The Pen Master ©

Unusual Post for this Blog, but it is Honest!

2007-07-27T10:43:00.000-05:00

As we speak, well, really as of yesterday, the Official start of Comic Con International 2007 started; which means that the film school started also. But we must confess and be honest about some things. First of which, I would have loved to have gone to the four day film school. BUT that wasn’t my whole motivation. In truth, I was selfish and wanted to go to the con because the con is just exceptionally cool. I really love to be at the comic con. My sin—I asked God to open up avenues in which I could go to the con. Being one to work and let God bring the victory, I sent out a massive email to all of our old friends and family announcing the publishing victory of my Book, in hopes that I could sell enough to make the trip. Not just for me, but for my whole family. I did the calculations. Now, I’m not completely corrupt. I really did want my family to have a vacation, and I really did want to go to that four day film school, but with out a doubt, my motives had a reasonable percentage of selfishness. It says in the Book of James that we ask and don’t get because we want to be selfish with what we pray for. I have tremendous faith that if I pray and ask, do the work, then God will bring the victory. This formula is one that I derived from the scripture. However, one must take all the scripture in consideration. God was faithful to me and my prayers according to his word. He glorified himself in my presence and I am in awe! Would I have liked to go to Comic Con? Oh yes, and wanted it badly, but I went to it the wrong way. I wasn’t honest with myself and with God. My heart was revealed, and God faithfully (according to His word) answered my prayer, thus my love for God! You see, if I didn’t know the word, I wouldn’t be resolved. I would be angry and blame God for not making it happen. But we live the fruit of our labor. There were promises of books being bought, and so forth, that never came through, and I see how God has worked on my heart through that. I am undeniably selfish, and for some reason, keep falling into this trap of thinking that I am the center of the Universe (egocentric). The brothers and sisters who told of buying my book has life issues also, and I forget this. I work hard at not being so egocentric, and it is tough. For instance, this whole post so far is all about me…huh…

Say anyway, if you get Satellite 191 (G4) then you can watch live coverage of the con. Otherwise, go to the site www.comic-con.org and keep track of what is going on. It is intense as to how much stuff is going on there. The programming, panels, and special events are all consuming, but there is also an art show followed by a Sunday auction, and the floor. So many con exclusive action figures, comics, posters, toys, DVDs, and countless other freebies and cheap stuff give away with buttons, magnets, mini-mags, sample comics, game collectors cards, catalogs, and anything else that can be given away to try to sell their product. I said earlier in a previous post that you can literally get 10 to 20 lbs. of this stuff. That is four or five grocery bags full of free stuff. It is fantastic. And, then, if you bring a couple of hundred dollars spending money, you can get, again, countless self published graphic novels and first run self published comics. That is the real selling point for me. I love it that these guys and gals (that’s right, women too. There are few things cooler than a woman who is into comics. THE thing is Christian women of course are much cooler, but comic book chic’s are way cool too) are out there getting it done; writing, drawing, copying and coloring their own mags and selling them at the cons. They are gettin’ ‘er done, through pure passion! Fantastic! Okay, then, Marvel, DC, Image, Dark Horse, and all the rest have these huge set ups that can be seen way across the massive convention floor. I mean these display’s are so very cool, it just gives you a sense of awe. I mean, I’ve been to Vegas, and this way is cooler, subjectively speaking of course. I think comics and movies are way cooler. Oh yes, the independent film competition is also there. There is also Artist Alley, comic stores come and bring massive amounts of back issues, and if you need a certain issue of your collection, then are are for sure to find it there. These venders that set up also have all the rare cool toys they sold as we were kids, still in packaging and so forth. Awesome! I’d like to get an original Shogun Warrior from the late Seventies, and I usually end up browsing for one every time I’m at a con.

Well, so I didn’t make it; sadden somewhat, but spiritually refreshed ( I know that sounds weird, but it is true). If my friends that said they would buy 20 copies of my book, through me instead of through the internet (better deal for all of us, and totally legal and ethical. Plus, I can sign each one of them and thus making them more personally. But I don’t have to sign them, only upon request), then I can make the Columbus Writers conference coming in August, which by the way has classes in poetry, and script writing for screen and television, and the classes don’t run against each other, and I could go to them all that I want to go to. It would be awesome. Honestly, I don’t know how Hollywood would take one of my scripts, but I think that I need to be tried. We gotta get some righteousness in what is being put out in television, and I got some real beautiful concepts and ideas. Plus, I have so much to say through my poetry. I want to hone my skills and be incredibly effective. What is weird—I have searched my heart and realize that , even facing total rejection, total popularity, or even right in between, I still want to do this for God, Literally. I spend much prayer time wrestling with my selfish motives, but when it comes down to it, I just want to please God and make Him proud of me. He has done more for me than anyone couldn’t possibly compete with. Most of all, my creation and conversion, but also saving my life and giving me a second chance in this life; a second chance that many people just don’t get. I get a recharge, and reboot as it were, and I am not going to waist anymore time seeking out my “self” of wants and materialism, and I say this completely unapologetically. I would like to now show several poems The first one is what I just got done talking about. The second one is a prayer. I usually don’t share my most intimate prayers to God with anybody. Pray in private (in a closet as it were) and not on the street corners so as to get accolades. I share this prayer from inspiration for what I sense is the Holy Spirit. I share this prayer because I have great faith that the style in which I pray pleases God. Also, I make no apologies for my prayer. It may make you feel a little uncomfortable, but I ask that you keep to it. Here is my first poem:

Up the Hill

I’ve been to the

Hill, but not up

the Tree. I’ve

been to the

Mountain, and

there set free.

And now my prayer poem…

All Myself?

(A Prayer)

By command I say:

Father, hallowed

is your name, Your

Kingdom come, Your

will be done, on earth

as it is in heaven. Give us each day, our daily bread and forgive us

our sins, for we ourselves

forgive everyone who

is indebted to us,

and lead us not into

temptation. Thank you Father for your willingness to know me, me of all

people, not special in

anyway, at least not

anything that somebody

else isn’t doing.

You are so very perfect!

I am so very imperfect.

You are so very pure!

I am impure…

You are so incredibly Beautiful!

I am homely…

You are so extremely powerful!

I am weak…

You are so righteous!

I am unrighteous…

You are immeasurable!

I’m 6 foot 3 inches at 275lbs

You are eternal!

I have fifty, maybe sixty good years, then, hopefully a long stay with you…

You are the Creator!

..and gratefully made

me in your image!

You rule and lead!

I love to follow you!

I love you my God, my Creator, My Father, my

Master, my friend, my

hope, my joy, my inspiration.

I thank you, thank you for My family, my friends, my ability to learn, my

car/house/hot & cold running water/ electricity/food/Peace in this country, thank you for Church, thank you for love/ beauty/ romance, thank you for Art and music, and dance, and poetry, and really well written essay’s and novels.

Thank you for Sci-Fi movies, and the popcorn and sodas that go with them.

Thank you for my future, my past,

and today. Thank you for my child, and wife, and dog! Not necessarily in that order!

Mostly, thank you for you. I love you k Father. I love you with all my heart. I love you with every

fiber within my being. I love you first, and last. I love more

than anybody, or thing, or spirit,

or myself. To serve you is an honor, to obey you is privilege.

To call myself Christian is my

greatest dream come true. I give you my heart today, I give

you my will today, I give you my life today. I will walk and live according to your will and according to your slightest whim.

Please, bless the lives of all that I know. Please, enrich the

lives of all that I have ever met, and the people that they know.

Please answer the prayers of all those who pray for the sick, and for children, and for peace, and for hope, faith, and love.

Please let the world know that I am yours. Please let the world know that I walk with

you. Please let the world know

that you are real, and beautiful, and giving, kind, and merciful,

through my testimony and example.

I pledge my life to your cause and

to your leadership. I pledge my heart to be merciful as you

command. I pledge my will to represent you the best way

possible.

I rely on your mercies, your kindness, your graciousness, your gentleness, and I have great fear and respect

for your power, your justice, your wrath, your indignities, and your righteous Judgment, based on

your word, and your love through Christ.

Thank you for the blood of Christ, and

the body of Christ, and the suffering

of Christ. Someday, I hope that you honor me with more opportunities

to unite with Christ, as I have these

past several years in suffering. Also,

thank you for your healing, and giving

me a second chance to recreate my life and move forward from

my NDE (Near Death Experience), and the ability and mental/emotional/

spiritual/physical strength to reinvent myself as a person, as a father, as a husband, as a brother to fellow Christians and a brother to my brothers

, and as a son

Please my Father, I can only hope that someday I can

follow in my Master’s

foot steps and suffer the way he did at death. I know that

He died for me, so that I will not have to, but the privilege

would be my greatest honor. I love Christ and will do anything

for him. Please do not ask me to

sacrifice any other person in my life as I am scared of persecution in the form of their lives.

I obey and will consider it honor

when people will say all kinds of bad things against me for my

dedication to you. I obey and will strive to serve you even if my life is at stake.

I am grateful that I have Jesus’ example to resist sin even to the point of death. I only hope that I can make you proud.

I only hope that I please you with my life. I only hope that

you will welcome me with open arms on that great, and terrible day.

It is hope that on that day, as the world begins to crumble and collapse, and the flood of fire comes down, and when the angles are gathering up your people, and those that have slept for untold years of which to you belong, will rise and come to you in the air, and us to follow, then in honor kneel before you as all mankind will either by will or force, and to faithfully know that my name is in the book of life and that the ultimate reward of spending forever with you is fulfilled, I will rejoice in you, I will love in you, I will exist in you, I will be perfect in you, I will be righteous in you , I will be pure in you, I will be beautiful in you, and I will be Powerful, in you. I will walk in the new earth in you and love those around me in you and be incorruptible in you and sing to you, worship you, love you, praise you, bow down before you and kiss your feet and hug your ankles and cry the inexpressible bliss that can only come out through tears and weeping.

In faith I know that you will see me, in faith I know that you will welcome me. In faith I know that you will pull me up to you and hug me as the prodigal son. In faith I know that you will place me with all those that didn’t give in to the world and its temptations. In faith I know that you will allow me to dwell with those who have also given their soul to you in Yashua Christos. I know in faith that in all your power and glory, and greatness and magnificence you will make room for me and my family who love you with all our being!

In faith I run to you in open arms of love and passion. By faith I run to you away from what this world has to offer. By faith I will know that I am truly home and where I belong. By faith I will no longer be a foreigner in a foreign land. By faith I will stare and glare at your greatness until I am blind with your divinity. By faith I will bathe in the company of those that have sacrificed like I have and will make a place of great endless joy.

In hope all these things will come to us who have turned away from the evil one and run to you. In hope these things will come to those who detest this world and what it has to offer you.

My Father I have one question to ask, simply: Why me? What is in man, especially this man that you would acknowledge him.

“When I look at your heavens, the work of your fingers, the moon and the stars, which you have set in place, what is man that you are mindful of him, and the son of man that you care for him? Yet you have made him a little lower than the heavenly being and crowned him with glory and honor. You have given him dominion over the works of your hands; you have put all things under his feet…”

Such love and compassion from someone so great is beyond my understanding. It is beyond my ability to grasp and apply to mind.

“O Lord, my heart is not lifted up; my eyes are not raised too high, I do not occupy myself with things too great and too marvelous for me. But I have calmed and quieted my soul, like a weaned child with its mother, like a weaned child in my soul within me. O Israel, hope in the Lord from this time forth and forevermore.”

Only that I would have what David expresses to you in this psalm, my master, if only. It truth I have set my sights to fathom the heavens and the earth as to your dwelling and our future. In honesty it is that I confess my preponderance to the stars and scriptural “heaven” against what I can see and what I cannot see. It truth I confess that I seek understanding of galactic proportions, with a willingness to understand it all. This my Father bring in to me fear that this may be my downfall for it was understanding that brought the downfall of Eve, and thus myself in Adam: thus I beg that you hedge me in from seeking knowledge as my idol and my god as to not seeking you and your heart and Spirit. It is that I want to know what and who you are

in this physical world and if your heaven is our heaven and if your shoal is our shoal?

My never ending desire to seek you out and come to understanding beyond my ability is my fear that I may THINK myself out of your grace and follow the deceit of the evil one; for I know that he desperately hates me and wants to trick me into my own demise and thus taking from you the victory over this world though your Son whom I love beyond words.

So, my prayer is that you please lead me my Father in my desire to understand you and rely on your word and creation to know you: “For the wrath of God is revealed from heaven against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men, who by their unrighteousness suppress the truth. For what can be known about God is plain to them, because God has shown it to them. For his invisible attributes, namely , his eternal power and divine nature , have been clearly perceived, ever since the creation of the world, in the things that have been made. So they are without excuse.”

Forever do I want you, forever do I need you, forever do I love you, forever do I wish to please you, forever do I desire you, forever do I serve you, and forever do I rely on you, for the hope of salvation.

It is in true love, and my response to your gift through Christ in

which I pray, and it

is in Yashua Christos’ name that I come before you, and pray, and exist, and serve and

live my life.

Amen. P

So, that is my two poems that I wanted to share with you. With that prayer, I could have gone on, but I figured that at some point I needed to stop…

Two New Poems

2007-07-17T07:48:00.000-05:00

Here is a poem I wrote to my best friend last year. I never showed it to him, but I wanted to share it none the less. Then, after that is a poem that I had published in the local paper. I get published in the local paper almost every month, and its cool. Anyway, enjoy...

Oh my inconsolable!

Oh my inconsolable! What have
I done? Why so miserable; what

devastation? Rich regret and
sinking remorse…What small

sin has separated me from my
chief comrade? What transgression

and trespass has caused so great
a chasm between my fraternal
bosom kindred spirit?

‘twas the evil of mammon! The
corruption of greed! For ‘tis I,

a sycophant of the soul, an
ingratiating fool whose request

for opulent tidings quenched
my brother’s thirst for our
amity…

I am sickened and in shame, and
furthermore I mourn. What have

I done? What distasteful thing
have I done but for a quest for
something so small and temporary
a matter…

I have betrayed my best friend!

Please old chum, hear my penitent
cry! Cry mercy I beg that you would

offer an opportunity to trust me
again! I agonize in compunctious

angst, with glittering hope, that one
day, again we will ride in battle
together.

I plead for the sake of our years
of fellowship and our years

engaged against our mutual enemy,
whom, I know, I had favored that

holiday eve, like a whore at the
temple gate, confused by months

of narcissistic impurity of the spirit
when I bathed with Caesar.

My repute, my reproach, my remorse,
my curse…I plead my brother,

whatever pain that my betrayal did
bring, what caution it must have
instilled in your outlook at my

worth in your life? What trepidation
you must feel? It must hurt twice that

of the norm, that I, your close compadras
would betray you to such a degree.

Please silence your silence! I beg, please
not to let your hidden words berate

my ignoble soul. If only, may hope
give birth, if only, may hope

find a ledge on the cliff, in only,
hope would find the words in you!

Perchance…perhaps…peradventure?
Let my contrition be on my sleeve, nay

not a sleeve, but a sign, a billboard,
that I have changed, and by my yes

being yes and my no being no, I will
not ever repeat my crime. Never will

I allow money to come between us
again! Never I say, never!

AND

On an Ordinary Day

Full Greatness and Glory on this great Earth
to a single day of HIS humble birth

God and virgin did then combine
to make the Master of life that’s mine

Thunder and lightning across the ground
and justice and judgment to me astound

Depths of ocean inside the sea
to tips of clouds all silvery

And simple little birds up in the sky
or reading a poem by Robert Bly

Perhaps reading a bit of Paradise Lost
or not so white teeth perfectly flossed

Spotting a landscape by Claude Lorrain
or watching TV the candidates campaign

On PBS at six the BBC news
And remembering my daughters terrible two’s

I could go on, such things to say
of what I ponder on an ordinary day.

Saturday...

2007-06-30T07:40:00.000-05:00

Today is going to be quite a Saturday. I have been spending much time this week watching Free Speech TV, BBC, and other truthful, non commercial news sources that show the horrors of what is going on in IRAQ. Did you know that the Iraqi death toll is now over 700,000 people? That’s genocide. Well, there is much more to be said, but I’m saving all of that for my Next book, which has now become the complete focus for my summer projects. I know, I said I had all of those other projects to do, and I still do, but this has to come first. It has become quite obvious that the social justice that only Christianity can bring about must be exposed for the truth that it is. Jesus wasn’t just the savior of the world, but also a bringer of great social change. The early Christians had a phrase called PAX ROMANA (it wasn’t theirs exclusively). This literally means Roman Peace. There was a period in history, from about 27BC to 180AD in which there was minimal expansion of the Roman Empire, and relative peace in the area. The Christians believed that this was due to the Birth of Christ, and the prayers of the saints. That is roughly 200 years of peace. There is much more to be said in http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Pax_Romana about it, although, after reading it, I think that it is a little skewed. I’m sure that Caesar Augustus would say that he started a political trend that brought the peace. It is always a matter of perspective. I happen to believe in the whole Pax Romana thing myself. I think that the most powerful force on this earth is the will of Christ, who, in the Glory of God has the ultimate authority in all things. IF we, as Christians set ourselves against the dark forces of this world, we would surely make an impact. I do think that the fear of persecution is so strong that there are few who are willing to make radical changes. This must change. This must pass before us and never come back again. I think, speaking from my own corruptible heart that we are too much in love with this world. Our love for our lives, and the lives of those of us we love, is so strong, that we are not willing to sacrifice them for the sake of the Cross of Christ. We are not raising our children to understand that they may very well be in a world that will kill them for their faith. As this Autocracy that we live in continues to grow, and the police state that we live in now becomes more and more evident to the public, the stronger stance we as Christians will have to take against it. We cannot let our freedom of expression to preach God’s truth, to live God’s will, and to share God’s faith with others, to be taken away. I read an article, that there is a bill in congress that either is coming up, or currently being debated, that says preaching from the pulpit that homosexuality is sin, will be considered a hate crime, and thus against the law. Regardless of how you feel about homosexuality, preaching that sodomy is sin is a matter of faith. I understand the stand point. If Christians get to say that sodomy is sin, the KKK will be able to say the bible indorses slavery, because Paul taught how to be a better slave--But our ability to express our relgion, based on the bible, in this country should not be taken away, especially since our Christian solution to the issue is to pray and love all people, no matter what sin they have in their lives--Although this is a total leap for biblical purest, it still could be made a case. So, it seems, that someday, one of my books, or essays, or articles, may put me in jail. So be it; but am I raising the my daughter to understand these things? I hope so. She does understand what happened to other Christians in other parts of the world in other times throughout history. Right now I am not forcing it upon her that she will grow up and be killed for her faith, but this is not far from where we are at now. You say that isn’t the case? Well, not more than 60 years from now, several types of Christians were being stuffed in ovens, along with others of ancestral faiths for not denouncing their God. In fact, JW’s were the forerunners for persecution in Germany, and this country at the same time. JW’s were being lynched, castrated, and physically abused by people in this country, just for their faith and their lack of willingness to go to war. IN THIS COUNTRY! Don’t think that as fascism grows our rights as Christians will not disappear. Oh, don’t be deceived. There are Church of Christ preachers that think that George Bush is an honest man. It is this kind of simplistic, inexcusable naiveté that will bring about our heaviest persecution. The lack of spiritual discernment of some, will indeed bring about persecution for those who maintain their divine obligations. It is simply whether or not we conform. I ask myself, what have I already conformed to that I don’t have the right perspective about that is leading me down a wrong path. Several months ago, I had started asking my spirits Father to show me “Truth”, and not perception, in not so many words. I started asking that HE open my eyes to what is really going on this world, and what it is that I need to be praying for (paraphrasing, I do not remember the exact words it was that I prayed on that day I started). I have become overwhelmed by what I have been shown. It has all come so quick and straight up, that sometimes I need to dumb down and watch Disney channel with my daughter so as to give my mind and heart a break. I can’t imagine what is going to happen when all those orphans in Iraq, who had to watch their parent being blown to bits in front of their faces, are going to do when they grow up. They will be haters of this country. They will experience, and are now experiencing, vast amounts of PTSD, ADHD, Depression, and out right psychotic rage. I feel heart broken for all those people.

