We often think of New Year’s as our chance for new beginnings, but we have limitless possibilities. Is there a writing rut you’re in? I’ve been feeling uncreative and frustrated lately. I’ve sat at my laptop trying to compose but found no ideas and myself easily distracted by the TV, the Internet, and the solitaire games. To break my routine, last night I threw the big pillows on the floor took my pen and notebook and wrote. I wish I could say I wrote one of my best ever poems. I didn’t, but I had ideas and phrases, which I recorded carefully in my book. There is the making of future poems.

Think of a new behavior related to your writing. Do you normally write in the evenings, try to fill a post-it note size piece of paper in the morning. Break a routine! Let me know your results.

It is a friendly group as many of us have been together for years.

I often find inspiration as I listen to the others read. Sometimes a challenge will go out. One night a poet stated he was “shooting blanks”. It became a challenge to write a poem with that phrase in it.

Well I don’t perform well under pressure, many ideas circulated in my mind. It took me a few weeks to put it down. Mine was non-conforming; I only alluded to the phrase.

Here it is:

Feeling Lucky?
Making wishes on
Stars diving
Across the dark sky.

Saying prayers for
Crap’s dice rolling
Down the felt.

Offering promises
Latent swimmers passing
Through the pipe.

The idea of doing this Poetlog intrigued me. Some friends have started their own weblogs “blogs” from their own sites, and I keep a personal journal, but this would be something entirely different.

The site wanted samples to be submitted. I immediately thought of my Father’s Day’s recap I sent to friends. It was not an ordinary day. Which led me into how to prevent all the every days in between from being Ordinary.

I get up Monday through Friday and go to my office job: Business Systems Analyst. Each day is different, but not in a significantly interesting way. I wake, dress and drive in. Each evening is mostly unscheduled the only reoccurring breakup to distinguish the days is my writer’s group on every Tuesday.

How many of us were drawn to write about the tragic event? Whole books have been published from poems and essays written about that day and its aftermath. There were many themes to choose from:
· Human tragedy
· Heroes
· Hate
· Religion
· Politics
· Survival
· Suicide
· Security
· Stereotypes and prejudices

Take time today to celebrate your country and its people.

I imagine strangers coming into my home, emptying every closet and drawer and putting a price on each item, each memory and laying everything out on display. What conclusions would someone draw about me? What wouldn’t I want them to see? What doesn’t my place say about me that I would want known?
I think the picture one would gather about me would be only about half right. The movies I own may suggest my sense of humor, but you need to experience my wit; my home doesn’t show the time I spent volunteering or the money I’ve donated to various charities. It certainly doesn’t tell what kind of friend I am. (I think I’m honest and loyal). What about how I behave “on the job” or the books I’ve read, but are no longer on my shelves. I guess I have to revise my thinking about what someone’s home reveals about them or mine about me.

Maybe I’ll try to step up to Senryu’s 31 syllables from Haiku’s 17.

At the writer’s conference the teacher (after seeing 5 of my poems) told me to write a three-page poem. Not a comment on the quality of those poems. Well, I don’t think.
I actually have a three-page poem. It’s very raw, about a very emotional event. It’s been five years now and I’ve only just read it at my writers group. The event was my near death when my house was on fire and I passed out inside. When the fire persons carried me outside and laid me on the grass I wasn’t breathing. Prior to passing out I did fear that I wasn’t going to get in time.

Back to poetry, we get into patterns. I may never write a poem over 1 page again, unless I use huge margins! But it can be good to try new things. One challenge sent to me by a friend was a univolic, using only one vowel. That was a short poem!

The airlines are already wondering if people are going to fly on September 11th. It may be the safest day to fly since before 9/11. When an airplane crashes the airline retires the flight number. In the news article an airline official commented that he wished they could remove September 11 from the calendar.

Why not, add a day to February or call September 11th 10B or 10 ½? If tall buildings can skip the 13th floor, we should be able to skip a day in September. If we move the day to February it would still be in the school year. Why not accommodate to our fears? But I get to keep my black cat, you don’t get to infringe your fears on me.

