Well, this is the regular day that I blog and I’m back to finish out this week of boot camp which, for me, meant I wrote something of substance every day and I blogged about various writing ideas. I hope you have enjoyed coming along for the ride. The conversations have been wonderful 
My final prompt idea and what I will be posting as my writing sample won’t really match up too well, but I hope you are ok with that. I still wanted to get the writing prompt idea in because I think it is a good one. It was inspired by watching a documentary on Netflix called A Cemetary Special which is a doc from PBS. Fascinating and it made me think back to some of the cemetaries I have been in and how they can really be a source of reflection and writing. I challenge you to either go to one, or think of one (you can also view some of them online now!) as a jumping off point. You might end up talking about your own memories, your experience being there, or what if you used the name of someone to create a character? You just never know!
And now for other things I’ve been consuming:
- I watched the movie Sylvia and I found it very moving. I don’t watch a lot of dramas, but a movie about Sylvia Plath? Yeah. I was destined to watch it someday.
- Really enjoyed lots of the writing in the Spring 2011 Issue of The Laurel Review including work by Sara Tracey whom I must get a book from, as well as the author of a book titled Ennui Prophet and a fellow blogger Stephanie Kartopolus – although I probably butchered her name!
- There is a new version of Taylor Mali’s poem What Teachers Make on YouTube. Love that poem! He has a new book coming out of the same title
- If you aren’t reading Hippocampus Magazine then I hope this beautiful essay about a woman watching her mother embrace/deal with Alzheimer’s will change your mind to read it quite regularly
- For some reason the idea of memory and loss has been around me a lot because another wonderful site The Rumpus also had a moving essay around those same issues
I actually have more than those because I was on Spring Break so I had a bit more time for TV, reading etc but I shall save up a few mentions for another blog post.
Now on to today’s poem:
Why I Wasn’t a Band Geek
Blonde – Pretty in that preppy crimped way – Thin – Three complexion triplets dominated the first three chairs – 1st – Long hair – 2nd – A bob with natural wave – 3rd – Wore a boyish cut with almost white highlights – Then the boys – In a weekly jostling order - Held seats 4, 5 and 6 – Which left Amy and I to occasionally swap seats for 7 and 8 – The reasoning behind the rankings was obvious – Yet – Of course – Only Amy and I quit – Tired of playing ahead in our books – Of learning to tongue the reed of the clarinet – We didn’t know – At 12 – Just how raunchy the rest of the band thought that expression was – But we knew enough to giggle when the director spoke of fingering an instrument – The director joked each year that he either bathed or washed his hair – As if these were actions completed at opposite ends of the hygiene spectrum – So which did we think he did this year? – I didn’t get the joke – Maybe it wasn’t just my brown hair – Rolled up discount jeans that made me not fit in – Maybe it was how poor of an audience I made for his band room routine.
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As always feel free to comment on my work in progress or anything I mention here and you can post your own work in comments. All work will be removed a week from today. Write On my friends. Write On . . .
Sylvia is sitting in our “Now Playing” stand, ready to go. We’ve seen it before… and loved it. We watch lots of dramas.
Most of the April Mule is up-loaded … only the hard part (the chapbooks etc.) left. Getting reading for Words Wake! http://wordsawake.events.wfu.edu/ March 23-25.
I think you have a good start on your band poem.
Here’s one I wrote yesterday, using comments left on Richard Krawiec’s FB page.
**
Knowing poetry is everywhere,
the poet eats her lunch,
colors within the lines
of a lunch-bag hamburger
using a pencil with soft lead
she carries as backup
to her favorite pen.
The white inside of the bag
waits for words, while the poet
sips soda, sits her cup
down. Sitting on a park bench
in North Carolina, she closes
her eyes and dreams herself
all the way to Naples.
A satisfied genre-jumper now,
she pens the draft of a fragment
of the universal poem,
incorporating several comments
from Richard’s Facebook thread.
Hi!
I like that the ‘Facebook comments’ are like a little surprise at the end, and that it follows ‘universal poem’. Very cool. I like poems that incorporate things of “today”, I don’t do that often enough.
That is a funny surprise at the end! I love the very detail images especially the substitute pen. I could see you writing about me! I’m not as sure about the terms genre-jumper and universal poem. I will ponder them
LOVE the cemetery prompt! It reminded me that my mom has all of these photos of headstones, (she is super in to genealogy) , and that I find it kind of funny because she is so clearly afraid of dying. There’s definitely a poem there!
I like your poem too, Jessie. I like the juxtaposition of the way you see the other band members and the way you see yourself. And the last line– almost like a justification for quitting.
Thanks for other info too — would definitely like to see Sylvia, and am going to check out the sites you mentioned.