Don’t get me wrong, yes, I feel heart broken for all the children who have lost parents in this country too. In fact, I feel the same for all children around the world. I think that we forget to love the people of the world, especially when we are at “war” with them, regardless of the wars legality.

I digress: I am spending this day fully focused on my new book. I am just editing and revising J&M16. There is stuff in there that I want to get rid of, and there is stuff in there that needs some tweaking. Since I started asking God for truth, my focus has changed. I realize that Christians can make significant changes in this world. Not just in prayer, our most powerful weapon, but also in passive non-resistance to the workings of this world. Our only resistance to the evils of this world is merely to draw closer to Christ. For so many years, I have worked hard inside my heart and mind to say that there is a gap between the “world” and the “kingdom of God” (aka the church), but now I see that we as Christians must be in the world, but not of the world. This earth must be a foreign land to us. This world must be a place that we don’t fit in, in order to gain our greatest hope of joining God eternal. We must learn not to love this world. We must learn not to love this life more than we love Christ (John 17!)

2007-06-07T12:39:00.000-05:00

Well, after much thought and consideration, and an overwhelming sensation I had today, I have finally decided on a summer project; although I had to go through some different considerations:

1. First I wanted to work on developing, prewriting, and rough drafting some pilot’s for episodic television. This is still a strong consideration, considering that I can’t just focus on one project at a time.

2. Then, I wanted to work on my graphic novel called “The Image”. It is a totally cool concept, but, I haven’t been able to get past the concept part. My research and prewriting considerations have given me a hard time to deal with a plot. It is very character driven, but the plot should be strong. I WILL do some pre-writing on this, but I am having a dickens of a time figuring out what to do with this project.

3. BUT, Recently, I have felt moved to write a Graphic Novel and Movie Script adaptation to C.S. Lewis’ “The Great Divorce”. I think that this is a powerful book, that could work powerfully to soften hearts and open up hearts and hopefully lead hearts to a better and secure relationship with God; whether that includes conversion or just a push to a strong faith and a passionate relationship with the Father.

So, I decided to go with number three. This is what I “Feel” strongest about. That’s right, I am going on my emotions! There is nothing wrong with having a little passion in a subject matter.

Although I do have some really cool ideas for some episodic television, and have been studying on how to write a script, I would really like to do this adaptation. If enough people buy my book, and perhaps even send some donations, I would really like to go to the four day film school at the International Comic-con in San Diego July 25-29. Today was the last day to pre-register. Although I was expecting a miracle, I might just have to be patient and do it the Lords way. Regardless, I feel that this would not only benefit me as a creator, but also benefit my family, and my service to God, in creating Movies and Television with true spiritual undertones, or even blatant spiritual themes, all of which I want to use to glorify the Father through Yashua Christos, as well as open up minds and hearts so that the Spirit can work in powerful ways. God can use just about anything to bring people to him, and I believe that it is my responsibility to use my talents to serve HIM in this manner. However, if I don't raise enough money to bring my family (wife and child) then I won't go. My family is first over everything. Although my wife deperately needs a vacation where her and my daughter can just sit on a beach and chill. I can envision my daughter playing in the water while my wife is reading her book or doing her puzzle book, relaxing and having fun. Our lives have been deary for the past 7 years, and I am detirmind in the Lord to make things better...

Don’t get me wrong, I still believe in personal evangelism and sharing one’s faith with their neighbors and strangers! But I have great dreams as to influencing masses of people for Christos. Regardless of the misinterpretation of Matthew 28:18-20, in which people justify their own responsibility to work to convert the world, which is not the context of this scripture, there is still plenty of evidences, biblically speaking, that demand we talk to our family, friends, neighbors, and strangers about God in Yashua’s name (English it is Jesus, but this is so abused by Satan and the world, that I have resorted to using the Name of Christ in the original Aramaic/Greek/Hebrew (it’s one of those), so I say Christos, Yashua Christos. Even to the point that my prayers are answered specifically when I pray in that name. It is trippy. Good night I love GOD! Anyway…) So, we all must be prolifically, and abundantly, and evidently PROUD of our God and Father, in Jesus’ name. More so, I want this to affect an addiction to mine, through Yashua, work in writing, artistry, and multimedia productions.

Oh, and please read the previous post, I’d like to get some feedback!

Newest and brightest stuff!

2007-06-07T09:12:00.000-05:00

I am glad to announce this: http://www.lulu.com/content/288626 Go there and check it out, it is my new book! Plus, here is an essay that I received an A on in Writing class.

P. Allan Frederick
ENG 151
Prof. M. Wolfe
Obesity Final Draft
30 May 2007

It is commonly publicized in the media that the majority of Americans are overweight. Just in memory, I understand the number is around 60% and most of those are obese; an “epidemic” I’ve heard it described. There is an entire fitness industry, worth $1.6 billion annually (ask.com), focusing on loosing weight. Why are we so fat? I qualify as an obese person, therefore, I should have some license to discuss this matter. What should I do in consideration? Should I ask my government for help? Should I ask my employer or healthcare provider? Or should I just stop eating so much and join a gym. There is a stigma with being an overweight person, which can be painful. What should I do under such scrutiny? Should I ask a mental health professional for help? All good questions, some of which I intend to explore.
I want to start with personal responsibility. As I was discussing this topic with a friend, he unashamedly took responsibility for his own weight issues. At one time he was the model of perfection in physical fitness, now however, he is overweight. In essence he says HE is responsible for his condition. He says the reason anybody is overweight is because they put the food in their mouth, and hence they are overweight. This is hands down the truth, in probably the majority of the cases. I know I myself will eat the occasional sweet or burger. But I don’t think it is so simple. There are too many variables to consider. Yes, I am responsible for putting food in my mouth, but, who is responsible for what is available to me, and what the food is made of?
Here is what I mean. When I walk into a grocery store, I am exposed to a vast array of food. Usually, the first food I am exposed to is the produce section; if I follow the outer isle around the store, the theme of fresh foods continues. Produce usually goes to bakery or meat, then dairy, and so on. As a person who wants to loose weight, I know that most frozen food consist of preservatives that are not necessarily so healthy for you. To me and my family, this is understood common knowledge. To many people, this is not an issue, or even a care. Granted, I love fish sticks, frozen dinners and frozen veggies, but there is a reason why these items have a long shelf life, and it is not just because of the fact they are frozen, or so I understand it. My Mother-in-Law believes these “preservatives” are doing the same things to our bodies as they do to the food we consume. Well, this does make sense to me, but I have never read anything on the issue either way.
However, be it on a website, magazine, television program, or radio, I have become convinced that there are artificial additives to FRESH foods, which DO go into our bodies; those additives being growth hormones. It is a nasty little habit that has been approved by our government. The theory is sound. If you add growth hormones to your farmed meat animals, they will grow bigger, and produce better and bigger meat, poultry, and dairy. I have had beef NOT from the grocery store, and to me, it doesn’t taste as good as what I am used to. I have grown to love the meat I eat, the poultry, dairy, and produce that is in the grocery store; these are what I put into my mouth.
As I recall, our bodies absorb these growth hormones. We all accept that our produce and grains are exposed to insecticides, but it is not common knowledge that our produce and grains, which are fed to our livestock, are grown with those hormone additives. And, in as much as we get our nutrients from our food, so do we get these hormones. It is like injecting growth hormones into our bodies. I believe, from everything I have read, heard, and watched, it is a valid reason why we are gaining weight.
Another reason we are overweight is the socialization of fast food. I’m coming home at the end of the day, and I have a choice: bring home some burgers or cook and clean. Although cooking may have better health benefits, it is just not as convenient. We are bombarded with television commercials about fast food, and now we are to think since they serve salads, we can eat there and not feel guilty or in truth, gain weight. The real truth is they fill their salad dressings full of sugar. Even dressings that don’t have sugar in the food isle in the grocery store, has sugar in the dressings at the restaurant. My nine year old has to do her homework, I have to do my homework, both my wife and I struggle with physical illnesses that causes fatigue and chronic pain, she is tired from working all day, and we have to choose. The fast food alternative is seemingly a better choice. In the end it isn’t. The Mcleading fast food restaurant puts tons of salt and sugar in the food they serve, so our palates become conditioned to wanting more. Moreover, it is more expensive to eat fast food, a poor alternative to a healthy diet, and habit forming. If I can cook at home, I should. Even with the fresh isle pumped full of growth hormones, and so forth, it still would seem to be a better alternative. Or so I’m told.
In fact, I have been told many things over the years as to how to slim down and stay down. I have been told to eat brown rice with skinless chicken and steamed vegetables. I have been told not to eat rice because it is a carbohydrate that will turn to sugar in my body. Over the years of my life, there have been passing fads on loosing weight. First, thirty years ago, it was calories; so sugar free became the big trend in mass food marketing. Then, it was fat that was bad; don’t eat fat of any kind. Although I was eating no sugar, no fat foods, I was still overweight. Then, recently, it was carbohydrates that were bad. So all those healthy nonfat, low calorie items I was buying at the grocery store now needed to have no carbs. SO, now I need to eat foods that have no sugar, no carbs, no fat, and now nothing that has preservatives or growth hormones. What am I suppose to eat now, Air? Air doesn’t really solve the problem, and isn’t very filling.
The problem with trying to loose weight is no matter what, you must eat. Something that we all have in common, is in order to live, we must eat. We have been raised differently as to what to eat, how to prepare food, what time of the day we should eat, what type of self imposed restrictions should we have, and so on? If, like me, you come from a family of overweight people (only on my fathers side), chances are you will be fat. It is similar to alcoholics and drug abusers. If it is in the socialization of the family environment, then your chances are greater that you will follow in those foot steps. I also believe that genetics play somewhat of a role. There can be no doubt that there are people who can eat anything they please, and as much of it as they please, and still maintain a trim figure. Then, like me, there are those who gain weight just from watching the food channel on television. But, I return to personal responsibility. Being genetically enabled to eat whatever and how much ever food we want is not a license to gain weight. We are still responsible what goes in between our lips.
There is a produce industry gaining momentum which is becoming more frequent in some grocery stores, and it is Organic Food. Organic food is food which is not pumped full of hormones and preservatives and special insecticides and so forth. Organics are grown naturally. However, the main hindrance in buying organics is the price. Sometimes the prices for organic foods are double non-organic, or more.
What are the solutions? I think eating organic food is perhaps the alternative. There are organic meats, grains, produce, and diary. This includes chips, cereals, soups, and just about anything that could come otherwise. Again, the serious issue is the price. As the FDA controls the food industry, I wonder how much responsibility the US Government is willing to take. Here is where you may think that I am getting paranoid. But please take all this into consideration. The FDA (Food and Drug Administration, the Government sanctioned organization over seeing the Food and Drug industries, much like the IRS does for our taxes) and its upper management is filled with professionals that used to work for pharmaceutical companies and food industry professionals. They, the upper management, still continue to have a relationship with these individuals. My understanding is everybody knows everybody, they are all in the same circles, and they all maintain personal and professional relationships. They are a close nit group of people. This, along with the nonsensical truth that the Food industry is making people fatter, the FDA has declared Obesity as a disease. The Drug companies can’t treat a “syndrome” with prescription drugs, only diseases. So, the friends of the drug industry, who are also the friends of the food industry, are allowed to create drugs to cure obesity, or even worse, their drugs are manufactured to address the results of obesity: heart disease, diabetes, cholesterol, etc. So, in review, the FDA, who are friends of the Food and Drug industry, allow the food industry to make bigger and fatter products, which in turn make us bigger and fatter, which in turn create a need for us to spend more money in the drug industry. It is all about money. This is a tight nit “boys club” that is making money off of our health. By the way, it is my understanding this is not a national secret, and if you know where to look, this can be verified by yourself; probably some online work. Again, organic fresh food seems to be the way to go.
I think if they wanted to, the Government could totally change the obesity “epidemic” in this county, or at least seriously curb it by creating a federally funded weight loss political and social environment. It could safely be said that the FDA and the industry they serve are too large for the Executive branch to take on. It would take all three branches of the Government to possibly affect the current condition we are in. However, there are ways of going around these things. One of which would be Legislative programs constructed to benefit the American public.
How about a tax break or refund for people who register themselves through their healthcare provide as obese, and lose weight and meet their weight loss goal? That might provide an answer. How about not charging sales tax on Organic food? What about giving the Fitness clubs and organizations (Weight Watchers, Curves, Gold’s Gym, etc.) huge tax breaks for success? I know that these organizations thrive on us NOT loosing weight and staying in perpetual need of these companies, but if we made it more cost efficient to create success, then they might become more successful. How about increasing the mandate for public schools to offer only low-carb, low calorie meals for all students? Why not, they will not allow peanut butter on the school premises if only one child has a food allergy. Childhood obesity can be just as dangerous as a food allergy. Why not have computer generated item by item tracking systems of what your child is eating in school? Again, this leads us back to the FDA’s plan to make a fat country which will rely on pharmaceuticals for life. But this could be combated. It wouldn’t’ harm children of any size and shape to eat a low calorie, low carbohydrate diet. How about Organic Growers be given tax free profits? Or, how about putting on a fat tax on fast food, both on drive through/over the counter sales, and wholesale; this would provide income for the Organic Growers to get their tax benefits? How about having stars do PSA’s (Public Service Announcements) on tackling obesity and/or eating organics? Why not have annual tax refunds for anybody who can prove that they lost weight and went down to their ideal size? This of course would have to go through the health industry, which would provide more income for the health industry. The goal would be to provide a way to shift the money’s put into our getting fatter, into our staying thin.
Many people eat excessively due to unattended emotional needs. They feed the heart with comfort, and that comfort comes in the form of food. Food can be a good friend. It makes you feel good. It gives to you without making any conditions. It doesn’t complain, it doesn’t fight back, it just gives. It gives and makes you feel better (not to all people). So, we eat. If we are lonely, we eat; if we are bored, we eat; if we are angry, we eat; if we are down, we eat; we eat, we eat, we eat. Surprisingly, those emotions rarely make us want to get up and exercise. The truth is, exercise boosts our endorphins, and that makes us feel better. It just doesn’t come naturally to some people. Many times, as children, when we are feeling these emotions, we are fed to make us feel better.
With this in consideration, perhaps, along with eating organic food, we need some therapy. We need to be taught, or given tools to learn how to not feed our emotions with food, but to deal with our emotions. We must be given the tools to deal with the stresses of life and process our feelings. This doesn’t come naturally either.
Lastly, the solution to loosing weight, other than eating organic food and taking therapy, is exercising. It is good old fashion getting off your butt and get moving. I take several small walks with my dog everyday. If I didn’t, I would be much worse off. However, I know that I personally have to increase my exercise in order to take off the pounds. Regardless of how much hormone induced foods, or fast food I eat, if I don’t exercise, I’m finished. Exercise makes you feel better, it boosts energy, and it activates our brains and imaginations. One problem that many face is that they have indulged in being obese for so long, it has affected their wellbeing to the point where their health is not permitting an active life, and they are barely able to exercise at all
In conclusion, living a life of obesity may be due to a combination of reasons, and combinations of excuses, but it doesn’t have to be a life sentence. It may take baby steps, slowly switching to organics, income permitting; slowly stopping the fast food habit, which would allow you to buy organic food; slowly figuring out your emotional dependencies on food, and slowly starting to exercise. It will take hard work, but I know that I’m up to the challenge. I say, don’t judge the fat person, for they have a lot going against them. In fact, befriend an overweight person, you just might be the influence they need to change their life, and become the person they want to be.

Update...