Changing the calendar would spur the economy like Y2K did. All computer date calculations would have to be modified. All the IT professionals that have been laid off would be hired back as consultants making big bucks. They’d go out and spend, so other companies would need to hire more people to make the items and sell the services. It can get the economy off its rear-end.

I say we do it!! Are you with me?

Tonight the Writers Under the Arch (WUTA) met at my place instead of the bookstore. Occasionally the store has an author in on Tuesday nights and offers us the café area. We prefer not to compete with the cappuccino machine’s loud whooshing, so I offer my loft.

We celebrated tonight our unofficial leader Cindy’s seven years of keeping this group on track. Tom and myself presented a plaque, signed by all. Champagne and sparkling grape juice were poured after everyone read. A poem about the group written by Fletcher happened to coincide with tonight’s celebration. And Scott offered his humorous ‘Office of the Curator of Obscure Documents CODpiece’ on ’The WUTA poetic form’. Often there is serendipity in the pieces that are read in a given week. Theresa read a poem about Tom. Michael celebrated a poem being accepted for publication, and based on a tradition I believe was started by Chris, brought candy to share. (Last week I brought candy to celebrate being accepted to write this poetlog.) Tonight I shared Tuesday’s entry which was poignant for John, in IT and laid off from the company I work for because of the poor economy.

I’ve been in this group for about 6 of the seven years. I found this group at a time that I needed the lifeline they offered. It is okay to be unipolar, bipolar or medicated. One week I commented that I almost didn’t come because I didn’t feel well. The question I was asked, “Physically or emotionally?” Jane channels Edgar A. Poe and writes stories to kill people off that have offended her in real life. This is a group of friends, talented, diverse and committed to improving, and helping fellow writers. Many of us socialize together; tonight John invited us to a pool party on Saturday. The group is important to me personally, beyond what they provide in feedback on my work.
The late hour and alcohol have stunted my flow of words. Honorable mentions to Amy, Dan, Jeffrey, and Robin.

I’m not bored with it I am actually enjoying this. Some of the friends in the writers group did tell me they had stop by, NOT that they sent me any comments. I told the others that didn’t hear about the Poetlog last week. The only problem is it seems to keep me from writing poetry. I hope I work out my routine so that I have both. I do want to update my web site with some of my Haiku. I also want to change the name of one of the pages. I have ‘Mo Knows Po’try’, ‘As Seen By Reen’ and ‘Made by Maureen’ and then ‘Mo’s Home’. These are the names I’m known by. Now some friends have started calling me Maimmer, from the e-mail address. What sounds good with Maimmer? Sounds like one who maims. ‘Maimmer’s Claim to Fame’ Sounds too self-promoting. I like ‘Maimmer’s Game’.

So was today Non-Ordinary? Got up earlier than normal, went to work (usual), mostly normal, then home. Had a movie from Netflix waiting, so I watched The Brlycreem Boys. Based on actual events, during WWII Ireland wanted to remain neutral and they interned any German or Allied solider captured on Irish soil. In one camp they have both British and German soldiers. All I’m going to say is I enjoyed it, but then I like historical dramas about WWII, and it was set in Ireland, actually filmed on the Isle of Man. It had humorous moments as well. Not doing movie reviews here.

Guess the day was pretty Ordinary, but in a good way 🙂

Many years ago a Chicago Hope episode had a character die that left an ethical will for his daughter. I always liked the idea, and once started out doing one. I also started writing letters for friends and family members. It gets very emotional writing letters to these people. Then I get thinking I should be telling these people NOW how much they mean to me. Well, I never sent the letters. I’m not sure why, I think I was writing while depressed.
I was reminded of ethical wills recently when I saw something on the web, probably one of the super annoying pop-up windows. I went about searching for sites about ethical wills.

