A Polite Rejection

I submitted a few poems to Rattle, a online poetry magazine, with great excitement.  Rattle.com is an excellent forum and I really enjoy reading the works they deem worthy. You should definitely check out their magazine and hopefully one day you will see my work up there.

 

Dear RYAN,

Thank you for sending us “I’m not a Racist, One Eyed Wild Winking John, The Girl in the Bar with One Critique,” but unfortunately we’ve decided not to publish anything from this submission. We work hard to consider every poem fairly and carefully—both Megan and I read everything we receive without delegating that task to any interns or other readers, but we’re whittling 120,000 a year down to the 150 that we publish, so the odds are always long. That doesn’t mean we aren’t grateful that you shared your work with us, or that we don’t find value in it.

We’re happy to read submissions any time, year-round—regular submissions are always free, and we pay all contributors. So hopefully we’ll always be at the top of your list for places to send new poems.

Best Wishes,
Tim

Still Balancing

Here it is with a background story and a conclusion. Hope you like it.

 

Chores or Seeking Artistic insight in the midst of domestic bliss

Oh now, yes, ok, alright, the kids have gone to bed tonight.

Lots to do that’s for sure to get everything ready the night before.

Pack the lunches, wash the dishes, wipe the counter, feed the fishes.

Fold the laundry, iron my shirt, pick up the shoes, and sweep up the dirt.

Off to clean the clothes that are dirty, and then you know it’s 12:30.

Whoa now, wow, that went fast, it’s amazing how little time seems to last.

Pushing hard to finish my part for a precious ten minutes to work on my art.

Then I think about others who love to create and wonder how they had time to be so great?

Did Ernest Hemingway wait to write in order to do the dishes at night?

Did Jimmy Page stop his guitar shredding to concern himself with proper bedding?

Did Michael Jordan leave behind the team to empty out the washing machine?

Did Che Guevara blow off an insurgent because he had to run out for laundry detergent?

Did Mike Tyson quit his practice punches to make his kids school lunches?

Can someone tell me if these gentleman so majestic have paused their craft to be so domestic?

“I must pause at my canvas” says Clyford Stils “to pay a bevy of online bills.”

“I must stop the jam,” says Bob Weir, “to clean the toothpaste off the mirror.”

“I must lay down my trusty axe,” says Slash,” in order to take out tomorrow’s trash.”

“I must delay my treatise,” says Aristotle, “to warm up milk for the baby’s bottle.”

“I must pause la vida loca”, says Ricky Martin “to let the dog out cause he keeps fartin.”

You think about what it takes to achieve brilliance in what one creates.

I guess life will always get in the way which is why you must focus on your craft today.

For the single step in the longest journey is the hardest when you are trying to hurry.

Yet as I ponder the achievements of those listed, one can see they are all very gifted

And still it’s hard to understand that they were all just one man

To do chores, and tasks then write books and drink flasks

There had to be someone, a person, another…..You know I bet they all lived with their mother.

A Balance

I’m chipping away at this new poem about balance. It ruminates on the difficulties in getting to that place, either mentally or physically, where one can be creative.  There’s a lot to life that doesn’t always make sitting down to write so easy. Also, I’ve had a few of my friends read these poems and the common critique is that they need an intro, some backstory to set the scene.  That’s what I’m working on now with this one but here’s where I am at with it. I’ll post the finished version when its complete.

Did Ernest Hemingway wait to write in order to do the dishes at night?

Did Jimmy Page stop his shredding to concern himself with proper bedding?

Did Michael Jordan leave behind the team to empty out the washing machine?

Did Che Guevara blow off an insurgent because he had to run out for laundry detergent?

Did Mike Tyson quit his practice punches to make his kid’s hot school lunches?

Can someone tell me if these gentleman so majestic have paused their craft to be so domestic?

“I must pause at my canvas” says Clyford Stils “to pay a bevy of online bills.”

“I must stop the jam,” says Bob Weir, “to clean the toothpaste off the mirror.”

“I must lay down my guitar,” says Slash ,” in order to take out tomorrow’s trash.”

“I must delay my treatise,” says Aristotle, “to warm up milk for the baby’s bottle.”

“I must pause la vida loca”, says Ricky Martin “to let the dog out cause he keeps fartin.”

This is the meat of the poem but it needs a intro and an ending.  Until next week…..

Revising

The task of the first draft is fun as the new idea comes blasting out of your imagination.  Cruising through a page, maybe two, your resolve starts to waver.  But you keep on as the surge becomes a trickle.  Wow three pages in a night.  A couple more of these nights and you’ll have a book.  What an accomplishment but, not so fast, because it’s time to edit.  I have spent my moments revising instead of writing these past few days and it’s a challenge to fix your own work or even someone else’s work. Providing comments and alternatives is the easy part here.  It’s choosing which path to alter  that allow for a critical yet clear mind.   It takes some time to settle in to revising, more so than writing for me, but once you are in it, it is consuming.  Now back to the manuscript…..

An Expanding Vocabulary

My son attends preschool a couple days a week and is really growing as a boy  Sometimes I see him as a young man already at such a young age.  He is excited to share the things he learns and my wife and I are excited to hear about it.  This poem is inspired by his ever increasing vocabulary.  It baffles my mind that he knows so many words already.  Read on and see if you an guess the newest vocab word in his repertoire.  It makes me smile.

 

Frickety frickety fack fack, foockey froo

Foocku feekey focky frickles foony foo

Hey, son, what are you trying to say to me?

You know you are only three

No, no way no it, it just can’t be

Feeking freaking fickles foock

Foekin fecking feekles frack

Feek feek fo fo foekay frat

Fockity foockity feek feek fat

The lack of rules, man it seemed so cool

But now we’re the fools sending you to gangster preschool.

Fock fock fookey fook feeka feeeky funk

Freeky freaky foocky fock fock frunk

Montessori for everyone? Well maybe not for me

Based on your curriculum for vocabulary.

But maybe I’m wrong, there’s probably no way

Foocku, fockey freecka funky frunck fray

Oh Geez

Frickles frackles freckles Freeze!

Oh Gosh

Focku fockey fockay frosh!

Oh  man

Frunky fracka frockyu fran!

Oh boy

Foocka, Focka, Freeka Froy!

Son, please. at school today, I think you learned something new

Which is exactly what you are supposed to do.

However I think we should wait til your mom gets back

Fick, Fick Fickity, frick, frick frack

Foeking feeky focking foon

Fockity feekity foeko, foekay, foeno, foocky froon..

Well I hope your mom has better luck

Because it sounds to me like you are saying…….