2007-03-28T10:52:00.000-05:00

Update…

Well, I just started my new quarter this week. I received my grades from last quarter. I earned a 4.0. I am very excited. I also received last week my sample/waiting for approval copy of my “September Blue” chapbook. I am self publishing through lulu.com. You can order a copy now, I think…Just search the book title or my name under P. Allan Frederick. You should find it. If not, look under ID 288626. I still haven’t approved my book yet, and that may not allow you to buy one. They are $11.00 on Lulu, but if you pre-order through me, I’ll sell them to you at $8.00 plus shipping. But that means that you will have to send me about $9.50 before hand. I’m not giving out my address, so the discount is for my friends and family who already have my mailing address. However, I ask, that if you are able, to buy it through Lulu.com. I will have copies at the Arts in the Park festival here in Flatwoods on the 14th of April (two weeks!). The festival is looking to be pretty awesome. Of course our main concern is the size of the crowd, but we are blitzing for the next two weeks, and we’ll see what happens. I of course will do my annual update and fill in for the haps of the festival. I am feeling a little frustrated about it. It started out about poets, but now, the feeling in the club is to get a big crowd for having a big crowd’s sake. We have four or five musical acts, a handful of people that want to do a reading, and hopefully some artist who will show up with their wares. I have a feeling that next year we will have to find somebody who’ll be simi-pro organizer who can really bring this thing to a head, and make it really awesome. It builds momentum every year, and we can only hope that this year will be amazing.

What I would like to do though, if offer an annual workshop to the public, that is not a club meeting, nor a special outdoors event. See, April was declared National Poetry Month by the Academy of American Poets. They publicize events all year, and coordinate many themselves. So, I’d like to just do a workshop, in maybe the library, or even someday an extension of the April event, maybe in the senior center next to the park. I don’t know, we’ll have to see.

Well, that’s it for now.

Possible final draft??

2007-03-08T20:10:00.000-05:00

ENG 150
Professor J. Jones
Assignment: Short Story
Second Revision
P. Allan Frederick

Prince Lion and the Monster

I could but scarcely believe what my eyes beheld as I pulled open the ancient, massive wooden hatch. The howling, reeking beast towered over me. Its rancid stench filled my nostrils as I trembled from the dreadful mien on its face. I could hardly stand as I held my spear with as much courage as I, Prince Lion, could muster. I pulled my shaking arm back, ready to launch my lance into its face, when, to my great astonishment, it stopped its ferocious roaring and sniffed at my head. I paused--was it possible that this massive mountain of a creature could be pacified? Then, without notice, it sat on its hind haunches. Foul breezes wafting from its mouth blew in and out as it stared at me with a look of expectancy. Confused, I lowered my spear and stood, looking back at its relaxed face. It appeared as though this “watch dog” would let me pass after all.
Its eyes, nose and mouth looked like those of a man, but with a single horn protruding from its forehead. Fur, or perhaps filthy hair, surrounded its face like the petals of a hideous flower. Its body was a gigantic mound of scales and hide in the shape of a wild bull. Its color was pitch but for its face, which was scarlet like blood. Its steaming, giant, black hooves were double my girth and height. Its pungent odor would prevent any type of surprise it might gain on its foes, or should I say victims; however, its size would make up for any need of surprise. I slowly started to walk around it, heading towards the great massive door.
“HOLD!” it roared.
I froze in my tracks.
“You may not pass,” said the great monster. “You must solve the riddles three, before you journey this tunnel free.”
I looked at it and felt a slight tinge of fear come back. Solving riddles? I hadn’t expected a game of wits to come from such a terrifying creature.
“What are these riddles?” I boldly questioned.
“The first,” it responded, “goes like this – Round as a ball, but flat as a board, altar of the lupine lord. Pearl on black velvet, face of a man, bringing brilliance like the candle can. What is it?”
I repeated the riddle in my mind, rushing to solve this quandary. Quickly, it came to me.
“I know what it is that you describe; ‘tis the moon which you speak of!”
“Well done, young Prince. You’ve done one, now two is next, time for the other for you’ll be vexed.” It had a creepy, bitter smile that covered his yellow teeth as it spoke. Still, with each word and each breath, putrid foul gases rose through the air in the domed chamber that we were in. I looked, and just past this rank living thing was the smaller tunnel that I wished to gain access to. I feared that this overwhelmingly massive animal would best me in this war of words. I needed a back up plan, and needed one quick. Was I up to solving these puzzles, while coming up with a plan? I needed to find its weak spot; I knew that it had to have one.
“Wind through feathers,” the hideous beast snorted, “gallop through clouds.
This fabled creature makes Perseus proud. What is it?”
“Perseus, Perseus, Perseus…” I thought to myself. Where had I heard that name before? Then, like a lightning bolt, it hit me! The Greek hero of the days of old -- he rode the Pegasus!
“I know what it is that you are thinking of, Giant…” I answered. “It is the Pegasus that you speak of!”
The huge brute let out a diminutive nervous growl. “I see that I face a learned man this night. But I don’t fear; as the keeper of the gate, I’m always near. But still there is one riddle left. One for sure you’ll never get.”
I didn’t like that little growl. The beast had started showing signs of nervousness. It was erratically wagging its bushy, bristly tail. Its keen round eyes were slightly bulging. It was evident that he was not used to people winning. I figured that this next riddle would for sure stump me, but there was always hope. I thought of our patron saint; Brother Bugglebee of Southforkton, in all his grace, would surely guide me by his spirit, bless his dead soul. Still, I did not see the creature’s weakness.
“I must warn you, Lion Prince, that if you do not solve this riddle third, I will eat you like a broken bird.”
“But if I win, you’ll let me pass?”
“That is the tradition. In all my years of this slavery to the Grand Master, only once had I failed him. That one man who passed is now the new Grand Master, who spared my life. In his pretentious pomposity he concluded that no man was his equal, so he continued to let me live and serve as his humble watchman. BE AFRAID!” he roared with exploding bits of spittle, rancid fumes, and ear-splitting bell tones cracking my skeletal cage to near powder. The cavern filled with flaming funk as his front pig iron hooves sparked the cold stone floor. His countenance still had that eerie revolting smirk that could blind a seeing man and revive a sick man only to die upon its gaze.
“I am a hero,” I said to myself, “and this conflict is not beyond me.” Still no weak spot and one riddle left. “What is your last riddle for me, my gargantuan friend?” He was opening his mouth to speak, and I peered my head forward into his gaping maw, and I saw it. I saw what I wanted. It had an infected tooth. This orange pumpkin was bleeding with bits of bone wedged between its black gum. One throw to the tooth should be all that I need to distract it enough so that I may pass. All I needed to do was make it through the eye-burning, nose-wrenching, and bone-rattling gasses that seep out its mouth like poisonous pit snakes ejecting their venom at their foes. “Be it my man half or lion half, I’m braver than both!” I thought to myself. It was at that time that I had to act.
“I’m ready for your final riddle, oh proud creature!”
“Then my final riddle is this: what type of bird would I eat?”
“What?” I asked in a nary-mannish squeaky voice.
“Bird, my young Prince, what kind of bird would I eat?” He glared at me with fiery globes fixated on me like burning bushes. Bird, bird, bird…bird I thought. “What was it I had seen in his teeth?” I asked myself. Bones, but wait, was it bones? I had to look again. There was something about those bones and his teeth that made it seem like a wrong question.
“Well, young Prince? What is your answer?”
As he spoke, I looked again into its mouth and saw what I remembered seeing earlier: Molars! It was molars, with sticks stuck in them, not bones. With his bull body, he had to have been a tree eater, and not a meat eater!
“You would want me to name a bird if you will, perhaps the goose, or chicken or swill? Perhaps you would like me to mention the eagle, vulture, or hawk, but then we would have to have engaged in combat. I know for sure that it is trees that you eat, perhaps even eating flowers as your treat. If that be so, then the bird I know, ‘tis the flower, Bird of Paradise!”
The beast roared with echoing madness making bits of dust, gravel and stone fall from the domed chamber. “You are right, young Prince, you are right. I said that I would let you pass, but my master would have my head. Perhaps we could strike up a deal instead.”
“I know what it is that I can do for you, my friend, with my spear. Not gouge your eye or stab your foot, but to solve your tooth ache and severe wretched breath!”
“Um, I have bad breath?” it whimpered. “None have told me this. Why have not all those who have tried to pass told me this?”
“Perhaps it is fear that stops them?” I answered cautiously. After we discussed the matter, he opened his mouth; I took my spear and wedged out the stick and weeds from his teeth and gums. The behemoth let out a slight whimper. I took the sticks and greens in my hand, held them high, and he smelled them.
“Oh, the stench! The shame!” he roared. “A great many thanks to you young Prince Lion; perhaps you do deserve to pass this beast anyhow, regardless of my master’s wrath! And pass you shall.” He looked at me in a strange yet not alarming look of affection. “It seems that we must now say our goodbyes. I must warn you, though, my prince, I am but the first obstacle in your way. There are many creatures and traps that are in your path, some more dangerous than I…perhaps I should wish you luck as well, although you will need more than luck!”
I looked at him and smiled, “At least I have made a friend thus far my behemoth brother. Perhaps my good luck has already started?” I made way past the monster as he bowed in my wake. I entered the increasingly narrowing tunnel, and heard a loud howling shriek. I turned my head back to my new enormous friend. He just smirked and shook his head.

First Draft of Narrative Short Story for class...

2007-02-12T13:11:00.000-05:00

ENG 150
Professor J. Jones
Assignment: Short Story
First Draft
P. Allan Frederick
February 7, 2007

I could scarcely believe what my eyes beheld as I pulled open the ancient aching wooden hatch. The howling reeking beast towered over me. Its rancid stench filled my nostrils as I trembled from the dreadful mien on its face. I could hardly stand as I held my spear with as much courage as I, Prince Lion, could muster. I pulled my shaking arm back, ready to launch my lance into its face, when, to my great astonishment, it stopped its ferocious roaring, and sniffed at my head. I paused -- was it possible that this massive mountain of a creature could be pacified? Then, without notice, it sat on its hind haunches. Foul breezes wafting from its mouth blew in and out as it stared at me with a look of expectancy. Confused, I lowered my spear and stood, looking back at its relaxed face. It appeared as though this “watch dog” would let me pass after all.
Its features looked like a man but with a single horn protruding from its forehead. Fur or perhaps filthy hair surrounded it face like the petals of a hideous flower. Its body was that of a bull, but like a gigantic mound of scales mixed with hide. Its color was pitch but for its face, which was scarlet like blood. Its hooves were twice my size, and I a man of great girth and height. Its pungent odor would prevent any type of surprise it might gain on its foes, or should I say victims; however, its size would make up for any need of surprise. I slowly started to walk around it heading towards the great massive door.
“HOLD!” it roared.
I froze in my tracks.
“You may not pass.” said the great monster. “You must solve the riddles three, before you journey this tunnel free.”
I looked at it and felt a slight tinge of fear come back. Solving riddles? I hadn’t expected a game of wits to come from such a terrifying creature.
“What are these riddles?” I boldly questioned.
“The first,” it responded, “goes like this – Round as a ball, but flat as a board, altar of the lupine lord. Pearl on black velvet, face of a man, bringing brilliance like the candle can. What is it?”
I repeated the riddle in my mind, rushing to solve this quandary. Quickly, it came to me.
“I know what it is that you describe, ‘tis the moon that which you speak of!”
“Well done, young prince. You’ve done one, now two is next, time for the other for you’ll be vexed.” He had a creepy bitter smile that covered his yellow teeth as he spoke. Still with each word and each breath putrid foul gases rose through the air in the domed chamber that we were in. I looked and just past this rank living thing was the smaller tunnel that I wished to gain access to. I feared that I would still not pass this war of words that this overwhelmingly massive animal, if you can call it that, had yet to reveal. I needed a back up plan, and needed one quick. Was I up to solving these puzzles, while coming up with a plan? I needed to find its weak spot; I new that it had to have one.
“Wind through feathers,” the hideous beast snorted, “Gallop through clouds.
This fabled creature makes Perseus proud. What is it?”
“Perseus, Perseus, Perseus…” I thought to my self. Where had I heard that name before? Then, like a lightning bolt, it hit me! The Greek hero of the days of old -- he rode the Pegasus!
“I know what it is that you are thinking of, Giant…” I answered. “It is the Pegasus that you speak of!”
The huge brute let out a diminutive nervous growl. “I see that I face a learned man this night. But I don’t fear, as the keeper of the gate, I’m always near. But still there is one riddle left. One for sure you’ll never get.”
I didn’t like that little growl. The beast had started showing signs of nervousness. It was erratically waging its bushy, bristly tail. It keen round eyes were slightly bulging. I was evident that he was not used to people winning. I figured that this next riddle would for sure stump me, but there was always hope. I though of our patron saint, Brother Bugglebee of Southforkton, in all his grace would surely guide me by his spirit, bless his dead soul. Still, I did not see the creature’s weakness.
“I must warn you Lion Prince, that if you do not solve this riddle third, I will eat you like a broken bird.”
“But if I win, you’ll let me pass?”
“That is the tradition. In all my years of this slavery to the Grand Master, only once had I failed him. That one man who passed is now the new Grand Master, who spared my life. In his pretentious pomposity he concluded that no man was his equal, so he continued to let me live and serve has his humble watchman.”
“BE AFRAID!” he roared with exploding bits of spittle, rancid fumes, and ear splitting bells tones cracking my skeletal cage to near powder. The cavern filled with flaming funk as his front pig iron hooves sparked the cold stone floor. His countenance still had that eerie revolting smirk that could blind a seeing man and revive a sick man only to die upon its gaze.
I am a hero, I said to myself, and I am up to this. Still no weak spot, and one riddle left. “What is your last riddle for me my gargantuan friend?” He was opening his mouth to speak, and I peered my head forward into his gapping maw, and I saw it. I saw what I wanted. It had an infected tooth. This orange pumpkin was bleeding with bits of bone wedged between its black gum. One throw to the tooth should all be that I need to distract enough so that I may pass. All I needed to do was make it through the eye burning, nose wrenching, and bone rattling gasses that seep out its mouth like poisonous pit snakes ejecting their venom at their foes. I’m as brave as any man, or half man in my case, could be, I told myself in my mind. This was it, this was the go time.
“I’m ready for your final riddle oh proud creature!”
“Then my final riddle is this, what type of bird would I eat?”
“What?” I asked in a nary-mannish squeaky voice.
“ Bird my young Prince, what kind of bird would I eat?” He glared at me with fiery globes fixated on me like burning bushes. Bird, bird, bird…bird I thought. “What was it I had seen in his teeth?” I asked to myself. Bones, but wait, was it bones? I had to look again. There was something about those bones, and his teeth that made it seem like a wrong question.
“Well young Prince? What is your answer?”
That time I saw what I thought. Molars! It was molars, with sticks stuck in them, not bones. With his bull body, he had to have been a tree eater, and not a meat eater!
“You would want me to name a bird if you will, perhaps the goose, or chicken or swill? Perhaps you would like me to mention the eagle, vulture, or hawk, but then we would have to have fought. I know for sure that it is trees that you eat; perhaps even eating flowers as your treat. If that be so, then the bird I know, ‘tis the flower, Birds of Paradise!”
The beast roared with echoing madness making bits of dust, gravel and stone fall from the domed chamber. “You are right young Prince, you are right. I said that I would let you pass, but my master would have my head. Perhaps we could strike up a deal instead.”
“I know what it is that I can do for you, my friend, with my spear. Not gouge your eye or stab your foot, but to solve your tooth ache and severe wretched breath!”
“Um, I have bad breath?” it whimpered. “None have told me this. Why have not all those who have tried to pass told me this?”
“Perhaps it is fear that stops them?” I answered cautiously. After we discussed the matter, he opened his mouth, I took my spear and wedged out the stick and weeds from his teeth and gums. The behemoth let out a slight whimper. I took the sticks and greens in my hand, held them high, and he smelled them.
“Weeeooooo those smell bad. The shame I feel. Thanks to you young Prince; perhaps you do deserve to pass after all.” We said our farewells and good bye’s as he let me pass. A few feet into the tunnel -- I heard a wail from deep within the bowls of this cave. I knew that my adventure had just begun!

Check Out My New Blog

2007-01-22T11:08:00.000-05:00

That's right, I have started a third blog. This one, however, will require more out of me, but less writing. Please check it out - The Prayer - Thanks!

What am I Reading?

2007-01-21T13:39:00.000-05:00

What am I reading? That is a good question. I feel as though the appropriate question should be what am I not reading. I am just starting my fourth Kate Morgan/Dewey James murder mystery this month. Actually, it is four murder mysteries that I have already read, but only three Kate Morgan. I have also read “The Peanut Butter Murders” by Corinne Holt Sawyer. Although I like the septuagenarian protagonist Dewey James, I really, really liked the two female protagonists’ in the “The Peanut Butter Murders”; those two are also in their sixties. These two are really very funny characters, and make for good detectives and are good for more than a few laughs.
I am also spending three or four hours a week reading my Art History text book for school. It is quiet a bit to absorb, but well worth it. I am learning quite a bit about Roman Art and Antiquities. It is fascinating and a welcome education. I’ve always wanted to be somewhat of an aficionado when it comes to the history of art, and now at least I will know some basics. I have an excellent Professor. He is witty and vastly intelligent; and should I say extremely thorough.
The two recreational books I ordered with a little surplus student loan money are another Reverend Al Miles book (Domestic Violence – What Every Pastor Needs to Know), and The Essential Werewolf by Night by Marvel Comics. The Werewolf by Night is Volume One and covers the first 21 issues of the comic, plus his debut in the second through fourth issue of Marvel Spotlight, and his guest appearance in The Tomb of Dracula #18, and Marvel Team-up #12. Marvel Team-up is Spiderman plus a second hero. It is a great collection and a great deal of fun. Of course in the “Essential” collection of Marvel comics, it comes in a thick huge volume, printed in black and white, and printed on newsprint. That keeps the price down, but doesn’t neglect the art quality and story. What I like about these big collections is that you can really see the evolution of the comic book, and exactly how far things have come over the past thirty years; but that just makes for all the more fun in reading it.
The Reverend Al Miles book is actually the precursor to the other one that I read and felt so inspired from. I look forward to reading it, but the challenge will be the emotional toll it takes to read such a thing. The first one that I read, “Violence in Families; What Every Christian Needs to Know”. took a great deal out of me. Reading testimonial after testimonial is emotionally exhausting for me, so I am kind of waiting to read this new one. However, I told my friend that I would support her efforts and cause, and in my deepest heart, I intend to. But that doesn’t mean it isn’t hard.
Now, what am I going to read in the future? Well, one of my bestest buddies from Columbus, OH has highly recommended Douglas Jacoby's book The Quiver. I haven’t read a Douglas Jacoby book in some time, and I look forward to it. Everything related to Douglas Jacoby can be found here - http://www.douglasjacoby.com/ .
Then finally and most importantly I am reading The Bible. I do have to admit that my bible time has diminished. Well, I am repenting of that. I do have a sober understanding that an education without the balance of prioritizing my relationship with God can be toxic. I see everyday how knowledge can corrupt as much as it can set you free. As the old Stan Lee/Spiderman quote goes, “With great power comes great responsibility.”
I have been studying the concept of war (again) in a biblical perspective. I believe that I have made it quite clear in other blogs and such that I think that this current war is a terrible mistake, blunder, and tragedy. It was a created war that only feeds the greed of a select few, including this new stance the President is taking, which is not supported by the military, Congress, and the American public, and would only feed the machine better known as Halliburton. But the more important issue is that many “Christian” conservative (which definitively means “wanting to conserve the status quo”) people and leaders actually think that George Bush is somewhat spiritual. Tragic! I have come to the conclusion that to biblically support the war is a violation of the will of Christ. The scriptures make it plain that we, as Christians, ordained by God, are unequivocally supposed to lead peaceful lives, and in fact, create peace whenever possible. I know that the usual point that many Christians bring up is Hitler. Well, although that is a tired point, it is a valid point. There is no doubt that what The Third Reich was doing was entirely evil, and they needed to be stopped. But the reality is that not very many people are true BIBILCAL Christians, and the reality is that wars like that are fought by nations of a high moral fiber versus the destructive evil. The deeper truth is that no one and no cause including violence is the responsibility of a Christian. War is an action and reaction of the “WORLD”. Also, the truth of the matter is that if everybody were a Christian, there would be no war. That is how we know that war is stemmed in Evil, and not only the Evil of Satan, but also the evil of man.