Why do I want to do one? When my nieces were young I wanted to give them words of wisdom besides any money I had then. Like preparing a regular will, it is facing the fact we are going to die. Most don’t seem to recognize this till at least 30. I had a friend who found a lump in his testicles right about the time he turned thirty. It was cancerous. I am only 6 months younger than him, I had never considered the Long-Term Disability (LTD) insurance offered through our jobs. It turns out at that age we are more apt to have a serious accident, or disability than to die. I then enrolled in the LTD plan and remain so.

At 41, I’ve seen my friend survive his cancer, had a grade school friend murdered, known of people through work that have “dropped dead” and had my own near-death experience.
Understanding that any day could be the last should get me going on this task. My wisdom may not make the legendendary status of “wear sunscreen”, or the other one I heard about “I hope you dance” and give me immortality, but I still want to do it.

You’re dying to know did I find the Hope You Dance speech. Well I found the lyrics to the Lee Ann Womak song. I thought it was a speech first, like maybe at a commencement.

The pool party got moved to my place so I have several of errands. I really miss being able to do flex time at work. I used to work 9 hours days and get a day off every other week. I used it to do most of my running around so that the weekends were mine. Since starting this project it hasn’t been possible. The Speech & Hearing Center is wondering about their mailing list and Access database. I used to go there on those days off.

So time to get off the internet and get going. Good excuse since I’m without any inspiration today.
Did spend some time thinking more about the ethical wills. One of the sites mentions including passing down stories to family members. We have our family tales, that come out at gatherings.

My biting my tongue in half, and subsequent stitches
My brother falling down the cold air return of the furnace as a baby.
Dad almost shooting my brother one night – thought he was a burglar.

I have my own stories too.
I was going on a vacation with a guy from my volleyball team. When I called to make the airline reservations they wanted his last name. I didn’t know it! Some first date. If it had worked out, it would have been a great story to tell the grandkids.

The surest way to get a response is to make a mistake. Thanks John for straightening me out on my Japanese poetry terms.

From John: “Senryu has the same number onji (sound symbols) as Haiku (5-7-5) except don’t deal with nature, instead poking fun at human behavior through satire….and in Japan, are anonymous. (most of my ‘haiku’ are actually closer to senryu).”

“Tanka have 31-syllbales, usually 5-7-5-7-7. Your “Super Haiku” may be closest to the “Choka” or Japanese Long Poem: 5-7-5-7-5-7-5-7-5……..7-7 (or there may be another Japanese form not mentioned in the glossary which is closer)”

John is a member of my writers group so he’s seen my Haiku. Example below.

Still Waters

Emotions run deep
Hidden under a thick skin
Cold to human touch.

Rumblings just below
Unseen, yet gaining strength
Held in tight restraints.

Damned up river
Holding back two years of pain
Ready to flood out.

Rain pelting, streaking
Windows mirror the teardrops
Racing down my face.

Some examples:
I was on the debate team in High School
I was in Girl Scouts for 3 years
My first job was selling plants at parties like Tupperware
I have an irrational fear of sparks
I was diagnosed as retarded at age 2.
If was fun to see how well everyone knew each other, or didn’t. Then when we knew who it was some times we were wrong then on which was the lie. It’s a interesting way to learn things about people. If this was a group that had done to high school together and been friends for 10-12 years it would be a lot harder to play.
The other game is from a drinking game some played in college. It’s called ‘I Never’. You take turns saying I never statements. For instance, “I’ve never been to Canada”. If anyone has been to Canada they have to drink. So you learn about other people. You can make an I never statement and then drink yourself. The level of openness is not totally up to you, if you play it truthfully. Hopefully you’re among friends, and not your co-workers.
I’m forging deeper friendships with people I known for years. Hopefully, some of them enjoy my company enough that they’ll call to go out to lunch, or see a play or movie some time. And yes, I can call them too. I’m sure some of us have something other writing in common.

Looking to learn from all human interactions.

Tonight was writers group. A new person was there so we all went around and introduced ourselves and told what we write. I’m Mo and I write poetry. Then Cindy added Super Haiku. I did have 2 poems, non-Haiku to read unfortunately my laptop decided to go into hibernation about 3 minutes before my turn. Save for next week. One is from my notebook at the writers workshop that I final put together. The other is a new one written at night in bed when I want to sleep, but my muse was to be heard.

