun, beneath the moon. I hear

the voice of God each time the wind abates -
each time a shadow falls - each time the rain
revives a drowning ghost then dissipates

to bonelesness in soft tearstained refrain.
I've been insane. I've been the woman, frail
and wan, with parchment skin. I've been restrained.

I've traced my name in raindrops on the pale
soft flesh of strangers until God foretold
the danger and the downpour turned to hail.

I've been afraid. I've watched the storms unfold
around me while my lover's lies grew cold.
I talk to God. He leaves the truth untold.