The New Year!

2007-01-01T12:08:00.000-05:00

I start school this week, and I am greatly excited. As I look forward to this year, I think to myself what do I have to look forward to? First and foremost on my mind is school. By this time next year, I hope to have at least 27 more credits going towards my AA. This Winter I expect to pull myself out of academic probation, and at that point, some credits from my previous college in the early 90’s should also come through. I like having three quarters a year instead of two semesters. You can just get more credits sooner and reduce the time it takes to get your degree. My dream and goal is to have my AA by the time I’m 40! I would love to start my fourth decade in life with a college degree.

This winter I won’t be taking any classes that are focused on developing my poetry skills, but definitely my writing skills. So cool! The value of the decision in making changes in my life is immense. Our life circumstances are difficult, but they need to change, and I realize that living day to day, day in and day out, doing things the same, day in day out, week in, week out, month in, month out, year in, year out doesn’t bring about change. I have to admit that taking these steps to change my life is a result of, yes God’s grace, but that utilized through five years of therapy. My therapist is a cognitive therapy specialist. She very much thinks like Dr. Phil, but without trying to sell her latest book on a constant basis. In fact, she is completely generous and compassionate. Most of our therapy is just talk therapy. We chat like we are friends. But she is so highly intellectual, and I think that some people would have a hard time following along with our discussions, that I am completely inspired to take my life higher. I have come to the further conclusion that I would be dangerous with an education. By that I am meaning dangerous in the sense of being better to express myself, be more knowledgeable and effective, and have better tools and being better equipped to interact with my peers and contemporaries.

I also find that I have great difficulty expressing myself in a manner that I would like. I would like my poetry to be compassionate, truthful, and uncompromised. But mostly, I would like it to be the direct expression of my heart and the truth of my life as it is. Many times I will read blog’s of other people who also read my blog, and I think to myself, “Didn’t I say that just a year ago?” Then it occurred to me that what I am thinking in my mind and what comes out are not the same thing. I tend to condense my prose, and overly writ my poetry and thus creating a product that is not pure in relation to my intentions. I find this very frustrating, and hope that my education will help me overcome this dilemma.

For me, that past three years has gone by very quickly. I can only hope that the next three will do the same and in the meanwhile, gather together that education that I have so envied in the past. I am not just hoping for a couple of degree’s, but the knowledge it self. I hope to procure an intellectual maturity that I feel that I lack. I tend to make friends with people who have an educated background, but have always lacked on myself. This is the one thing that I desire to reconcile.

I will continue to stay active with the Flatwoods Poetry Society and the Kentucky State Poetry Society, and continue to write this blog and the other one (The Deep Reader), and my perpetual bible study. However, I am quiet sure that my need to continually be engaged in a productive project of one kind or another will subside during the course of obtaining my education. I do plan, however, to get published again and continuing more so as the next couple of years go by, so that by educations end, I will have a list of publishing accreditations along with my degree.

I have great hope for the future. I am convinced that I survived the past seven years for a reason, and that reason is to be as effective for my creator as possible. My confidence in this is not only His immense grace, but also the completion of my education.

Newest Christmas Poem

2006-12-19T16:32:00.000-05:00

This is my newest Christmas poem that I wrote for the Carter County Poet Society's Christmas Party:

That ‘ol Magic Mistletoe

New gifts and wrapping paper
Strewn across the floor
Baby is in heaven
And she is just not bored

Pappy is drinking coffee
With “Earnhardt” by his feet
Granny is so happy
That baby’s morn is complete

Mother is taking pictures
Trying to fit it all in
Dad is lookin’ at mother
In wonder of her grin

Turkey’s in the oven
Filling the house with warm
Pumpkin Pie is baking
And outside is a snowstorm

Soon, all will settle
With dishes in the sink
Dad is in the doorway
And giving Mom a wink

She looks above Dad’s big head
And he gives a ho ho ho
Dad invites her over
For that ol’ Magic Mistletoe

Mother knows what Dad wants
It is one of his Christmas wishes
Nothing to elaborate
Just plenty of Christmas kisses.

Christmas Poem!!

2006-12-06T13:34:00.000-05:00

I am completely excited about school. I registered today, and I am completely psyched. I’m taking a writing essentials class, and an Art History class. I am also excited about my student loans. It appears as though I might be able to not only buy my books, but perhaps a laptop as well. Too cool! My short term is to just get my AAH, then onto a BFA in Creative Writing with an Emphasis on Poetry. So extremely cool. This going back to school thing just feels like a natural fit. I never realized just how much of my psyche was leaning on the fact that I had not finished school, but it was really there.

I have been writing some poetry lately. Here is a Christmas Poem I wrote. I probably won’t be back till the New Year.

A Really Bad Forced Rhyme Christmas Poem

The Emperor’s call had filled the Inn
He had to turn people away.
Then one night THEY came to him
Regrets they had no place to stay

“I normally don’t tell anyone
But there is a place you could sleep
It’s damp, dirty, and smells real bad
And you’d be sleeping with sheep”

“But it has a roof and keeps out the cold
I think it is better than nothing
I see your wife is carrying a child
Let me know if you need anything.”

As he went back to his Inn on this cool eve
He felt that this night was historic
He looks up the sky to see what’s bright
A star but nothing angelic

The irony was lost to him
Until the shepherds did come
They asked him if a child was born
They called it the Lord of the kingdom

The Inn Keeper lead them all outside
As said, “Try looking in there.”
He pointed to that barn of his
“You might find a lonely pair.”

He watched as those men did find
Those strangers in the barn
Then he heard a baby cry and he said to himself
“Maybe it’s not just a yarn?”

Then later on that night some more came
To see that special baby
Except they were rich and handsomely dressed
And shared their generosity

A caravan it was that came that night
Particularly three wise men
They came to give their special praise
“For He is the King of Men!”

By morning time it all calmed down
The Inn Keeper decided to look
Perhaps these strangers were more than that
Perhaps their worth he mistook

“Now I’ll find a room for them,
For they seem to have really mattered
I’ll kick someone out of his own room
And perhaps these three will be gladder”

They didn’t turn down his offer that day
And decided to stay in the Inn
Grateful they were of him that is
And they blessed his home and his kin.

So next time you’re ask by someone
“Do you have room and board?”
Say, You’ll have to stay in our small barn
Just like Jesus my Lord.”

TOO EXCITING!

2006-11-07T15:49:00.000-05:00

I have made some minor decisions that will lead to major changes. I’ve been working on this bookstore business plan for months, since summer actually, and the more I research, the more I realize that I am not ready for the task. At the same time that I was coming to this conclusion, I also decided that my ultimate dream is to get my education.

On that note, recently I have had contact with one of my best friends from High School (and the few short years after that, of which we became roommates), and his life has inspired me to go back to school.

All this was decided as of last week. Since then, I have applied to Ohio University Southern (an extension of the famous OU of the sixties’ riots, in Athens OH), and things are moving. I have applied for financial aid, and am waiting my response, I have taken my placement testing, I have talked to a counselor, and I have had my college transcripts sent. Well, I didn’t get enough college in (in the late 80’s early 90’s) to be considered a transfer student, so I also need to get my high school transcripts. This is turning out to be a obstacle. I wanted to get them to OUS by this Friday, but the woman who does transcripts at Tempe High is on vacation this week. I wanted to register for classes next week, but that looks like it will have to wait another week.

Anyway, I am completely jazzed, I mean really, really joyful and feeling a sense of contentment and resolution. I hadn’t realized how heavily this weighed on my heart. When I took the placement testing, I did better in math than I thought, and worse on writing than I would have thought. I placed in Math 102, which is awesome. I thought for sure that I was going to test at Math 065. Math 102 is elementary Algebra (which is a major challenge for me), but is also a credited class, which means it is the only Math that I will have to take for my degree (I’ll get to that in a second). So, I am excited, very much. In fact, I thought that the only thing that would stop me from getting my degree would be the math credit.

On my reading score, I placed in the top range with a 94. That’s too cool, which means I go straight in at Level 3. But, with writing, my chosen profession, I scored a 61 and placed at ENG 150. However, that is also totally cool, just a little surprising. I really thought I had a decent grip on my grammar…guess not. But I have been wanted to take this course for a while anyway, a pre-primer type of thing, as it were.

Okay, my major for my BA is Creative Writing with emphasis on Poetry, and my minor is in Art. Too cool huh? After talking to my counselor, I decided that although I am declaring a major (mainly for financial aid purposes), my class schedule will reflect the AA that I am shooting for. I think that I would be seriously dangerous with a college education (for Jesus of course). I am excited most of all to learn, but just to think that I, of all people, could have a college degree in three or four years, is AWESOME!

I can only hope that my writing will vastly improve, as well as my poetry. I think that one day, each word and its placement will have an intent on it. Although I still mostly write poetry from inspiration, I still know that I can exponentially improve; which will increase my chances for publication, and so forth. Too exciting!

Edit: I correct myself, I will still need to take another Math in order to meet the tier 1 major requirments, but there is something called Math 109; Consumer Math. I don't know if that is easier than Algebra, but I hope so.

2006-10-10T11:31:00.000-05:00

I finished my “Jesus and the M16” manuscript over a month ago. I have been relatively ignoring it so as to work on my business plan for the bookstore. Well, I am almost done with the business plan. I have all the information I need, it just needs to be put together in a publishable manner, of which I have already started. However, the whole family isn’t on board with opening a bookstore and having that in our lives, so until that happens, that project is on hold. So now I am looking to do something with the manuscript. I had a copy printed, then went over it and took out the rough spots (which included rewriting big portions), but I am happy with what I have now. I’ve explored some avenues, none of which I am happy with. I looked on line for a “Christian” publisher, but most of what are being published by them is milquetoast “Christian culture” crap. I am looking for an edgy publisher that will take this book on as a project. First time author...good luck! I’m not a first time first time author, but I’ve only self published before (my first chapbook). The truth is, this is just a chapbook too. Maybe I’ll just have some printed up here at the office supply store and assemble them myself. That ways I can do a limited addition first printing. That’d be kind of cool. Ideally I would go to lulu.com and have the book POD there, but that cost about $150.00, and I don’t have an extra $150.00 to spend. The advantage of having it on lulu.com is to have an ISBN, and have a website to promote the book, and have it available at Amazon.com. I think it actually runs about $180.00. Regardless, that option is always available next spring when we get our tax return. So maybe I’ll do both.

This is my third chapbook manuscript, but the one that I am most proud of. If you want one, let me know and I’ll send you one. It’ll run you $6, so that’s something to think about. Just send the $6 to:

J&M16
C/o P. Allan Frederick
2303 Argillite Road
Flatwoods, KY 41139

It’ll be a limited edition first self print, numbered, and I’ll sign it, just let me know who to. I think you’ll enjoy. If you have any questions of what I meant by a certain poem, or would like me to explain my thinking on something, let me know and I’ll do it here on this blog.

Hot Dog Dreams

2006-10-02T09:04:00.000-05:00

Here is a new poem that I have written. I am hoping that as soon as you read it, you will leave a response in the comments box. I am looking for an immediate response, or first response. I am proud of this poem and well, that’s all I want to say until you read it.

Hot Dog Dreams

told to like my new neighborhood
taking a walk, looking at new houses
and old ones
hearing panting through a green
painted fence that is chipped
looking between the cracks
seeing a dog, maybe
seeing a dog skeleton with fur on it’s
neck, too heavy for its, no his
own strength
staring at me between the cracks
too weak to bark and seemingly
quite thirsty
looking at an empty water bowl
wondering when the last time he ate was
getting angry at his owner for keeping
him like this
making kissy noises to try to cheer him up
growling and panting at the same time
wagging his tail after a while but having
to work at it showing effort
running home to get him something to eat
taking half a package of cold hot dogs
back to his house
taking a hot dog and throwing it over the
fence
sniffing in the direction of the hot dog
slowly getting up with hard effort and
struggle
stretching out the chain that weighs
him down
pulling the chain tight with his mouth
three inches away from the
hot dog
wanting to cry for making it worse
grabbing the other three hot dogs ready
to throw them
stopping myself and reminding me to
think first
looking for something to stand on
hoping that this time I’m in a better shot
dragging a trash can from behind his fence
looking over and seeing him stare at
that first hot dog and whining
making more kissy noises to get his attention
aiming at his chain post so as not to miss
tossing all three victoriously within
his reach
inhaling with little effort to taste
knowing he could eat ten more
walking back towards the out of reach frank
knowing I made it worse
plotting to make a daily trip
wanting to cry for this tortured animal
wanting to bring it something to drink
resolving to tell mom to call somebody
to save this dog
talking to him to let him know I’ll be
back tomorrow
laying in bed at bed time thinking about
that dog
wanting to lie with him to keep him company
wishing to bring him home where he
would be made king of the house
with dog treats and bacon and
raw hamburger making him
fat and rubbing his belly and
putting his old owner in jail
not sleeping not helping trying to wish harder
praying for him to sleep and to have
hot dog dreams…

Politics

2006-09-10T14:42:00.000-05:00

My wife went to a sale in Columbus when she went there last month, and bought some books for me. The sale was selling somebody’s personal library, and that included some fantastic Literature books, whose author’s include Hemingway, Swift, Shaw, Chekhov, Dickens, Arthur Miller, Twain, Virgil, and more. It makes an excellent collection to my own library and I’m excited about it. It is rare to find such a great buy. The lady in charge of the sale is an old friend to Carla and she was only charging a dollar a bag. Very cool!

I’ve been working pretty hard at the business plan for the bookstore, and also selling some books on eBay. I am thinking about starting an online bookstore at eBay and using that to start my own physical effort here in town; just something to think about. Either that or I am going to keep these books for inventory for the store. It is hard to guess what the best course of action is. Basically I need some business advice, and not just on that issue, but on a number of issues. The further I get into this thing, the further I realize that I need somebody to steer me in the right direction in some areas. Groups like the ABA (American Bookseller’s Association) are willing to help you, but only if you join; and the cost of joining is astronomical.

The reason I mention this is because it is cutting into my poetry writing time and efforts. I have been writing some poetry, but it is slightly different that normal. You see, generally, I just write whatever is on my heart, and then submit it to magazines hoping to get published. But all I get is rejection after rejection. So, I picked a poetry journal, and am writing poetry that specifically is being writing like the poetry they publish; just as an experiment, to see if I replicate what is coming out of it, I may get published by it. It is a challenge of my talents, and one I hope will bear fruit. Of course I will update you on what happens, but it may take months before I hear back from them. I also thought maybe I should look up some “Christian” poetry journals and see if I can get my regular stuff published by them! Again, we will see.

Here is a poem from my new manuscript:

Politics

Wafting patriotism blindly
exceeds our narcissistic
needs to complain about
the free world’s self proclaimed
Leader. Stained t-shirts
fit snuggly when THEY
obey our opinions. But shrink
when we try to wash them.
Dream more of those
idealistic “should-be’s” which
stare blankly at our divine
bequest to change the
world back to Eden. Eden
awaits, in silence.

New Poem

2006-08-25T07:55:00.000-05:00

I wrote a new poem and wanted to share. It is kind of themed along the lines of a couple of poems in my newly finished manuscript, which I decided to self publish (I just need to make some copies, and when I do, you all can ask for one and I’ll send it to you), but it is not near as long as the other two. Here it is:

Still Wondering Still

Perhaps, just perhaps
our planet, within our solar
system, within our galaxy, within
our galaxy cluster, within our cluster's
cluster is what is to a Mega
Macro verse, as what an
electron is to us? And
in this Mega Macro verse is the
dwelling of God. Then,
perhaps on this little microscopic
subatomic electron is a dwelling of
some microscopic subatomic person
laying down on his subatomic bed,
writing this poem.

If this it be, then what is the
Mega Macro Poet doing to prepare us
into transformation to become His
bride? With the usage of spirit
technology, He is reversing the
negative ion of a positron-ic
spirit and filling those subatomic
people with His Mega Macroscopic
Spirit, only obtainable one way.

Only one portal can we under
go this soon enough transformation
that portal being the
Mega Macro micro sub atomic
POET known as JESUS CHRIST…

Doh!

2006-08-25T07:33:00.000-05:00

Somehow, all of my bookmarks got erased. That is about three or four year’s worth of book marking. I probably filled it beyond any limit there is and it crashed or something. I book mark almost anything that I would at anytime want to possibly revisit. I don’t know where they went, but I wish I did.