What should the title reflect? Should it hint at what the poem is about, or give it away straight out. Should it confuse? I’ve seen that. Sometimes I’ve used a line in the poem as the title. I don’t recall ever reading anything about titles other than longer titles seem to catch editor’s eyes. Maybe I should avoid one-word titles. I have many of them.

I’d like to have a discussion with other poets to get their thoughts. Even non-poets can join in.

Things I take for granted:
My family’s love and support
My writer’s group is there every Tuesday
My paycheck, at least for now – personnel & culture changes make me not take long term employment for granted
The Internet and the USPS mail
In St. Louis, crazy weather, hot, humid, hazy – humizerable in the summer
My car starting every morning and getting me to work
A nice comfortable bed to sleep in at the night, air conditioning,
Hot water for the shower
Gas at the station when I go
Food on the grocery stores shelves

Dearest lady,

I most heartily accept your challenge! Dare I utter beneath my breath (for the disclosure of details might well paint shock upon the face of an unwary passer-by) that I indeed WELCOME the opportunity to assure you of your audience and exchange repartee?

I dub the Poetlog a diversion of delightfully spontaneous meanderings of a decidedly thought provoking nature. Far more than merely palatable they be. I find that I am particularly fascinated by the notion of experimentation and deviation from one’s usual poetic style, although I must admit to an innate fear of Haiku! Persons may justifiably accuse me of the application of overly verbose use of language in the construction of my creative processes…*sigh*…. but what am I to do?

I am none other than myself, and to that end I stay the true course as I see it. I am and shall evermore remain…

Yours,
Edgar A. Poe

Thank you Edgar. Maybe the rest are too shy to voice their views. I now know the universe isn’t as large as I once thought. I like that. That may work itself into a poem.

Last night I was reading some of Paul McCartney’s poetry from his book Blackbird Singing. Some are the song lyrics from the Beatles’ songs he wrote the rest is his poetry. Are song lyrics poetry? What is the different between poetry and song? I would love to have some of my words set to music. I guess because I love music so much and it seems such a powerful way to communicate/connect with people.

If Paul wasn’t famous would someone had publish this book of poetry? It’s a large book as far as poetry goes, over 170 pages, glossy, with 2 color ink on each page. Make your own opinion. Feel free to share it.
http://www.wwnorton.com/mccartney/poems.htm

The universe isn’t as large as I once thought
Got to go write poetry!

Running a little late with my entry. Unexpected plans popped up, then home too tired and with a headache. All together a good day. Accomplished personal items and had a social evening. Short time in between engagements to do a Haiku. Here’s the start of a second one. Please finish it. If desired, it cold appear in a future entry with full credits.

Today I watched Terms of Endearment. Don’t know how many times I’ve seen the movie. I always cry. I used to fight back tears when watching a movie, even if I was alone. Why, if I was alone? Practice? Unable to admit to myself how emotionally vulnerable I was. Isn’t that what crying reveals? I don’t try to hold back when alone anymore. It’s harder than just letting the tears flow. Writers should be in touch with emotions, must be to write and impact the readers. Are writers more emotional than others? Is it part of what makes them writers?

Any progress on the Haiku?
One alternative 2nd line. Complete the haiku with this line or do the 2nd and 3rd yourself.

I’ve been exploring this month my new form, haiku. I’ve wrote many in the last several weeks, sticking to the 5-7-5 model taught so many years ago. I’ve learned so much more since then. Haiku has become so popular that our local paper’s Arts and Entertainment section did a full page story on haiku and what else is labeled as haiku. They are currently seeking Haiku submissions about summer in St. Louis, keeping with the Japanese tradition of a reference to a season.

There’s no easy definition for haiku and I encourage anyone whom wants to take a stab at it do a little research about the elements that make it haiku and not what the Japanese called zappai. The proliferation of western “haiku” like spam haiku, sci-fi haiku and their ilk really are zappai and are not haiku, although they have brevity in common. Writing Zappai can be a good training. Haiku has formal or technical characteristics – the cutting word, season word, rules for the use of postpositional particles and specific verb endings.

