Saturday, August 27, 2005

arrgh Summer!

So easy breezey - what's a poet to do? Oh I wander about, crit here crit there, read, pretend I'm actually doing something productive kaff kaff gag. I wanna write a poem dammit!

Well yah yah I know what I have to do. Sit down, type some words. Type type type. Doesn't matter what they are. Type type type. On my wall, a calendar full of black and white photos of trains - steam engines huffing under moons, past limned trees. In front of the calendar, a gold robot stuffed and oh so soft - he's waving to me. Three medals, two bronze, one gold. A dried rose from daughter number two's wedding. Three daughters caught mid-pose.

Three Candles, the poetry forum, has closed. Not sure why Steve chose this course as there were quite a few good poets posting and critting and some newcomers too. He cited lack of time in his email. Poetry Forums come and go, it seems. First Melic this summer and now 3 Candles.

Meanwhile, In The Writers Studio is developing at a rapid pace - lots of poets, great serious critiques. Those who might wonder where Mike Duron's APAD went, the poets are now posting on ITWS's 30Days/30Poems. I first met many of the poets that hang with ITWS in the Poetry Writers Workshop which is conducted via email. I think ITWS should be a member of the IPBC but they were told there wasn't room. With the loss of Melic, I think there might be. Certainly there would be a lot of great poems submitted from this site.

Have I mentioned Blueline? Submit your poem to Heavy Duty and you are guaranteed of at least 5 in-depth critiques produced in an anonymous process - when we crit, we don't know the name of the poet. We receive the poems via email, then when all crits are in, HA posts to the forum. The poems are then open to further critique. HA has a lot of great poets on board. It's is a unique approach. But then, there is no 'tradition' or 'rule' when it comes to the internet.

Cheers

2 Comments:

Blogger Arlene said...

Aaargh, summer indeed, Jude!! I've fallen back myself, but hope to be back in September at Blueline and ITWS.

That's sad about three candles. Haven't even dipped my foot in the water there. Steve Mueske did leave a note at his blog (http://accordingtoess.blogspot.com/) saying he'll be making it a private workshop--on invitation or serious application only.

8:46 AM  
Blogger wolf larsen said...

Red and Yellow
By Wolf Larsen
The world is rivers of cities
Your unhappiness became an ocean
I feel thunder, I eat rage, and you begin flirting with heart attacks you throw cities down your lungs
Think of all your beautiful sins, it makes cities grow in my belly, my thoughts give birth to the human race, a panicked saxophone is splashing cities all over the earth like a gigantic landscape filled with electric chairs
You stare at emptiness, you stare at emptiness, you stare at emptiness
A street through which paint flows like a door through your mind into limitless space
And music becomes centuries of poetry creating an opposite world
And the entire city becomes a jail
If you sing with perversities than cities will be created with words
I shatter god with my eyes
Copyright ã 2004 by Wolf Larsen. All Rights Reserved.


This is just one of many poems in the poetry book Eulogy for the Human Race. Check out other poems from Eulogy for the Human Race at http://www.secretwebsites.com/English_poetry_book.htm
You may now buy Eulogy for the Human Race at Amazon.com or other online book retailers.

Wolf Larsen is an adventurer, novelist, playwright, and poet. He has traveled through 45 countries in Latin America, Europe, the Middle East, and Asia. To pay for his travels Wolf worked as a seasonal laborer in Alaska. Wolf has lived in Chicago, Wisconsin, New York City, Ecuador, Honduras, Brazil, and Peru. Wolf has written four novels, six collections of poetry, a play, and a screenplay. His two autobiographical novels are Unalaska, Alaska and Travel Around the World? Why Not?!

I will soon be discontinuing my AOL account, so the best way to contact Wolf Larsen is: email@wolflarsen.org

5:48 PM  

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