A New Limerick

2006-08-16T08:59:00.000-05:00

I started a new blog where I can discuss and express my more spiritual side. I used to have a rant blog, but I grew weary with it, and my therapist said I should drop it. Being the automaton that I am, I did exactly what she said (she has worked with me and miracles have happened in my mental recovery, so although not Christian, I still trust her greatly.). But, I find that I am overly expressing myself on other people’s blog’s, and it is because I am stifling that large part of me that must express its true voice, and so, if you wish, visit http://the-deep-reader.blogspot.com/ and you should see my first, maybe second post. I have some work to do with it, and it is going to be mostly initiated by a response to something that I have read, either in the bible, book, or magazine (maybe online too).

Well, I sent in my entrants to be judged for the FPS Annual Poetry Contest. It turns out that not many people entered. That is good and bad. It’s good because I have a better chance of winning. It’s bad because it doesn’t fairly represent what is going on in this region as far as talent and skill are concerned. I’m still up some formidable “foes” as it were, but there is some serious skill and talent in this region and I know that they are not representing themselves in this competition.

This whole issue is the responsibility of the officers of the FPS, one of which am I. It had occurred to me that since we were doing so well in our treasury, we should run an ad in the paper with the rules, categories, and entrance directions so more people could know about it. I think that except for our club, no one else even knew it was happening. Well, I didn’t force the issue, and I could have. I guess this is only my third year for the contest, and I assumed that this was already happening. It turns out that it wasn’t. I won’t make the same mistake next year. We will run an ad; especially if we do as well with fund raising during the FPS Poetry in the Park Festival that we have. We made three hundred dollars last spring, and we still have it. We should have run an ad. Well, we learn from our mistakes and move on!

Some of our members had mentioned our potential in working with students this year in order to encourage the poetic arts and literary skills. I think that this is a great idea. In fact, I just might suggest that we redo our contest for the students, make it a holiday competition, with publication in mind, team up with the local paper, and really go for it. The club could judge, and it could really be great. This isn’t entirely my idea, but I like the way I’m thinking.

Here is a Limerick:

King Saul
King Saul displeased the Lord
and fell on his own sword
when he was dead
they took his head
and hung it up on a board

Update...

2006-08-07T16:19:00.000-05:00

Well, Tina asked when I am going to update. So, this is it. It HAS been a while, but I have had a great deal going on in my life as far as my health is concerned, and I am just now getting “normal”, or at least as normal as I can get. It has been a real rough ride, including several stays at the hospital, a stress test, a heart cath, hallucinogens, insomnia with extreme nausea, and more. I know this isn’t really writing related, but I would like to give an update. Basically what happened is this: Being on SSD, I was forced to go on the new GWB Medicare Rx plan. Well, the provider mandated that in order for them to cover certain medications, I would have to try cheaper alternatives that should produce the same effect. I’m not talking generics to name brand, but different drugs all together. Well, it has taken 6 years and multiple doctors in order to get the medicated balance that I have, and they messed with it big time. It totally screwed me up. I mean it almost killed me. It makes me furious just to think about it. My doctor said that he’d back me up if I sued, but I’m not the suing kind. I will just work out my anger in prayer and therapy, sin confession and continuing my ever quest for a contrition before all mankind. But still…

Anyway, I have been preparing for this years poetry contest with the FPS, and been writing some great poetry (if I say so myself). I’ve been working on a Sonnet and limerick this past weekend. I forgot how much I enjoy writing Sonnet. It is no wonder that Keats excelled in Sonnet (both Italian and Elizabethan). However, being the master that he was, he could do these things in just minutes. For signing up for my “The American Poetry Review” I got a free copy of “64 Sonnets of John Keats” or something like that. I already had a Keats book, but this one was way cool. Anyway, my rhythm is slightly off on my Sonnet, and I’m trying to fix it today. What I mean is that, using Iambic Pentameter, which is five feet, or five “beats” a line, and some of my lines run half a beat behind. Look at the rhythm of Iambic Pentameter – duh DUH duh DUH duh DUH duh DUH duh DUH. Well, half of my lines are short that last DUH; with just 4 and ½ feet. But, it really works as far as what the lines say, and the need is to find one extra syllable to make different. Look here, this is what I mean:

Line #3 – Ye align thyself with him whose plot = 4½ feet
Line #4 – Is to ruin the gift of the one above = 5½
Line #14 – Be wise and pray ‘here not to his deceit. = 5

Of course with Sonnet, which can be arguably a 14 or 17 line poem, with the Elizabethan Sonnet, lines 1 and 3 rhyme, lines 2 and 4 rhyme, line 5 and 7 rhyme, line 6 and 8 rhyme, lines 9 and 11 rhyme, lines 10 and 12 rhyme and then lines 13 and 14 rhyme back to back. So the rhyme scheme looks like this ababcdcdefefgg; with the true Iambic Pentameter (five rhythmic beats).

Truthfully, I don’t write a great deal of Sonnet, but I still like it. What I have to do to keep straight is to literally write

a
b
a
b
c
d
c
d

and so forth down the page and use that as a guide. It helps tremendously.

Along with finishing my Jesus and the M16 manuscript (today!), and writing poetry for the contest, I am also working on research on opening a book store here in Flatwoods. I am also looking to see about opening one in Ashland, but one thing at a time. From my research so far, Flatwoods looks like a prime location for this idea. Also, the research that I have done also indicates that used book stores are thriving from online sales. I am interested in a New/Used bookstore, including mag.’s, comics, Children’s, and maybe even text books. It won’t take much money to make this happen, and that is the cool thing. I think we just might be able to manage this whole thing. Hopefully, in the long run, I can make it so that my wife won’t have to work. She manages the house and home so well, but when she works full time like she does, she can’t get everything done (yes, I do help out) that she wants to get done. It is frustrating for her. I would like to change that and make it a smoother area in her life, less stress! Also, I am able to make some income while still on disability. All I have to do is at the end of the year, I report it on my taxes. I have like a year and a half to see if the situation will work out before loosing my SSD. Also, I don’t think that I could run the store, myself, full or even part time. That means that I would have to hire management and staff. But, that would be all worked out in the biz and action plan. I am very much looking forward to this, and I work on it as often as possible. I test myself to see what I am capable of each day, and whether or not I could manage a management team. I am convinced that I am. I am way excited about both projects. If you would like a copy of the manuscript, let me know and I’ll send you one. I may have to charge you for the copy, and the dollar to send it, if I can’t swing it myself, but I’d be glad to do such.

June 6, 2006

2006-06-06T10:10:00.000-05:00

Today has informally been called “Apocalypse Day” because of the date – 06/06/06. Or – 666 – the sign of the beast! Well, on this day, I’ve chosen to share some Haiku of classic Japanese Haiku writer, Basho. Haiku is a classic form of poetry that consists of a three line singular stanza, with the first and third lines consisting of five syllables and the second line having seven syllables. The subject matter is commonly something to do with nature or romance, and it is in present tense; which means that the poem is taking place as you read it. Now, keep in mind that Basho’s poetry in English doesn’t follow the syllable rule because it is translated, and the translator can only do his/her best. I’m going to include three:

Sparrows in eaves,
mice in ceiling –
celestial music.

Ebb tide –
willows
dip to mud.

Nothing more lonely –
heart-shaped
paulownia leaf

Notice the stark simplicity of these poems, yet, they each tell a full on story. It is amazing how effective words can be when harnessed with bit and bridal. What intensity of taking words and not letting them lead you. Make making them submit to your own personal literary courage as you force their grace on the page.

Words can be used for good and evil, like all things; technology, energy, money, etc. Without a fantastic vocabulary, one must face a greater challenge of using limited resources, but those of extended vocabularies must make sure that their arsenal isn’t permitted to reign free.

In that same vein, I envy those who have the usage of two or more languages. I suppose, if properly applied, expression could be limitless. I consistently have difficulty finding the right word for a situation in both my poetry and prose. But the bright side is that as I strive to embrace the new life given to me, I eagerly search and find what ever questions I might have.

Well, I don’t really read into the fact that today is “Apocalypse Day”, because that is just Neo-Christian jib-a-jab. But, I am grateful that I have been given another day to celebrate life!

Books, books, books...

2006-06-04T07:23:00.000-05:00

I mentioned before that in lieu of my dreams to start a bookstore, I would start slow, real slow. My first thought was that I could start buying books at yard sales and such. Friday, my wife and I went to a church sale. They said that the story was that one of their parishioners died, and left behind his mystery book collection. Well, I bought the whole thing. I mean, this guy was serious. As far as I can tell, he has(d) the complete Agatha Christie. She wrote over one hundred books. If I remember right it is closer to two hundred, but that might not be right either.

Anyway, I paid $1.50 a box, and bought 18 boxes, all of it. This gentleman really kept his books in good shape. Carla and I discussed it, and some of the sets will sell on e-bay. And what doesn’t sell on e-bay will go to the book/yard sale. If you want a mystery book pre 2000, I just might have it. It is pretty cool. There are a few more books other than mystery books. There are some reference books that will make a great addition to my own collection. That is one of the bonus’ of book buying, other than the prophet we will be making off of them.

Now I need some romance books. The good news is that the Boyd County Library is selling a used romance paperback collection of 12 books for a $1.00. I can sell them at my yard sale for $.25 each, or 5 for $1.00. That is doubling my money (or near to there). I know that this is a slow start, but you need to start somewhere sometime.

Meanwhile, I’m still working on finishing J&tM16. I’m doing three, maybe four, short shorts for it. They will be sequential in order; meaning that each section will have on of these short shorts, and they will be telling a continuing story. So, perhaps sequential wasn’t the right word, but I’m pretty sure it is. Perhaps you know one better (rsvp)? One of my illustrations is Jesus (or the worldly image of Christ made by artist in the early millennia) holding a 9MM pointing off canvas. In the back ground is the three crosses of Calvary, and the center one is empty with a ladder on it. Do I want to put this on the front cover, or opposite to the “Hate on the Run” IN the book? Obviously with the title and this illustration I want to make an impact first impression, but I also don’t want it to really make many people mad. Is the illustration too much for the cover? Oh, you know what, I just had a new image pop in my head. I am going to go get it out now before it gets away. Till next time!

Dog lick'n the Salt Lick

2006-05-28T11:32:00.000-05:00

So I filled out a request for information thing on the internet about getting an Assoc. in Biz (book store dreams!). A man called me soon after, and we started talking about my aspirations. He was quite helpful and asked if I wanted to start school in June. That was so soon that it took me aback; but I thought, “why wait?” So, online we started filling out the paperwork for registration and financial aid. Within two hours we were done. I was getting quite excited. However, at that time, I still hadn’t had my e-signature PIN. So it had to wait till this coming Tuesday. Meanwhile, I decided to ask.com Axia College at the University of Phoenix. There were some warnings on some websites concerning this program. So I decided to seek some advice from some of my closest friends, and decide that this wasn’t in my best interest at this time to pursue this program. I should have known; one of the web pages, where you log on, had a warning on it that flashed saying it was a online telemarketing scam. I asked the guy why that was on there, and he said he had no idea and immediately changed the subject. Anyway, I have decided not to go for it. Frankly, to finish a degree would be great, but not necessary to accomplish what I want for my future. Besides, I am so heavily medicated that I don’t really know if I am ready for school. So, I am going to have to let Edwin (my “counselor”) know the bad news today.

I am not going to be ready for “Jesus and the M16” by the end of the month. I am going to give myself an extension (trying not to make that a habit!) of another month. The more I put into it, the more I want to put into it. I really want it to be the best, highest quality book that I can. It started off as a collection of poetry, but it has grown to something more, and I like it, and I’m not bored of it (a miracle within itself). I’ve cleaned up my drawing desk and drawing area, and now I have a nice little creative area in which I can create. My computer here, and a few feet over, my drafting table (art table). I have two full book cases (almost) in this room, and my wife stores all the ebay things in here too.

We’ve been talking about maybe picking up some books at a local library sale, and garage sale, and instead of having a yard sale, we could have a book sale. Perhaps starting off like this will eventually work into a book store. Who knows?

I’ll have to admit, that right now, my poetry juices are pretty deleted, but not my creative juices. I am going to work some magic with the manuscript and see what happens. If I had a program like QuarkXPress, then I could really go to town, but as it stands, I have to do it all in Word. That’s not bad though, because if you play with Word, you can learn a great deal as to what it is capable of; much more than what one would think.

And now, I leave you with this poem:

Salt Lick

Dog lick’n a salt lick
Mud running woman
run race pace to ‘git the mail
paved road slippery when wet
car passing a man in a hat

Dog lick’n a salt lick
Horses hay there or here
watching cars go by
big black Rottweiler catching my eye
neighbor one more and the
Dog is lick’n the salt lick

Blue with corrosion and wheels sitting
in the back of the
barn side to side with a magnificent
display of rusted metal in the shape
of a tractor. Then turn just a
little, and that dang dog is lick’n the
Salt Lick

Brown vrs. Forster

2006-05-22T13:36:00.000-05:00

Last week I finished The Di Vinci Code, and this week, I started “Howards End” by E. M. Forster. My best friend told me that my taste in literature is more sophisticated than his. At the time I felt encouraged and edified. But, then I started realizing that it really isn’t a matter of sophistication, but a matter of having a deep desire to be well read.

Regardless, it hasn’t been an easy thing to do. Some of these writings from years, decades, and centuries ago are quite dry and slow going. It is a hard transition from Dan Brown to Forster. The pace of this book (Howards End) is completely different (of course). Anyway, I pretty much knew that going in. So I decided to give it a fair shot. I know this sounds like a bit of a negative review so far, but wait…

I read the first chapter, and it took me three nights to finish most of it. The first few nights I fell asleep on the first page. Last night I decided to really force myself to stay awake. And it was worth it.

Howards End is supremely written with a grace and beauty that I haven’t seen since I started my quest of self education. Reading this first chapter was a smooth, ease and brought a beauty in prose form. It seemed to be (much like Pound) poetry in motion, but not as dislocated as Pound. It was fastened together by sanded and level braces holding it highest jointly. I was fascinated, but…

The English are known for their pomposity and etiquettes. I could tell from the first chapter that the tone of the story will involve a great deal of that sort of thing. By the third chapter, Helen, Margaret, and Tibby’s Aunt Julie (Mrs. Munt) had taken charge of the situation pertaining to Helen’s engagement to a less sophisticate (maybe) living in Howards End. The main reason she goes to visit Helen , is because she doesn’t trust Margaret (the oldest of the three sisters) to say and do things that won’t embarrass them (at least seemingly).

It really is a nice read, but I can’t stand the pretension of English etiquette! Pride beyond pride pushing people to live in deceitful relationships covered in pomp. It drives me nuts. I know that much of modern England isn’t quite as bad as it used to be, but still, YIKES it drives me mad.

That being the case, I am feeling motivated to put the book down and start something else. Perhaps I should give it ten chapters instead of two? Perhaps.

Well, the point is that my books came in from the History Book Club. There are several there that I would like to start. (For fun, I start book and music clubs for their introductory offer of such amount of books for a dollar each, plus shipping, and no further buys necessary) Usually you just need to wait out the 90 day probation period, make sure you cancel the pre-selected books online, and then cancel the club. Then I find a new club and do it again. This cost me about $20-$25 each time. I get about that much every month for my allowance anyway. So instead of Taco Bell, I get books and music. It is almost a hobby, but it drives my wife crazy (and we are negotiating this thing now). Sometimes I still get Taco Bell, or the new McDonalds Bold blend (we don't have any coffee shops in flatwoods, so this new coffee thing at Mic-a-dee's was huge). But this thing I do with the book and music clubs is not only leagal, but completely ethical. These clubs advertise that there is no further obligation to buy, so I don't. For a really poor (richer than thrid world and such) person, you got to figure out how to get new things once in a while, or you go crazy(er).

So, I’m ready to start some serious non-fiction. I think I might pick Howards End back up in the fall. I’ll have the patience for it then. In the spring and summer, my attention span in almost everything is shortened.

My illustrations for “Jesus and the M16” are done, so now, it’s just a matter of formatting it. I am really, really trying like crazy to not get political. My point is the abuse of Christianity in the name of politics (left and right both have arguments, and I’m right in between.), and I want to just stick to the point. So, I am first going to let my wife read it, then my best buddy John, then I’ll trim it down, then maybe a few of you could review it before I send it to www.lulu.com. Just let me know!

Reading Is Fundamental

2006-05-18T12:49:00.000-05:00

I put everything on hold last week to read The De Vinci Code. What a great read. Just from sound bytes and such, I went into thinking that my senses would be offended (Proud to love Jesus!); but it is so transparently fiction that it’s underwhelming. The sad thing is that more people READ this book, than they do the bible. Reading is so crucial, and important. I always encourage people who think that they don’t have time to read to repent (not in those words). But there is always time to read. I mean, I you think that you don’t have time to read, then you’re not having any really good solid (as it were) bowel movements. If you have time to poop, then you have time to read. Even a couple of pages a day is better. I am intrigued by this new game for the PSP that they have been advertising concerning your brain age. Part of my motivation to read, do puzzles (fill in’s), and spend time writing my blog is to keep my mind sharp. But even if I weren’t so medicated, I’d still have to prioritize my IQ. Sadly, I did a great deal of mind altering LSD in and out of high school, searching a transcendence which I found out wasn’t obtainable, the hard way. In fact, the quantity of LSD I did (and other things) significantly lowered my IQ, by at least 15 points (regret and self pity inserted here). But, I retain somewhat of some intelligence and reading is a big part of that. So, please, my point is that you must make time to read. NO TIME TO REVISE AND REVEIW, PLEASE FORGIVE GRAMMAR!

A New Direction

2006-05-02T18:23:00.000-05:00

Well, I’ve come to a conclusion about a few things:

1.) I really do have some not so bad poetry. (Which means that I won’t be giving poetry up any time soon, but sort of…)

2.) After this month I am going to completely focus on my graphic novel.