Members of the writers group have told me I’ve inspired them to take a stab at haiku. That is rewarding, whether they just write a few zappai or continue on and begin writing haiku. The important issue is they tried something new. I applaud them.

I leave you today with a translation of Basho. If you don’t know who he is, go to the library or the Internet. I’m not going to do all your homework for you!

old pond…
a frog leaps in
water’s sound

Basho

Some friends are getting together to watch Big Brother tonight. I don’t go for those reality shows. I watched the survivor show only when it was in Australia, cause I had just been. Way I look at it, there’s enough human interaction all around us, and we just may not chose to relate with them. You get on the elevator, the clerk at the store, or the customer service representative on the phone.

If you don’t want to know their story, or how their day is going you can just write about it and make it up. Try on their life from a few minutes and look at life through their eyes. Did they have a fight with their spouse this morning? Were they up late the night before with a sick child? Maybe you’d see that a stranger making eye contact, smiling and saying “have a great day!” or “I like your blouse, tie, etc.” would brighten their day. It doesn’t hurt and you feel better too.

Boy, I never thought I’d write a rah-rah type entry. It just seems to come out when you start exploring. What am I discovering about myself??

What are you going to do — today, right this moment? What actions will you take to end your frustration, to achieve your dream, to take advantage of opportunity?

I’m looking into rock climbing to have fun and meet people while staying fit. I’ve started dieting, and exercising to lose weight. I’ve been submitting poems every month. That’s what I’m going to do about it.

What are you going to do about it?
You going to write that novel or talk about it? Are you going to submit those poems or just xitch about how hard it is to get published?

good luck!

Did my grocery shopping for the first time as a healthy eater. Apples, peaches, bananas, strawberries and watermelons. So far I’ve lost 5 pounds. It’s a start. I know the rest of the pounds won’t come off as easily.

I met a friend last night and we talked for hours sitting outside. In St. Louis, late July it usually is too humid even in the evenings to sit comfortably outside. We had a good time sharing background stories. We shared poems.

I did write something with the line “Squirrel full of chocolate”.

A squirrel full of chocolate
Is bound to be ill

I did my 20 minutes on the Eclipse this morning while reading poetry. Mystery Bruise by Terry Wolverton. She’s the lady that lead the writers workshop I attended in January. She’s planning another a workshop this coming January for poetry. I’m anxious to attend.

One of the poems is a sestina. The sestina is a French form, and it is divided into 6 sestets (six line stanzas) and 1 triplet called an envoi which is just a concluding stanza that is half the size of the rest. It is usually unrhymed and works by repeating the end words of each line. The envoi contains, in any order, all of the six end-words. The catch is that one has to be buried in each line and another must be at the end of the line. The pattern for repeating the words is like this: (stanza A) 123456, (stanza B) 615243. This 615243 pattern is how each of the “next” stanzas are made.

Robert Gambogi informed me that the souls of frustrated poets often come back in the form of large cockroaches (this dates back to even before Kafka). Rather than drowning them in poisons he suggested I trap them in a wide mouth a jar and take them to the window and release them with the promise that they will write no more bad haiku.

Besides that Robert and I discovered we have Todos Santos in common. Even in cyberspace it’s a small world.

Tomorrow I go hunting my roots in a small town in Illinois. My mother, her 2 sisters and me. An unusual trait of my maternal grandfather’s family is that they all seemed to use their middle name as their first. This can be confusing when trying to trace the family history back.

I had a wild day – wild isn’t the right word. Wacky, silly day with my aunts and mom. I don’t suppose I’ll ever tell them, but I enjoyed my day with them, trying to trace our family tree. We went to the tiny towns in Illinois, and to the graveyard where my Great-Great Grandfather is buried. He came over from Ireland.

Researching online this evening, I found a relative that lost is father, 2 days later his mother and three days later his wife. All died of pneumonia. Life was harder then, maybe simpler, but harder.