If I can get a poem “finished” today (or started??) I will be back to post and see what you guys think.
Happy Friday!
You are so right that there is a poem in that first paragraph you wrote! I need to get the picture of the graves that were in front of this one trailer my mother rented. I know someone took a picture of them. I want to put them through some genealogical research.
I’m still pondering that last line of my own poem. I think that is me trying to figure out exactly what the poem is “about.”
I’ll keep checking back until next Friday for new material so definitely share one if you get a chance
Sigh. So hard to concentrate when my 24 yr old son just began blasting music off the Ipod via hubs five speaker stereo. I’ve lost thoughts on this post five times already LOL Sorry for TMI
I have often wondered what fuels the decisions for the rather large monuments in cemetery’s. Maybe I am too into death after Ane’s passing, but I have thought it would make a good documentary, cemeteries and other details…my secret desire to make a doc
Seems a trip to a local cemetery might be what my head needs- Quiet!
Got my first rejection of the year today! How many rejections do you guys get before you retire a poem or put it here? Here’s one…it’s about death in strip malls, etc due to economy and loss of desires to find good food from my past…
Route 1 North East Prairies
South of the border driven burrito royale
hunger a former life Madame heads north
toward smell of cigars whiskey and street memory
old stallions passing blind spots diggin’ their heels
into gliding cold steel ponies
strange pressure forcing polluted
air into lungs as ‘On The Bone’ flags fly
and animals jump toward inedible prey
crossing paths with hate filled arrows
rendering life on pause
collision course with ghost town
parking lots and a gun slinging economy
tin stars pinned on trigger happy prospectors
with shifty eyed road kill BBQ all well seasoned
on the smoker and into deep pot lunches
late night dinner specials- folded
over soft corn tortillas and guacamole
dreams of what was left at the Texas border.
Funny you mention the idea of making a documentary about a cemetery because I need to ask Ken about the one he was involved with as a special project in college. hmmmm
Ya know I don’t have a strict number of when I retire something from publication attempts. Usually after a poem comes back a few times and I’m bored with it that’s when I end up putting it aside.I figure if it no longer sings for me than how can I ask it to throw out an orchestra to an editor?
There are some terrific images in that piece, E! I particularly like the momentum in the last three stanzas. The first few seemed what I often call “over poetic” meaning I had a hard time getting to the meat of them because maybe they are trying too hard? I find myself doing that all the time as I try to make a piece more interesting.
Now what music an I go rock out too.. oh wait . . .the laundry
I like your poem. At first I was having trouble, but then I read it aloud, and it all came together.
My submission history is short, so I can’t offer much advice, but my friend has an online mag called Redheaded Stepchild (redheadmag.com) which considers ONLY rejected work….
Sorry, it’s redheadedmag.com
Yes Malaika’s lit mag
I was in it once!!
I have to read it out loud myself to keep it together so that’s probably a good editorial to myself.
Thats cool! I don’t know Malika but I know her friend Deb, one of the other editors. She’s actually my ex in-law, (our husbands are cousins — well my ex husband now) and luckily remains one of my best friends.
LOL I wrote it driving and saying the lines outline. I like the beginning- and realized I did this twice and found a mistake in the original…
South of the border driven burrito royale
hunger sends a former life Madame north
toward smell of cigars whiskey and street memory
of old stallions diggin’ their heels
Jessie, you read it on my site once and said it had great visuals and you liked ‘On The Bone’ flags
Maybe I will come back to it one day. I’m on the fence you two about submitting to a magazine that might reject a rejection LOL! 
Ah, I see the difference. I liked it the first time too.
I know, being rejected from a mag that only publishes rejections may be a little depressing. There are some witty comments throughout the site about that if I remember correctly.
But hey, I submitted artwork there once for their homepage and it was rejected, and then I sold it a couple of weeks later…..so ya never know.
Val is right about redhead mag. It is a great place to try even if you are rejected. I’ve been rejected there at least twice
So glad to be here! This has been such a good week, getting to be in boot camp together.
Jessie, I really liked your poem and how you ended it. It took me back to not fitting in, for never having the right clothes. The cemetery talk reminds me of when our dog ran away and ended up in a cemetery. Someone near there called and I went and picked her up. Not sure I can get a poem out of that or not! haha!
This was the one rejected? hhhmmm . . . I would give it some more tries! You have me laughing at not wanting to be rejected from a mag that takes rejections. That sounds like me!
Helen’s poem was wonderful. I liked the white inside the bag waits for words.
Elizabeth . . .I think I remember a version of this! I liked “diggin their heals into gliding cold steel ponies.”
Hoping val can bring something by yet! It’s been fun to read what she has to add!