Although I am not giving up poetry, I am going to put aside all of my publishing goals and attempts with my poetry. But, I am also going to spend the rest of May sending stuff in for publication. I am entering about three contests and submitting to two or three different publications. I am going to give it one last heave hoe, then for the next year, June 2006 through June 2007, I am going to create and complete my graphic novel, “The Image”. I think about this project all the time, but put it aside to work on my poetry manuscripts. Well, I am almost done with my third manuscript, and have very little to show for it. I know that I could use some serious direction with my manuscripts (I will have September Blue on Lulu soon), but when it comes to writing poetry, I’m spent. I don’t have anymore to give. Sadly, there is just not enough drama and conflict in my life to produce anything, AT THIS TIME. I’m not necessarily looking for drama, but I’m not avoiding it either. But thankfully, little is going on with my health. Actually, there have been improvements with my kidneys and liver, and everything else is so amazingly stable that it is truly uninspiring. That is good, no, GREAT! But doesn’t make for good, tortured soul poetry (my shtick).

JESUS AND THE M16 is coming on along great, and I’m am feeling good about that project. There are a few illustrations that I need to do, and I need to hop on that. I want to be completely done by the end of this month. I mean done and ready to go to print done. On my off hours from working on my Graphic Image, I will be sending this new manuscript to different publishers to see what can happen, but that is it for poetry interaction.

Kind of. I was elected interim Secretary for the Flatwoods Poetry Society, and leaves me with some additional duties (along with the Newsletter). Being the new Secretary, I am doing a new contact info sheet, and schedule. It’s monotonous work, but I’m almost done. I am taking a completely new approach to it, and I don’t know if the long term members will like it. But, basically, I am doing it the way that keeps me interested, so, it’ll have to do.

I have a new poem for the new project, but I’m saving it for submissions for other magazines and such.

Well, like I said, not a lot going on.

Expression...

2006-04-11T14:34:00.000-05:00

Well, it is the eleventh of April, and I still haven’t finished Joyce’s “Portrait of an Artist as a Young Man.” It is a particularly strange read. It is almost as if Joyce is recalling his own past with wandering thoughts going this way or that. I like it, but it’s weird. Either Joyce is pure, untainted genius, and his work is opening my mind like a can opener, or he was extremely stupid and couldn’t write at all. Well, since I am new to Joyce, I will assume that he is pure genius. I find it fascinating that he writes prose, in strangely poetic dialogue. He doesn’t write this book in verse, but it reads like poetry. Poetry will use few powerful words to express the poet’s thoughts and messages; and James Joyce writes this book with powerful words like poetry, but it is in prose. It is fascinating and it makes me realize how much farther I have to grow in my own craft and skill. Being mostly self taught, I realize that I can only go so far. I can read commentaries, but from the ones that I have checked out from the library and taken home to read, they are usually somewhat self serving for the author as to express what genius they have in this particular area. I mean, the writing of Joyce is easer to understand than the commentary. Much of what I read is way over intellectualized by these collegiate miracle writers that have deep, deep understandings of these writings that without explanation, none of us ignorant duefuses (sp?) will ever understand. How incredibly gracious of them. Seriously, I think it is just arrogant to write over somebody’s head in order to explain writing that wasn’t over somebody’s head.

I have also been reading some T. S. Elliot. I really like Elliot. I know that he had some anti-Semitic things to say in his life, but his work is amazing. I can see how this school of poetry came about and nourished itself. I envy these poets who all moved to London and fed off of each others creativity. Pound, Elliot, Doolittle, Williams, and more, have all influenced each other in terrific ways. I envy that creative camaraderie. There are several poets here in Flatwoods that I feel are in the same vein of my own school of thinking. One of which is Loretta Craig. She was just appointed the 2006 Poet Ambassador Award and is a published working author who also writes poetry. She can be found here - http://www.lorettacraig.com/ - . Another one is Margie Fletcher. I have read a small amount of her work. It is filled with passion, faith, and extreme self expression. There is another poet who I have mentioned here before, Ace Boggess. I have read a small amount of his poetry, but I really like it. I would like to start some sort of guild to unify our poetry in its own school of thought and intellectual exchanges and idea’s. But I think that I will need to first start to establish myself a bit more.

I completely lag in my willingness to get my chapbooks published. I am never quite happy with them. I think some of my poetry will hurt some people’s feelings, and that is difficult for me. I think that poetry demands truth and truth of expression, as does the bible, but, the bible says to tell the truth in LOVE. So, in my ever pursuit to be a man of God first, poet second, I need to take this in consideration. I feel that there is so much honesty in my work, and I like that a great deal. I rarely mix words, and if I do, it is usually to make the point even stronger. Anyway, I envy the influence that the greats had on each other, and wish to be a part of something similar; and moving to London is not really in the play book at this time. But I digress; I need to make the decision to just put out my chapbooks (two of three of them are completely in manuscript form) and make it happen. I have entered them into contest, but won nothing. I think I let that distract me. BUT the only way I am going to make an impact with my poetry, is to get it out there.

The 2006 Flatwoods Poetry & Art Festival is coming in a week and a half. I am very excited. We still have some work to do, but with great confidence I say that we will be ready. I’m excited to hear all the local talent read or perform their poetry. It will truly be great. If you are in the area, please stop by. I’ll be reading in the afternoon sometime, and it would be a great chance to hear much of my poetry, which most of hasn’t even seen the light of day. I don’t know how much of Jesus and the M16 I can read. Most of the area has drastically opposing views of things than mine. But, we’ll see, I mean it will come out sometime. This might just be as good a time as any. I am willing to hear any advice any of you have for me.

Well, I just wanted to sat a few things and catch up with you all. Till next time…

Sad News and an Update

2006-03-25T11:25:00.000-05:00

It is with great sorrow that I report the death of one of my poetry/writing mentors. Betty J. Sparks, author of “Poets Laureate of Kentucky” and many times officer of the Kentucky State Poetry Society and our own Flatwoods Poetry Society passed away this past March 16th. In the short time that I knew her, she made a great impact on me. She was the one to train me and pass on to me the Monthly Newsletter of our Society, as well as give great input and editorial advice on my work. She had a deep care and concern for the posterity of our own organization, as well as the state organization, and poetry itself.

It has taken me some time to write this, for I was out of words for many days. Personally, this was a really hard loss. I loved Betty, and was very fond of her. Her children are about my age (slightly older) and their children slightly older than mine. She had a way of caring for you, which just made your heart gravitate towards her. She could be about business, or about laughs, and you still wanted to be in the same room as her. I will miss you Betty, very much.

I have been also trying to work on my craft as a poet. I am excited to also report that Ace Boggess of Huntington West Virginia (author and editor of several books, and published hundreds of times in numerous journals) has offered to give some advice and direction on helping me get published. This is extremely encouraging to me. I sent him five poems (as per his request) and eagerly await a response. It has been almost a month, but I understand that this man is extremely busy. He is about my age (a little younger) but I have tremendous respect for him for accomplishing so much in the time he has had in this lifetime. In part, I perhaps even envy. This is not to say that I regret the path I choose when I pursued a family instead of school, but what I admire most about him, is that he has known what he wanted for some time. It took a multiple life threatening experience to help me realize that I am a poet, and have always been one.

In truth, as I continue to write poetry, and explore the world around me as I see it, I realize who I am more and more. I think that the sense of self is what I have been missing most of my life. That is probably why I have let my weight, health, and personal career paths go unattended for my short, but very long, thirty-seven years. Now that I have a sense of self, I have been able to take charge of the direction of my life, and this includes my writing.

I am coming to the conclusion that the harder I work to be a “writer”, the worse I am at it. This is due to several things. One, it is said that poets make poor writers, for whatever reason (I know that this is not the case every time, but it seems to be the predominant theory.). Two, I have not been trained as a writer. I excelled in English classes in my general education until the tenth grade when I started my short lived past of substance abuse. Then, in college, I studied literature and poetry, as well as communications and psychology. It came reasonably natural to me then, and even now as I continue to be self taught, the study of poetry comes naturally. But being a writer? That’s a different story. I have read many books on how to be a writer, and have written short stories to exercise those muscles, but in truth, I think I just don’t have the mental constitution to write fiction, nor nonfiction.

I know part of that is the extensive medication I take to remain sane and pain free. But that is a price that I am willing to pay. I have made the decision that I would rather be a decent father and husband, than what I am naturally (after extensive exposure to morphine). Some of my best work came before the medication, and even now it is hard to concentrate, but I have decided that my family is more important.

Some might say that it is a compromise to my art to do such a thing. Well, perhaps it is, but I remain in perspective that art comes second to the nobility of fatherhood and righteous husbandry. If it hasn’t been detected yet, it is noteworthy to say that there is a conflict inside of me concerning this issue. But what would a great poet be without inner conflict and turmoil?

But I digress. Being a writer, although coming natural to some, is nothing more than extremely hard work. I do have a decent work ethic, but rarely the patience to rewrite paragraph after paragraph of what my original work is. Sometimes it really needs it, and even now I know that I need to rewrite each short story I have ever written. I know that rewriting is essential to being a writer, and that is where I can’t cut it (although that’s a load of bull, because I know that I can do anything I set my mind to). I hate to kill, disregard, or erase my own creation. Although I define this as a necessary evil, I still hate to do it.

For some reason, I see this differently than reworking a poem. Although I generally like most of the first drafts of the poems I write, I have no trouble making changes. But truthfully, for me to commit words to a page, it has been thoroughly processed in my mind. It is not uncommon for me to have several projects going on in my mind at one time, and through that, I have great difficulty getting just the one out. Perhaps that is why it is so hard for me to write prose.

Regardless of this enigma, I continue to work on my “Jesus and the M16” project. I think that I am going to do a small twenty plus page chapbook with illustrations and short essays, as well as the poetry. Some of my illustrations will seem blasphemous to some, but I reject the western/European image of Jesus that has developed over the past 1700 years as to what the image of Christ is like. The image of Christ is described in Isaiah 53, and it reports, “For he grew up before him like a young plant, and like a root out of dry ground; he had no form or majesty that we should look at him, and no beauty that we should desire him.” So, I will be using the “world’s” image of Christ, to display the abuse and hypocrisy used by many of the worlds religious to justify their own agendas in a satirist way. This also goes for much of my poetry. Look at one of the more upholding poems in my collection:

Hate On the Run

There He stands
Pow, Pow, Pow
On the front line
Pow, Pow, Pow
Jesus in camo’s
Pow, Pow, Pow
M16 divine
Pow, Pow, Pow

Terrorist, Terrorist
Rat-a-tat-tat
Collateral Damage
Rat-a-tat-tat
“War is Hell”
Rat-a-tat-tat
Big fish, little fish
Rat-a-tat-tat

Jesus co-pilot
Boom, Boom, Boom
Dropping the bomb
Boom, Boom, Boom
Turn the other cheek?
Boom, Boom, Boom
Not this week!
Boom, Boom, Boom

Can you see Him?
Rat-a-tat-tat
Holding that gun?
Rat-a-tat-tat
Shooting women and children?
Rat-a-tat-tat
With hate on the run?
Rat-a-tat-tat

The images that are being portrayed here are not truthful images of Christ. But yet, there are many conservative “Christians” who are willing to justify this war in Iraq (much less any war) through their ‘faith’ and the abuse of scripture. I am no less deserving to stand before the judgment seat than anybody else, and before God, a wretched sinner undeserving of mercy (but yet through Christ, attainable), but I am observant enough, and literate enough to understand what “Turn the other cheek” means.

Enough preaching; but in truth, this is what my entire next project is about. This week, as we continue to plan and organize the Flatwoods Poetry and Art Festival (April 22, in the Flatwoods city park), I will also be arranging my manuscript for this project.

That’s the latest update, and I’ll be back sooner than later, check in soon!

New Poems!

2006-03-12T15:26:00.000-05:00

I Celebrate Education

I celebrate education
and dwell in inspiration
and envy for those
and their exaltation
to live in the higher
understanding and elevated
knowledge of knowledge
would be to walk among
Kings and Queens, and
princes and princesses, and
gods and goddesses as Id
hovers over the cattle in
their 20 hours of TV
a week and dronish
minds that can’t see the
world through scholarly eyes
and collegiate pomp and
confidence. Far are they
from the emotional arrogance
that accompanies stupidity
and ignorance, far are the
enlightened from steered
and easily manipulated uneducated,
folks to their own
detriment relegate higher
learning to the contrite.

Legacy of Love

God doesn’t need me to defend his
stand point on these matters. No, no –
non violence Jesus style is right
there in the bible for anybody to
read any time they want. It’s not hard, it
is all in the first 7 chapters of the first
gospel. Moreover, it’s almost as if
it is TOO easy to do. HIS words
are spelled out in English for the
modern person in our culture. God
has given us this resource for some time
and it has no reason for me to defend it.
But for some reason, people refuse
to indulge their own Creator, the
giver of their own breath, in a little
thing called Love. How can we love
someone, regardless of their whatever
they may think, which is exactly what
God does (I mean when was the last time
you looked in the mirror?) then how
can we look for potential enemies, seek
them out and kill them? It is hard to
do both. Wars, riots, bombings, suicide
bombers and grenade pullers, racial
hatred, religious persecutions and
“honor” killings are all exactly what
Hatred loves. Perhaps it will just take
a few mouthy people who understand
our place in this vast galactic post
of ours to open up and share. I think
that if I am to leave a legacy, it would
be a legacy of love, much like (in some
small way) God.

Man O Will

Man O man, so much to say.
Man O God, wants to preach all day.
Man O Will, will if he has his way!

That's enough for today. Peace!

Pound, Browning, and me?

2006-02-27T13:11:00.000-05:00

It has been a great month reading poetry. I have read many of the greats, and right now I’m reading selected works from two of the Greatest. Ezra Pound is exceptionally interesting (as he should be), but it is way over my head. Robert Browning on the other hand seems to sing to me. I’ll be giving examples of each; therefore covieing some of what I have been experiencing this month.

Ezra Pound, an American who spent some serious time in Europe, mainly London, and was greatly influenced by some of his contemporaries, but more so, influnced many more himself. A few of whom he influenced was H. D. (Hilda Doolittle), and William Carlos Williams. I’ve read some William Carlos Williams, but very little H.D.

The book that I selected to buy, concerning the poetry of Ezra Pound, is Selected Poems of Ezra Pound (in its fourteenth printing by A New Directions Publishing). The first poem that Mr. Pound chose to place in his book was CINO Italian Campagna 1309, the open road. Here it is:

CINOItalian Campagna 1309, the open road

Bah! I have sung women in three cities,
But it is all the same;
And I will sing of the sun.

Lips, words, and you snare them,
Dreams, words, and they are as jewels,
Strange spells of old deity,
Ravens, nights, allurement:
And they are not;
Having become the souls of song.

Eyes, dreams, lips and the night goes.
Being upon the road once more,
They are not.
Forgetful in their towers of our tuneing
Once for wind-runeing
They dream us-toward and
Sighing, say, “Would Cino,
Passionate Cino, of the wrinkling eyes,
Gay Cino, of quick laughter,
Cino, of the dare, the jibe.
Frail Cino, strongest of his tribe
That tramp old ways beneath the sun-light,
Would Cino of the Luth were here!”

Once, twice, a year-
Vaguely thus word they:
“Cino?” “Oh, eh, Cino Polnesi
The singer is’t you mean?”

“Ah yes, passed once our way,
A saucy fellow, but …
(oh they are all one these vagabonds),
Peste! ‘tis his own songs?
But you, My Lord, how with your city?”

But you “My Lord,” God’s pity!
And all I knew were out, My Lord, you
Were Lack-land Cino, e’en as I am,
O Sinistro.

I have sung women in thee cities.
But it is all one, I will sing of the sun.

“ ‘Poll Phoibee, old tin pan, you
Glory to Zeus’ aegis-day,
Shield o’ steel-blue, th’ heaven o’er us
Hath for boss thy luster gay!

‘Pollo Phoibee, to our way-fare
Make thy laugh our wander-lied;
Bid thy ‘fulgence bear away care.
Cloud and rain-tears pass they fleet!

Seeking e’er the new-laid rast-way
To the gardens of the sun …
. . . . . .
I have sung women in three cities
But it is all one.

I will sing of the white birds
In the blue waters of heaven,
The clouds that are spray to its sea.”

This poem is not included under my copyright!

Needless to say, spell check had a field day with that one. So I look at this poem and I think to myself, “Huh?” I mean, I really don’t get it. I thought that even by writing it down I might get some insight into it. As much as my poetry might say regarding the pedestal that the educated poet stands on, it is times like these that that I envy them. I understand that this is talking about an event, but without the knowledge of Italian history, I am clueless. Mr. Pound has quite a few poems in this collection that I just can’t understand.

This is not anything new. I’ve been accused of having the same thing happen to my poetry as well. Here is something I wrote in 2001, while recovering from the great tragic challenge of 2000:

Waiting Room for the Deceived

Just a slight lift
Caught unaware
Only arrival on video
Departure blacked out
Charcoal dust basting
The ceiling sky
Pooling on no granulated tile
Exchanging cordialities with
The black horizon
Waiting with similar discontent
Masked reflection disguising
No true heart
Time in a pocket lost in transit
Honesty and truth waiting for
Their introduction
The faces seen here are pylons of
Names and lives misdirected
Landmark storms of memories mislead
The switch was out of reach
GE is of no avail
Edison walks here too
Tuxedoed in futility
Waiting, waiting for the
Bright exposure of purity
Unbeknownst
Waiting…

I had a fellow poet tell me that she completely understood this poem, and could relate, and said that she has had known many people like that. I had no idea what she was talking about. This poem was a psychological release that was much needed due to the lack of therapy. It was a description of the hallucinogenic world I lived in during my 17 week induced coma, induced by morphine and Adivan. She obviously was reading something into it. But that is okay by me! But with CINO, I can’t even read anything into it (not that I’m anywhere close to Ezra Pound, although my ego would like to say so, obviously haven’t read much Pound.)

But there is some Pound that I can read and like. The Seafarer and The Return are two such examples. I must admit that this collection of selected poems is my first real exposure to Pound; other than what I have forgotten from my freshman year in college. My first impression is one that I am confident that Mr. Pound wanted me to have, due to the fact that he picked this particular poem himself. Mr. Pound was probably not writing for me as an audience either. I can only assume that he may have been writing for an Italian audience. It is hard to say. I know that has writ his own biography in the first page of this collection, and it makes apologetics as to why he spent time in Italy during WWII. Basically he was defending the American Constitution on Italian radio; interesting.

