I am thankful, my Creator, for the gift of grace and love, for the peace in my life, for those around me who nurture me with their loving friendships, for my parents who gave for me and helped me grow, for my loving husband who has sacrificed much and replenished himself in my love and joy, for my God-given daughter who is an angel on Earth, for my son who is an angel beyond us and for the moment of now and now and…
My poem “Mute” will be published in March of 2010 in ‘blue collection 1’ from Blue Fifth Review – as part 3 of ‘the body series.’
Thanks to Sam Rasnake for the opportunity and for selecting this work.
blue collection 1 – the body will feature:
Melissa Buckheit, Demotics
CE Chaffin, To My Left Pinkie
Robert Klein Engler, The Artist Held in Memory
Rupert Fike, I Care for the Body that Bore Me
Paul Hostovsky, Caesura
Rich Ives, Temporary Embodiment of a Passing Cloud
Marilyn Kallet, I Want You Here
Jeff Mann, Russian Samovar
Clare Martin, Mute
Amy Small-McKinney, Two Figures Sitting & Walking
Marge Piercy, Old traumas never die
Susan Terris, Beldame Rite for the Missing One
I am banning myself from submitting any poetry to lit journals until 2010. From now until the end of the year I will revise and refine work and read poetry. I have been careless in sending out work that was not ready or worthy. That is obvious to me. I’ve been sloppy. I’ve been hung up on status, without thinking of building a good reputation. I need to let myself mature and let my work mature. So that is what I plan to focus on…what I hope will happen.
I am locked into writing at night when the house is asleep. When I can work uninterrupted and reach the places I need to, in stillness and with concentrated effort. So I suffer some sleeplessness and my family suffers a little because I don’t function well before noon.
Overnight I managed to write three “wild” and yet clean poems—and by clean I mean sharply-polished. The titles are: OF A FEVERED CHILD, STRAWBERRIES IN WINTER and NUDE AT THE OPEN WINDOW. The third one’s title is a bit risqué but the poem is not. I am sorry to disappoint.
These poems hopefully take risks philosophically, linguistically, metaphorically— I considered them carefully and sent them to a fine (nameless) journal less than an hour ago…now it is a waiting game. If I get a positive response, I will certainly announce here.
(There are drawbacks to the speed at which one can transmit content through the Internet and I have rushed that process in the past—by sending words that were not ready, but tonight I weighed carefully my words and actions.)
I am taking healthier risks in my life—moving out of my comfort zone…more on those life changes later.