A bit of a poem for Sam (but not really)

It's actually for Nathan and Stacey - for our collaboration - but it's based off something Sam told me that Sharona had said in class, that the Italian word "stanza" means room.

If stanza is just another word for room,
I want to know what goes on behind
the closed doors. Does dust collect
on the words you never write?

Also, I got a letter today saying I'm accepted at West Virginia :)

The Light in Ordinary Things

Poetry Forum last night was good. Two glasses of red wine, read the Minnesota poem, and that little one about Ohio being shaped like a heart, and then read one of Julia Kasdorf’s poems from her book Eve’s Striptease (what a great title!). Stacey and Nathan and I agreed to collaborate on a poem. Still working out a theme and structure, or maybe we already have the structure? Should be fun.

I’ve realized a few things recently. Realized why I’m so low on motivation lately; it’s like I feel somehow that by not doing anything, I can make time stand still, or slow down. I am afraid to be involved in my own life because I am not ready to leave it, the life I know. It’s weird, and it makes no sense, but I’ve been indulging this laziness, this lethargy, and I need to stop. I need to accomplish things, and I need to be present in my life. It’s impossible to stop time; hello, it’s mid-March already, the sun is out, and this is the time of year I love and have been waiting for. The only thing I can do is to be aware of the moments, to keep them in my memory, and my consciousness. I’ve also realized just how much ego I have as a writer, and, conversely, how much insecurity. I am so *offended* that I was rejected by all these schools, my ego thinks I’m better than that, but then it makes me question my acceptance, gives me that imposter syndrome. Such an insane process really, and I will be glad when it’s over. Only three more responses to go, but I’m about 90% sure I’ll choose Penn State, even if I have other options.

So, here is the updated list…..

Penn State - ACCEPTED
Alabama - REJECTED
Wisconsin - REJECTED (got the letter recently, but already knew from the website)
Minnesota – WAITLISTED, and declined (I realized it just couldn’t trump Penn State, and left my waitlist spot to someone who might really choose MN in the end)
Michigan – REJECTED (got the letter last week, as mentioned)
Colorado State – REJECTED (got the letter yesterday, and this is one where my ego is really offended. It’s like “Dude, I got into Penn State, and Colorado is rejecting me? WTF?”)
West Virginia
Columbia College
Cleveland State/NEOMFA

I wrote a poem this afternoon about doing laundry. I read a call for submissions for the Fearless Books anthology called The Light in Ordinary Things today, and I’m doing laundry now, so yeah, that’s the inspiration. I’m not posting it here because it’s kind of about someone who I think might lurk here occasionally.

Go check it out

http://qarrtsiluni.com/2009/01/19/evolution-of-the-signature/

Our collaborative poem is up! I haven't listened to the audio because I always hate the way my voice sounds on recordings, but feel free. Just don't tell me how dumb I sound ;)

Many thanks to Dave for recording for us!

And an update....

I have been absolutely SWAMPED for the past month. Between working mad hours, all the holiday stuff, and getting four more grad school applications out, I have neglected my blog shamefully.

I made a small attempt to remedy that today but posting that little debris poem. Will post more soon.

Finished the collaborative poem with Sam tonight. At MoJoe. In front of the fireplace. Yay for fireplaces and girlfriends who write poems. We were discussing how we miss Larry's. Columbus is getting too f***ing clean these days; all the anarchy is becoming memory, all the holes in the wall are being patched, leaving a smooth white surface I just want to scribble on.....

Send good thoughts after my applications at Alabama, Penn State, West Virginia, and Colorado State, if you would.

Poem on :)

Collaboration is fun

But first, an update: I submitted the other two December apps online last night, will print off all my stuff today, and then pick up the last letter Monday. Thank you, thank you, thank you to the wonderful person who is saving my sanity!!!!! I will drop those three packets in the mail Monday, and then think about the next batch after the New Year.

And, here is the very first draft of a collaborative poem Stacey and I wrote over the past, oh, month, or so... We got sidetracked and distracted and busy a few times in the middle of the process, but we finally found the ending yesterday. Look for her to post it on the PoCo site, and on her lovely blog as well.


Velvet Elvis

Rest deep in the field of matte black
plush and dense as Mississippi night
no screams will jolt you from this
reverie, no girls will faint at your feet
except me, clawing to get behind
the wide gilt frame centered on the wall
to run my fingers thru your hair, to recline
against your muscular thighs, to climb
up your twisting legs, to scale your hips.

Rest here and wait for me. I will come
to grasp your shoulders, to cling to your name,
taste the sugar and the smoke of your mouth
but when I try to press my lips against yours,
I feel nothing but dust clinging to the painted fibers
and the rough places where a painter's brush
paused, the paint pooling on your bottom lip.
You are all man, rough, hard, surrounded by a sea
soft and impenetrable, velvet waves fading
into a bright white glow at the edges of your face.
I brush one finger along the angle of your jaw,
slowly slide it down the short softness that lies
flat, the revealed triangle of your chest. I step back
I see the gold surrounding him, the end of a plush life framed
forever, a bright spot on the dark paneled wall.

An American Sentence (ETA: make that three)

If god was a cat, I would worship gladly by napping in the sun.

There’s so little sun in winter; streetlights through my window must suffice.

Inspiration for these two came from the poetry collaborative. It's posted there as well. Go leave your own, if the muse strikes.

And this one may be the first line of a collaborative poem Sam and I will write:

When I was young I used to sit and write my name over and over

Info about, and many many examples of, American Sentences can be found here.