The other collection of poetry that I am reading at this time is Robert Browning, Selected Works (edited by Johanna Brownwell, published by Castle Books). First off, I’d like to ad that this is the hard bound version of this book, and I got a really GREAT price on it at Empire Books & News, 30 Pullman Square, Hunting, WV 25701. I like this book store, and hope to one day own one just like it in our own small town here in Kentucky.

But I digress. I have just started reading this collection several days ago, and am enjoying it. I have read very much of his wife’s (Elizabeth Barrett Browning) work, and love what she has to say, and her poetic voice. But, with him, I have read very little. He writes much different than his wife, and I don’t know why I should expect it to be different. Since I have started reading Mr. Browning, I have developed a quick intellectual crush.

Here is a poem that I like from Robert Browning:

The Boy and The Angel

MORNING, evening, noon and night,
“Praise God!; sang Theocrite

Then to his poor trade he turned,
Whereby the daily meal was earned.

Hard he laboured, long and well;
O’er his work the boy’s curls fell.

But ever, at each period,
He stopped and sang, “Praise God!”

Then back again his curls he threw,
And cheerful turned to work anew.

Said Blaise, the listening monk, “Well done’
I doubt not thou are heard, my son:

As well as if thy voice to-day
Were praising God, the Pope’s great way.

The Ester Day, the Pope at Rome
Praises God from Peter’s dome.”

Said Theocrite, “Would God that I
Might praise him, that great way, and die!”

Night passed, day shone,
And Theocrite was gone.

With God a day endures always,
A thousand years are but a day.

God said in heaven, “Nor day nor night
Now brings the voice of my delight.”

Then Gabriel, like a rainbow’s birth,
Spread his wings and sank to earth;

Entered, in flesh, the empty cell,
Lived there, and played the craftsman well;

And morning, evening, noon and night,
Praised God in place of Theocrite.

And from a boy, to youth he grew:
The man put off the stripling’s hue:

The man matured and fell away
Into the season of decay:

And ever o’er the trade he bent,
And ever lived on earth content.

(He did God’s will; to him all one
If on earth or in the sun.)

God said, “A praise is in mine ear;
There is no doubt in it, no fear:

So sing old worlds, and so
New worlds that from mhy footstool go.

Clearer loves sound other way:
I miss my little human praise.”

Then forth sprang Gabriel’s wings, off fell
The flesh disguise, remained the cell.

‘T was Easter Day: he flew to Rome,
And paused above Saint Peter’s dome.

In the tiring-room close by
The great outer gallery,

With his holy vestments dight,
Stood the new Pope, Theocrite:

And all his past career
Came back upon him clear,

Since when a boy, he plied his trade,
Till on his life the sickness weighed;

And in his cell, when death drew near,
An angel in a dream brought cheer:

And rising from the sickness drear
He grew a priest, and now stood here.

To the East with praise he turned,
And on his sight the angel burned.

“I bore thee from thy craftsman’s cell
And set thee here: I did not well.

Vainly I left my angel-sphere,
Vain was thy dream of many a year.

Thy voice’s praise seemed weak; it dropped –
Creation’s chorus stopped!

Go back to praise again
The early way, while I remain.

“With that weak voice of our disdain,
Take up creation’s pausing strain.

Back to the cell and poor employ:
Resume the craftsman and the boy!”

Theocrite grew old at home;
A new Pope dwelt in Peter’s dome.

One vanished as the other died:
They sought God side by side.

This poem is not included under my copyright!

This poem not only spiritually inspires me (regardless of the fact that I’m not Catholic), it is easy for me to grip onto and feel in my soul. The concept of loosing that original love for God as we get older, and then getting back to that, it inspires my own relationship with God. I think back of my younger years as a Christian and how zealous I was for Prayer and bible study.

This poem tells a great story. It conveys a one man’s journey in the most important aspect of life, God. I don’t know all the facts about Angelic possession, but it still makes for a great poem. It is powerful, and explanative. Almost anybody can read it and understand what it is saying.

Now, that being said, there are also some Robert Browning poems that make me shake my head in deep question; like Andrea Del Sarto. It looses me a little.

I am enjoying my own venture of reading and discovering poetry. Although I’m in my late thirties, I still feel like a student. One of my going theories in poetry in general, is that in order to deeply discover you, is to discover the masters. It opens up a whole new universe of potential. In order to be great, you must surround yourself in greatness. As I personally read, and read, and read, I continue to grow.

I am at the point in my journey that I read my poetry of five years ago, and see my growth. I also see subtle changes in my passion. I see how my emotional, mental, an physical modifying pharmaceuticals have altered some of my passion. But that is a curse that I have to live with. It’s a life choice and it’s one that I choose to make. I’m sure that one day I will return to the “crazy” days, but not soon, Lord willing.

I look forward to the rest of the month as I expose myself further to the greats. What I have left is T. S. Elliot, D. H. Lawrence, Joyce, and Basho. My month is almost up, so my month of poetry reading will have to continue another month. It will probably be April (National Poetry Month according to the American Academy of Poetry) before that happens. I’m craving non-fiction, so I’m sure I’ll find some soon.

Ready to Read!

2006-01-30T14:04:00.000-05:00

I started this year with the completion of reading Beowulf. Then I went straight into the Hobbit. I had never read the Hobbit, although I had read The Lord of The Rings. The Hobbit was such a joy to read, that you really can’t put the deep tension and anxiety of reading TLOTR. I literally had fun reading the Hobbit. Wow, what a great read. I like Bilbo better than Frodo; although Bilbo didn’t face what Frodo faced. But Smaug was no little thing to contend with either. Anyway, I highly recommend the Hobbit to anyone.

By reading these two books back to back, it is easy to see where the movie “The Thirteenth Warrior” came from. It is an amalgam of these two books, no question. I, as a writer, was completely inspired; which leads me to this next coming month. I am going to read nothing but poetry (maybe a little magazine action, Writers Digest, Poet & Writers, etc.). I am going to read and absorb. I am going to let myself be a sponge.

Poe, Keats, Yeats, Longfellow, Edna St. Vincent Millay, Thomas Hardy, Vachel Lindsay, Frost, William Carlos Williams, Robert Browning, E.B. Browning, Dickenson, plus various contemporary poets from West Virginia and Kentucky are all I am going to be reading. I would like to read some more contemporary poets, and my subscription to The American Poetry Review, The Three Penny Review, and Pegasus will help in those areas.

As of this post, I am tired of Rhyme. Some poets are quiet good at it, but I have been reading some local stuff and it seems that by making things rhyme, it’s a poem; which makes them a poet. Yikes, that is so not true. There is a minor form of poet called Rhymster. This is what is going on in this local area more so. But the point that anybody would like to express themselves through the written word is fabulous, and I support it completely. I just don’t want to read any anymore. I yearn to be surprised and highly impacted by a poet. To me, this is a rare occurrence. I have a book about the early writings of William Carlos Williams and HE has surprised me. I haven’t read much of his later in life poetry, but these writings of his young self are inspirational.

I have a tendency of wanting to know a poets biography before reading their poetry. Sometimes that brings quiet a bit of perspective to the poem, which makes it easier to understand. Truthfully, much of what I read I just don’t get. Someday I would like to take a poetry class on reading poetry. I did take Poetry 102 in college, but that was years ago, during my drunk chapter of my life. If you haven’t yet, go to the Pen Master link here on this site and check out my last report on a Persian Poet named Forough Farokhzad. Fascinating Person. If you are reading this on The Pen Master, then ignore what I just wrote.

Regardless, it’s poetry reading month in February. Also, my bestest buddy made the decision to draw an hour everyday, no matter what. I am also going to support him by doing the same. I used to draw and paint quiet often in my past, and have let that slip quiet a bit. I want to bring that skill back. In my heyday, I was somewhat of a decent illustrator, and I would like to not only get that back, but to improve on my abilities. So, in that spirit, I am going to end this blog, and sit down with a sketch book and go to town.

A New Poem and Small Article Review

2006-01-28T13:25:00.000-05:00

I have completely recovered from having that creative block. Since the last time I posted, I have been laid up in bed from an extremely painful hip socket issue. It turns out that I have a ruptured disc in my lower spine, and that is what is causing my pain. Anyway, while in bed, I have been writing like a mad man. In fact, this month alone I have written 15 new poems that I am happy with. It has been great!

I have a subscription to American Poetry Review, and this most recent issue has an article about a Persian female poet that was pretty hot stuff in her day. Her name was Forough Farokhzad, and she was a liberal feminist in Iran during the sixties. At that time, Iran had a secular government, but was still somewhat conservative. The article is written, and the poems are translated by Meetra A. Sofia.

Forough lead a fascinating, and somewhat tragically short life. At the age of 32, she was cut down by a taxi cab in Tehran, right out of the movie studio in which she worked. She sold over a million copies of her poetry, which was a tremendous accomplishment in a male oriented culture. By this time she has become an Icon in Persian culture.

I think of what is going on now in Iran, and what would Forough have thought with this new president. Well, her poetry speaks for itself. It is fascinating. I won’t post any here because I have great respect for copyrighting. But you could see some if you go here - http://www.aprweb.org/issues/current/farokhzad.html. Her poetry really rings a bell with me. Some of it makes me uncomfortable, but really, I think that would be a response that any poet would like to have. It is solid to know that your poetry has an affect on its readers.

Here is a new poem:

Rage Against the Machine

Rage comes to me, back
Against the wall. 30,000 plus died so
The big wig can support the
Machine and its mission

The Man must make the
Machine happy and alive, it
Is hungry for satisfaction in
War and its evils and crimes

War births cannibalism of the soul, which
Is death for the spirit and
Our potential to love and leave a
Legacy of life over death

Our ancestors and our children leave their
Legacy and see ours. To look at the past
Is to look to the future. We must avoid
Destruction and take it upon ourselves for Peace

Finding My Focus

2005-12-28T05:16:00.000-05:00

For some reason I am just stuck! I have the passion, but not the focus to bring it home (or on paper). There are several subjects in which I wish to write some poetry, but I am having a heck of a time getting it out. I am having a heck of a time getting my thoughts straight. Part of it, I’m sure, is that my eight year old is home on holiday break, and that requires much of my attention. But there is more to it than that, I think. The good news is that I see my shrink this coming Monday, and that should help me get my thoughts straight; get my focus back. I also need to be reading on the topics in which I wish to write; also very important.

I think part of the problem is that I tend to want to keep some of my poetry secular, and I’m not a secular person. Most of what I am, and who I am is a person of God. I have this conflict, even with this blog in not wanting to be preachy or mega-religious (big turn off), so I hold back in what I am trying to say. But I have to break through and just be who I am; it is crucial to my creative edge.

You see, the topic I desire to write about is the hypocrisy of the religious right, and the failings of the liberal left, all in a Christian POV. Does that sound too complicated. I am infuriated with men and women who claim to be Christians advocating hate and violence. It’s an oxymoron. A Christian who supports war, as I read the bible, is not in touch with the Jesus I know. I tire of fellows who justify war by misusing scripture, and I feel extremely compelled to write about it. So, that WILL be the target of my next collection of poetry. I title it “Jesus and an M16”. I think that the title speaks for itself.

My next entry will be the ‘I hate television’ poem.

Television Kills Inspiration, news at 11

2005-12-21T15:53:00.000-05:00

Well, I guess by now you can tell that I am feeling some things. This is an interesting time of the year to a creative person. Some will be filled with warm thoughts and pleasant memories, and it’ll come out on the paper. Others are tormented this time of year, and it will come out on the paper. Then, there are those who are half way between both, and inspired by neither. That would be me! I am feeling some things over this holiday about world peace, brotherly love, and the world community, but I am having a hard time getting it out. I think that during this time of year I shut down some emoticons  and have a hard time getting in touch. The good news is that I have so much more on my emotional plate than just the holidays, that I can still spew out a poem of some worth; probably nothing I’ll like in the long run. But for the most part, I’m a dry slate.

I also think that one thing, no, I know that one thing that kills my ability to create poetry is the television. I am starting to hate television with a passion, but yet, for some reason I can’t seem to stop watching it. I think that my mind has become so conditioned that it likes to be lazy, and just sit there and do nothing, just receiving the emotional responses that TV creates. It is like free stirrings for the mind, with no effort. It takes all of my emotions – my emotions is what creates most of my poetry – and grinds them to a small pebble. Even talking about it makes me angry. Hey wait, that’s an emotion! I think I am going to go and write about how much I hate television!

New Poem

2005-12-15T15:08:00.000-05:00

The State of Man

Love me,
I love you!

Hate me,
I hate you!

Ignore me,
I ignore you!

Get in my way,
and you’re dead!

Update

2005-11-30T17:42:00.000-05:00

It’s been almost a month since I’ve posted here. There are many reasons for this, but I’m back now.

I wait in anticipation for the results of the The American Poetry Review /Honickman First Book Prize in Poetry. I have a sneaking suspicion that I will do rather well on this contest. I’ll tell you why after I win. But I wanted to give an update on my projects.

My lifetime friend and brother, JohnE (here at http://www.edingfield.blogspot.com/) is an illustrator. He initiated doing a project together. We threw a few things around, and he left it up to me. I choose to complete my graphic novel project. It is titled The Image. It is a great story and his illustrations will be extremely complimentary to the script. He is one of the best cartoonists that I have ever seen.

If you are not familiar with what a Graphic Novel is, I’ll explain. It is a novel, which is scripted and illustrated comic book style. This may seem easy to you, but it’s not. You have to take a story and turn it into a panel by panel script. Where in a novel you would use description and setting, in a graphic novel you have to think visually. The artwork should tell the basic story without the use of words, and it’s the writer who tells the artist what to draw. It is a complete team effort. Not only does the artist do the layouts as directed by the script, they also do all the coloring, inking, and the word bubbles. However, there are computer programs that can accommodate much of that. JohnE is talking about doing some water colors and mixed media, so I’m very excited about it. It will be a quality project that should become a must buy for many.

We are looking at self-publishing at www.lulu.com. It is going to be great. I’ll let you know about the progress. I’ve started the script and have a real good sense about the story, but I don’t have the story complete. I am currently writing out a full synopsis, then I will finish the script. I am quite confident that as the story takes place with JohnE’s illustrations, the story will be altered.

I am also always writing poetry, but in truth, I haven’t written any in a couple of weeks. I feel that it is mostly because I haven’t taken any time to just think. I usually do quite a bit of contemplation, and use meditation and heavy thought. I am a strong believer that prayer and meditation should be two separate events. Meditation for introspective contemplation and prayer is for praise and petition. I think it best to let meditation come before prayer. Anyway, I’ve been relatively focused on recovering from my surgery (incisional hernia repair) and not focused a great deal on poetry. I did write some, but nothing finished. Mostly just conceptual thoughts and ideas that need alterations and formatting.

I am also doing some editing for a friend that I know from poetry club. He has written kind of a memoir based on the old tales from the Kentucky hills; it is humorous and entertaining, but full of grammatical errors. I know for me it always takes someone else to read what I have written, a fresh set of eyes, to really make something worth while and error free. I’m about half way through his book at this point. My enthusiasm is starting to slow down, so I need to put more life into my efforts. That might be a reflection of the text also. We’ll see.

American Poetry Review has a couple of really interesting aritlces. I think if I thought that anybody who reads this is also reading APR, then I’d discuss them, but yet I have not that faith. However, I highly recommend reading APR if you consider yourself a poet at all. Poetry theory is discussed often, and it is enlightening.

That’s all I have going on at this point. I will be posting more often from this point on, so check back in a couple of days.

Third Place!

2005-10-26T15:27:00.000-05:00

Our local Poetry Society had the Awards Banquet for our annual contest last night. It went well. Our club president played host, and we held the event in the banquet room at a local restaurant. It became abundantly clear that only a handful of people entered into different categories, for only about the same ten people kept winning over and over again. I only entered four categories, and had one winner, so that should teach me a lesson.

Next year will be different. I will enter all of the categories, and then we’ll see what happens! BUT, I am grateful for what I won.

I won third place in the Grand Prix category. The Grand Prix was only open to members, so it was direct competition. It is the top award. Basically, it’s any poem, any style, any length. I was honored to get third place. The competition was stiff.

Listening to the topic of these other poets, it is obvious that my school of thought and most of theirs are on different pages. Kentucky and nature seem to be the general and most popular themes and topics of the club members. The topics of mine are varied, but usually, relatively introspective. That could be because of my age. I’m younger and less mature as many of the other poets, and immaturity and selfishness usually run hand in hand.

I will publish this poem as soon as I submit my new manuscript for this APR book prize. I do this because the poem is in the competing chapbook. It’s the 26th. I pretty much needed to get it off today. Tomorrow will have to do, and just hope for the best!

Rejection!

2005-10-20T16:20:00.000-05:00

Well, it’s October 20, 2005, and I still don’t have my manuscript sent off to all the competitions. Part of the problem with these competitions is that they have a fee to pay in order to compete. It’s usually $25. Well, I think I might be able to squeeze in two, but that’s about it. If I could, I’d send in 10 or more. BUT, I’d have to make all those copies, ship them to their destination, pay the entrance fee, and THEN wait to be rejected. I can take the rejection. I have been nothing but rejected at this point. But that’s okay. I only submitted stuff about 10 times. I mean, I’m just getting started.

Our Awards Banquet for our local Poetry Society is this coming Tuesday. I’m eager to find out if I won anything! I hope to, but the competition is tough. We have some really good poets competing. Only half of the categories can accommodate free verse. The rest are things like Cinquain, Rondeau, Sonnets, and the like. That’s okay by me. I am confident in my ability to make technically perfect bound verse. It’s just that every once in a while, the forced rhyme is REALLY forced; and that’s not good. One can really tell when it’s forced, and I can’t stand it.

What I do for structured poetry, is I write the line, what I want to say, and then work it until it fits. I match it syllable by syllable, foot by foot, and rhyme by rhyme. I love it! I would like to see a surge in classical form. BUT, I don’t think that is going to happen. With rap, and slam, and the popularity of prose poetry right now, I don’t see that happening.