I wanted to try a poem combining the couple of ideas I had, because they just didn’t seem strong enough on their own. But . .. I got nothin’. So here’s just a first draft from one of them. . . no title even yet. ( do I fail boot camp? haha!)
The sky is drunk with snow
as we turn into the parking lot
the pole lights accentuate
what we already know
white pours down on a young couple
their daughter between them
puffy beige coat making her look larger
than her little legs show
a red balloon floats off
the dad runs after it
leaping into the pelting dark
for that dangling ribbon
I crawl the car along
willing him to catch hold
for his daughter
for me
he comes back to them empty handed
but thanked with smiles
because he tried
at least he tried.
Thanks, I just posted one! I’ve had a great time here this week too! Glad to have found Jessie and you guys!
I like your poem, I think you could definitely, like Jessie says, tease more out of it– which is one of my main problems. But great start I think!
And yeah, the whole thing about being rejected by a site that publishes rejections *IS* funny!
I actually think this one is pretty close but I’d condense the last two stanzas perhaps into one because I don’t think you need to tell us so much. It is so more subtle to just feel that waiting in the car to see if he gets it and hearing te daughter say thank you anyway. So poignant!
I’m picturing that little pooch in the graveyard. I wonde what else he saw?
Thanks for ideas, Jessie and help and just being you!
That pooch was so wore out, I could hardly get her into the car. And then she was covered with ticks! I wrote a devotion about it once. 
And thanks to everyone for your help and comments. I appreciate the way we all work together!
Okay, I struggled yesterday with a poem, (the end still isn’t right) so I moved on to another one, and came up with this. It came from our discussion on Thursday when the topic of Boot Camp was symbols, and the Family Dollar showed up. It got me thinking of my childhood “Family Dollar” — The TG&Y. The poem took on a different attitude than I had expected, but that’s what poems sometimes do. I’d appreciate your comments and suggestions.
BARGAINS
Dad worked too many hours, and the
meds could only
take her so far, could only
quell the anxiety for so long.
She had been too young, had been
too unprepared,
too much of an only child. And now,
she had us, what Grandma called
Irish twins. Without malls, Mcdonalds
play areas, or Gymboree to
get us off her back, Mom would often
take us to the local bargain store:
TG&Y. We never knew exactly what
the letters stood for, but my brother
and I clearly understood the
black numbers on the three red
squares: 5¢ 10¢ 25¢ . We understood
larger sums went toward
important things, such as food and
something called a mortgage payment.
A week before Halloween, the three of
us stopped in, looking for costumes for
my brother and me. We got to choose
which cheap plastic mask and
polyester satin outfit we wanted, but
the selection, like many things, was
limited and average. Brown Monkey,
pink Princess, blue Policeman.
My bother settled on red Devil, and
I, green Witch. Later that night, after
spilled milk, and I hate carrots, and
Damnit Marilyn I work as hard
as I can, Mom cleared the table, washed
the dishes, slumped into
the sofa and stared at the color TV
which wasn’t turned on. The Vegas
wedding, the altered at the waist pink
tweed skirt-suit, the way her
parents had forced the issue, giving
new meaning to the words love,
respect, honor. The Barbies strewn
across the living room floor, with their
perfect bodies and hair. The Matchbox
cars in driveways and garages of
tiny artificial towns. What could she
do about it now? She had already had
a breakdown once, had already
complained to the shrink
enough times about her rambunctious
new life, her dozing husband in
the gold hand me down chair, her
children: the Devil and the Witch.
Wow val! This was really good!!!! I liked the ending . ..the whole thing!
Thank you!!!!!
After struggling yesterday with the other one, it felt good to write one I like better.
Yay! Thrilled to see you shared and that you shared one inspired by a boot camp post as well
on a theme side this is working so well. Worded nicely etc. on a format end I wiser about some of the linebreaks. I’d read it outloud a bit more. And if you really want to challenge yourself in revision try taking the I out of it for one version. Go with she took her kids or something like that because I think your voice sort of turns to that in the end and I think it could be powerful 
awesome!
Yes, I agree with you Jessie about the line breaks. I will work on it. Reading aloud *always* helps. And your idea about taking the “I ” out of it is brilliant! Now that you say that, I can totally see it working better that way.
I’m so glad I posted it here, everybody’s comments are SO helpful.
Thanks!!!!!!!!
Okay, you guys, not to be annoyingly OCD, but just to let you know : I reworked the line breaks and took the “I ” out. It works so much better this way. It’s amazing what a bit of revision can do! A good lesson for me too. Thanks again, Jessie!
Yay! SO glad you decided to join us
ME TOO!!!
Jessie,
I saw Sylvia just last year. I thought it was fascinating, although
I felt really drained by the end. It’s a very detailed saga.
Classic poet’s issues, though, mixed in there..
Thought the band poem had good sound and story.
Maybe add little phrases or bobbings, maybe, to sharpen it a bit.
A verbal “Mrs. Dash”.. (I love that stuff)
Helen, that’s some well-polished sounding..wow.
I wanted to nick “sitting” up top to crisp it up…
E— that’s quite a collection of images!
I got lost in a few spots. I usually say spike things
up a bit, but this one seems to want a little smooothing.
Debbie…good stuff in there. Might work to find the most
odd-man-out strophe and cut it. That might make a theme
grow. Don’t worry about the fate of it…you could grow another
poem from any of those!
val —– I kept thinking ‘this thing is going to get dull”,
but it just got more and more involved and the picture
got clearer and clearer. Awesome. It falls together
so well.
Alright……I gotta get a turnip out.
This was what I sent in to a North Andover “Citizen’s Poetry”
site: Several Grey Courts and myself are featured:
————
Duel / Duet
I turned off the power to
the cutter bar,
stopped the pum pum pum
of the tractor, stepped down,
sat against the rear wheel
with a Coke to wash the dust
from my throat.
There were two birds
at the top of craggy alders
in the field. They were perched
on the top twigs far from each other.
The songs took turns shimmering
over the hot August grass.
I decided to nap face up
in the sea of stems and give them
a little time to play things out.
Songs get complicated in a duel.
I decided I wasn’t coming back
with the brush-hog for the shrubs.
I’d cut down the hay, they’d sing,
they could work the bugs I shook up,
and some from the bailer tomorrow,
and try for their their second nest of the season.
No trouble to me.
That was fair enough.
What would I be worth
if I didn’t pay a fair price?
–Jim Knowles
To Gayle for N.Andover exhibit, 3/2012
Jim love love your piece and your thoughtful comments. My favorites are the Pom Pom and the phrasing around stems. Spot on!
You now have me wanting to work on the rythym in my poem. I’m gonna work on that
Yeah…go for it!
I really miss that tractor sound. Got to do some haying
and such when I was twelve. Beautiful back field.
Not a working farm, but we had fun haying for the
stables down the street and running a little apple biz
from the orchard.
Your poem is great. I like the sea of stems too, and the line ‘things get complicated in a duel’. Nice ending too.
Thanks for the nice comment on mine. It’s funny because I kept thinking “Is this too boring?” “Is this taking too long to get there?” Glad it held your interest to the end.
Jim, you always surprise me with the turnip’s you bring. I like how this is kind of a running thought process, as you decide what to do. I loved the songs shimmering over the August grass.
And thanks for your ideas to help me with my poem too! You bring meat . . .not just a turnip! 
Aaaww, thanks, Debbie. That helps to know.
I have my share of rejections, to be sure. Worth knowing
art is noticed. You’re no slouch either, friend.
Val, this is an unusual group here and now..
I think we are all ‘naturals’ at it, that is, we have a poetic product
before we even hit the page, think poetically or something.
When it comes to submissions, I think that means
you’re close, but getting into things is more picking the lock
on minds than climbing a mountain. So have fun, don’t question
your talent even after 100 rejections, and tweak your style
in nice little increments. I’ve seen people panic and get fancy
but hollow. Hanging here and with the Grey Courts keeps me
in touch with the real.
Anyway…that’s my guess at it all.
Keep doing it, sending it in….keep going.
“You gotta keep on playin’ no matter with who.”
–the character “Dell Paxton” in the movie “That Thing You Do”
I think the idea of thinking poetically is where some talent can come into play because we see the world (and want to see the world) through poems. I, however, do think you can train yourself to have that kind of insight as well
Jim,
Thanks so much for putting those great words of encouragement out there! I love it here, and love the great support and advice found here. It’s so much fun to see everyone’s work, and I feel lucky to have joined.
Your advice is spot on too I think, about picking the lock on minds vs climbing mountains and how things can get fancy but hollow. I was actually just thinking about something similar this morning, when I saw this quote from Douglas Adams: “I find that writing is a constant battle with exactly the same problems you’ve always had.” Of course, this could mean a few different things, but for some reason I began to think about my personal battles, and how writing about them in a more honest, straightforward, yet (hopefully!) poetic way, has really helped to push me along–I have piles of poetry from a few years ago, that are full of over the top imagery but really have no substance when you come right down to it.
I will definitely keep at– if there’s one thing that I can say I have, it’s perseverance! (Which should not be contrasted with my inability to finish anything — ha ha) Thanks for the boost!
I think for most of us, we don’t do it because we can, but because we can’t NOT. ( I probably stole that from somewhere )