It’s funny. Sometimes I want to make my mark in poetry history, and other times I’m perfectly happy with the local scene. It’s all in the mood. I think that I like the local feel of a working poet, not seeking to be the next Walt Whitman (not that anybody could be the next WW), then other times, I have like this huge ego. I think if I joined a critical writing group, I’d probably get brought down a peg. I sure many, many people would hate what I do. But I think I already new that, because I keep getting rejected.

Oh but to TRY is victory! Submitting, for me, is a victory in itself. I hate being rejected. I’ve always hated it. Who doesn’t? But slowly, my mind set is starting to change. I read somewhere that the more rejections you get, the closer you are to getting published.

Not that I write to get published… I don’t! But a little recognition would be fantastic! I hope to have some new poetry next time I post… We’ll see.

Rhyme or Reason?

2005-10-07T18:23:00.000-05:00

Well, by exploring this web site - http://www.aprweb.org/issues/current/ - I can see that prose poetry is still what is popular. As I said I want to do this book contest; problem is that I have a bunch of rhyme stuff. I enjoy rhyme and think that it should not be extricated in poetry. The methods of the standard types of poetry (Sonnets, Rondeau, Limerick, etc.) require rhyme. I look at what is getting published, and there seems to be a rejection of standard form. It’s curious, for what I can tell is that some people believe that if it rhymes, it is poetry. Others seem to reject rhyme as legitimate modern verse. I like this, “Poets at Work” publication because most of what is in there is traditional rhyme and meter; set form. Yet, I also love to read what is being published in journals like the American Poetry Review. Some of what I read in APR, to me looks like a great deal of aimless pretension rambling on with some hidden purpose, only to be known to the poet. It has an appearance of reason, but yet, it seems like some of it is just crap. NOW, don’t get me wrong! I’m a newcomer to this industry, I don’t have a formal education (so you MUST put little weight in what I say), and all I know is what I have taught myself. I have studied poetry and fiction in college, but that was 15 years ago. Besides, after my illness set in, I haven't retained very much anyway. But I have done a great deal of research on the history of English and American poetry (well, at least some, I think that the volume is a matter of perspective), and so I think I can form some what of an opinion. And that being said, what I see of what is being published, is not so great. I have read some great poetry that has been put out in the past 100, 50, 20, and even 5 years! I mean, life changing. But I also surf the net for poetry, online poetry magazines, and poetry magazines with websites, and read, a lot. I’m just not impressed. I also must tell you that I think 75% of what I have written is crap also. That doesn’t mean I won’t try to get it published. Oh, I will, I assure you. So, it’s not a case of superiority. No, not quite. It just seems that for all of what is out there, there is very little truly SUPERIOR stuff. It also might be unfair of me to even compare one persons work to another, then make a judgment. I mean, I don’t really want to be compared against anybody else. I want to be seen for what I am doing, as a poet in itself.

But, I have something else to say concerning Free Verse. I think that writing in Form, and having it be really good, is hard work. I mean, it takes hard work to write a really compassionate Cinquain, or Sonnet (either English or Italian), or HEXADUAD! It takes time, and effort. It takes a great deal of forethought. I can greater grab my intended expression better in Free Verse, but that is only because I am undisciplined in writing true form. I think it can be easier, or even indulge laziness on the poets part to write only Free Verse, and even defend it as the only reasonable form for the contemporary poet. Don’t get me wrong, I like writing in Free Verse! And at times, I too prefer it. But when I read Shakespeare, or Browning, I get totally inspired. Perhaps I need to read more Emerson, Whitman, and whoever? Maybe I should indulge in their writing, and gain a greater respect for the genius that Free Verse can bring?

And so my search for the literary balance continues. Perhaps as I continue to read, read, and read some more, I will gain greater insight into this vast dilemma that I face.

Book Contest

2005-10-05T09:12:00.000-05:00

Somebody sent me a publication called Poets at Work. It is the September/October issue. This made at home publication is packed with poetry. I mean from cover to cover. In the front cover, the editor says that if you don’t create a venue for people to be published, then writers will give up. From what I can tell, he publishes just about everybody who sends stuff in. You can sponsor contest, add little snippets, and subscribe. I’m almost through the whole issue.

The thing I like about it, is that is has no pretension at all. I mean, I have been sending in poetry to various poetry magazines, reviews, and publications, and have received nothing but rejection. Well, I guess I have been expecting that (because of all the interviews I have read from other poets). So many of these publications are extremely selective, and that is their right. That kind of makes it more cool when you get selected to be printed. But in truth, there is a certain amount of pretension there.

What I am interested in, is the American Poetry Review book contest. The official title is The American Poetry Review /Honickman First Book Prize in Poetry (http://www.aprweb.org/bookprize/bookprize.shtml). If you remember, I was tossing the idea of doing a selected chapbook to sell at the homecoming last August. I am most definitely doing that for this contest. It needs to be 48 pages. That’s not a problem. The problem with Back from Dreamland (yet to be published) is that it is so ready for Self Publishing, which I would have to make serious changes to it in order to enter it into this contest. SO, I am going to dismantle Back from Dreamland, and rearrange some of that poetry, and mix it with some new stuff. It’ll be great. I have till the end the month to get it in, so I should be able to do it.

Do Our Duty

2005-09-19T11:44:00.000-05:00

I reread The Angels Cried, and I don’t really like it. I have to do better. I think that the only way I will achieve what I want to, with poetry in regards to Katrina, it will have to be done in a series of poems, about different subject matter.

I believe honestly that we, as poets, need to capture what this country is going through right now! It is vital to not only express what our people are expressing, but for future generations. I know sometimes we have a hard time finding the right words for the right situation. That’s where poet’s come in. They find the words for you. Also, poetry captures the heart and emotion of any situation. So, for future generations of people, for the history books, newspapers and school text, we must capture this time and keep it ever revealed in the minds of the public. So as poets, let’s serve those hurting in our own special way, and write.

If I had opportunity and health, I’d like to travel down there and find inspiration (plus serve the needy!). What I should do is read more of the USA Today and see if I can’t gain perspective there (I live in a small town, and the papers are very local, quality, but local).

Well, I know that I don’t blog here as much as I’d like, but for the next couple of weeks, I am going to do it even less. I need to focus on my publishing projects, and make some serious progress this month. Check back in the beginning of October or the end of September and I will have something spectacular written.

A New Poem

2005-09-09T15:51:00.000-05:00

Well, here is what I came up with so far, concerning the hurricane situation. I’m not settled with it, and it still needs some work, but here it is!

The Angels Cried

Warning neglect
Choice not chosen
Wrath? Justice?
Queen Terra release
Infinite power displayed
In wind and water
Bowing to no thing
Cast not blame, or divine
Responsibility, although
Motive would be righteous.
Saddened are the host of
Deo and overwhelmed by
The cries of dead children.
One but a thousand souls!
Someday today will be history
Looking back heads shaking
And only memory to feel
The days pain. The day
The angels cried.

Katrina

2005-09-08T23:21:00.000-05:00

In light of current events, I have had some difficulty in coming to words and terms with what has happened not only in New Orleans, but Mississippi also. There are so many considerations when it comes to writing about a situation like this one; the human element, the political element, the heroic element, the tragic element, and what more? For days I have been working on several poems concerning this occasion in our history, and I cannot come to words. I’ve tried to capture my personal reaction. I have tried to capture the suffrage. I have tried to capture the immensity of Natures wrath (or God’s?). I have considered the trespasses of a city like New Orleans and wondered perhaps our Creator had taken a hand. But I have also considered that it was just nature set in order taking its place (but I’m not really a Deist of any measure). But, what of all the helpless, the children, the sick, the elderly, the mentally handicapped, the meek, the humble? What of it? There are so many dead, and also so many more to come. What of the stubborn, who lost their lives due to their own thick headedness? Also, what of all the pet’s that lost their lives? Our pet is so very valuable to us, that she is most certainly one of the family. What of the tragically slow response of our federal government? What of accusations of racial concern. What of the violence, the looting, the murders that have taken place? How does a wordsmith put this into verse? I honestly don’t know. I think I have something I can live with, and I’ll post that tomorrow. But for the most part, I’m lost. As lost as the situation. I have cried for all of those people, and my heart is as heavy as pure gold. My brow is burdened by the sorrow of the souls who scream in contempt of this horrific event. Perhaps, just perhaps, I may yet express what this atrocious affair deserves. But there is one thing that I know, I am not worthy.

Poetaster!

2005-08-28T19:01:00.000-05:00

Well, the other day, I was looking at the Webster’s Encyclopedia of Dictionaries. In the word dictionary I was looking up the word rhyme. If you remember my previous post about rhymers, you’ll remember I was trying to distinguish the difference between some one who can write good rhymes, and a poet. Under Rhyme there is the word “Rhymster.” The definition is: rhymester n. one who makes rhymes; a minor poet; a poetaster. So ah ha! There is such a thing; I just had the wrong word. Ignorance is no excuse, but now I know. Now, what is a poetaster? Using the same dictionary: poetaster (po` it as ter) n. a would be poet; a petty rhymster. I sure love the dictionary. In fact, this Encyclopedia of Dictionaries consist of: a dictionary, crossword puzzle dictionary, book of familiar quotes, scientific terms, synonyms, antonyms and homonyms, a music dictionary, a rhyming dictionary, a legal dictionary, a medical dictionary, an outline of US History, and a Atlas and Gazetteer. Plus the beginning of the book has the US flags, and a 15 color page introduction to space and space travel. Now, don’t get me wrong, this thing is old. The first copyright is 1953, and the last copyright is 1979. But wait till I tell you what I paid for it; $0.10. It was at a library sale. Just the rhyming dictionary alone is worth a couple of dollars! If you hit those library sales at the right time, you can really find some treasures!

A Man Named Bob

2005-08-26T10:14:00.000-05:00

I won this months poetry competition at my local poetry club. The theme was limerick. As you may or may not know, the limerick was named after a small town in either Ireland or Scotland (I can’t recall, but I’ll need to know for the book I am writing right now. I’ll get back to you, unless you know already). Before I became a Christian and person who loves God, I had a number of limericks memorized. But now, I dare not repeat them. But this is the limerick I won with:

There once was a man named Bob,
Who always ate like a slob,
He said with a grin,
While wiping his chin,
“Now all I need is a job!”

Well, I didn’t think that I would get FIRST! The tradition is that everybody who enters reads theirs after the Judging has taken place. The last four people in opposite order is the Honorable Mention, 3rd, 2nd, and 1st. So I was last to read. I think one reason I may have won is because my Iambic meter was spot on for a limerick, and many of the other entrants were far from goal. Occasionally one might go one or two “feet” over, but many of these were barely in form. It may also have been the humor in it, but I doubt it because the second place winner's got out loud laughter (including me), and mine just got a couple of chuckles.

Well, it still felt good to get a high grade among your peers. Actually, most of the club are women in their golden years, all of whom are talented and most of whom are published many times over.

Quandary!

2005-08-22T10:43:00.000-05:00

Quandary. I have a ready to publish poetry manuscript. It contains all of my poetry (some selection was required. Some of my poetry is sheer crap!) from the years 2001 to 2004. It is about 84 pages, and it is already formatted in 5 ½ by 8 ½ inch book format. It’s ready to go. Well, I have about 30 poems (I know, I should have at least 100 by this time, but I just don’t work like that, yet!) that I have written thus far this year, and I really like some of them. We have a “homecoming” event this year that I was planning to set up a table at. You know, free bookmarks, selling my little chapbook. I still have a week to change things, and I was thinking about taking the best 30 or 40 poems from my whole collection and making a small little chapbook just for this fair. You know, select poems and so forth. But it would take many hours for me to put this other chapbook together, and with my health issues, I don’t know if that is possible. As is, we would still need to assemble my current manuscript. My wife says that she can get a binder with supplies very cheap from her old work, and use the laser printer at her current work. That would work real well. It’s just that I am thinking about putting my current manuscript in some contest this fall, and they require an unpublished manuscript. That being said, most times, a manuscript under 50 copies is really not considered “published” by most of these small publishing houses running these contest. As you can see, I am kind of back and forth. I think that I should run a limited edition of a selected verse manuscript just for the fair. That means I have to get back to work. TTFN.

2005-08-15T10:52:00.000-05:00

Well, it just turns out that the Hexaduad sponsored by the writing group I mentioned was for the State competition, and not the local. But I still wanted to share my Hexaduad, so here ‘tis:

Wake up
A Hexaduad

Wake up
Me child
I look at me as child
Filled am I with much fear
Holding blanket over his face
Tremble at every small soft sound
Lay awake at
Night not to sleep
Tremble not small child
For I love you greatly
We will face our
Fears together.

Hexaduads?

2005-08-14T19:51:00.000-05:00

There are “poets” that I know that I would more likely classify as a “Rhymer”. What is a Rhymer you ask? It is somebody that writes metered or un-metered rhymes. For example, rap is rhyming. It even tells a story sometimes. Although technically telling a story to rhyme and rhythm can be considered poetry, I still maintain that there is a difference. To me, poetry is capturing an emotion for all eternity. Whitman talks about poetry written for now, and poetry written for all of time. Of course he advocates poetry written that will last for a thousand years. Why not? Leaves of Grass is genius! Whitman is genius! And his argument in the beginning of Leaves of Grass is what I am referring to. But anyway, rhyming is a skill, and some people can get very good at it. They can talk about a pot of flowers, or a season, or a state, person, etc. But my POV is that you can write a rhyming poem about a pot of flowers, if you are conveying what they stir inside of you. Where does that pot of flowers take you? Perhaps a fond memory of when you and your mother used to plant flowers every spring, and you miss her very much and wish to have that magic again, and your heart longs for the comfort and security in which those times with your mom brought you? That’s a poem. But if it starts “Roses are red…” then it’s a good sign that it is a Rhymer.

Good golly I sound like a literary snob! There is a writing group from a different part of this region that sponsors a category in my local poetry societies (poetry club) annual contest. Their category is technically perfect Hexaduad’s. Hexaduad’s? What in this world is a Hexaduad? Well not only is it extremely complicated, and although I had it explained to me, I still don’t understand them. But seriously, technically perfect Hexaduad’s? Let me go over them briefly:

Think in a series of blocks extending from a vertical line, horizontally. Like a graph. Starting from block A, each syllable is a block. So across the top you can put Block A, B, C, D and so on till you have eight blocks, which is the letter H. Now, moving down vertically you want to number the amount of blocks you can use. The first two lines are two blocks. The second two lines use six blocks. The next two lines across, use four blocks, then two with six again, and two more with four again. So, the first line is two syllables, as is the second line. The third and forth line use six syllables and so on. Each two lines with the same amount of syllables, or blocks, must rhyme. Here is an example:

The main
[Do] [main]
Of cats is any where
[They] [saunter] [in] [to] [dare]
Current long term inhabitants.
Throw a ways with intelligence
[Find] [the] [good] [life]
[With] [good] [less] [rife.]
[Sam] [a] [ri] [tans] [who] [feed]
And care for cats in need
[These] [cats] [en] [thrall]
And do give all.

In some of the lines, I used boxes. I wanted to show you that they are not supposed to show the boxes, but I wanted to show the boxes to make my point. So anyway, that’s a Hexaduad. Well, some of the other area’s of competition in the contest is themes, like sonnet, religious, free verse, Haiku, etc. Of course, since poetry is my Kung Fu, perhaps I should have entered just to see what happened. Tragically, I let other things besides this contest take my time. Well, tomorrow is the post date dead line, so perhaps there is a Hexaduad in me!

But one thing is for sure, Hexaduad is a technical poem, that a Rhymer could do. My goal is to write a Hexaduad with passion. Wow that’d be tough. Well, I have tonight and tomorrow day to work on it. After I enter it, I'll publish it here on this blog, so stay tuned. Oh, and if you want to be a great Rhymer, then go for it! Poet? Then pour on the passion, emotion, and capture the moment!

A new Poem

2005-08-14T13:43:00.000-05:00

Here is a poem that I wrote a few years ago. Look at each word carefully. Not one of them is arbitrary or a force rhyme. See if you can tell me what this poem is describing?

Inspiration

Inspiration
Anticipation
Of reconciliation
Is motivation

Hebrew nation
Instigation
Holy Christian
Revelation

Indoctrination
Globalization
Reproduction
Of true conversion

Integration
Of socialization
Spiritualization
In degradation

Utilization
Of expectation
Bring negotiation
Of determination

Modernization
Of canonization
Bring standardization
Of denomination

Revitalization
Of interpretation
Is fertilization
For Inspiration

New Poem!

2005-08-08T10:55:00.000-05:00

I wrote this poem for and submitted to the Kentucky State Poetry Society's publication; Pegasus. Thundering Hooves

Thundering hooves trample
Blue grass, each touch of
The steed’s steel shoe
Grinds mercilessly into
Fresh Kentucky soil.

Uncontainable command
Rippling muscle striding
Ready to launch skyward
With noble wings waving
Like the angel mercy.

The fresh blue wind yields
To the noble steed
With the rush of green
Skimming below in
Rapid transition blurs.

About Poe

2005-08-03T14:45:00.000-05:00

I was at the bookstore buying my daughter’s birthday present (tomorrow) and of course made my usual stop at the discount table. The best game in town is a small Walden’s in the local mall, but it is sure better than nothing! Rather I open my own bookstore here in Flatwoods, but that is another story. Truthfully, Carla and I talked seriously about it the other day. We just might pursue it! We’ll see.
Well, low and behold (I just love that term) they have the complete works of Edgar Allan Poe in a single volume for just $7.99. Well, how could I refuse? I had on my birthday wish list to have the poetry of Poe, but now I have the complete stories and poems. It doesn’t include any of his essay’s and literary review’s. I read The Raven for the first time since High School (20 years ago) and wow is it the work of a master. Talking about under appreciation, wow seriously, I under appreciated his work. In High School, which most of the time I was drunk, this reading was just another assignment. Now I can savor each and every word. I looked at the amount of poetry he wrote, and my first thought is that it wasn’t a great volume. But reading it, I realized that I was a boob for thinking so. His skill and craftsmanship so far surpasses mine, that I feel humble by my ASS U MEtion.
There is a part of me that pity’s Poe. He died young (I think 42 years or something like that) and he was reportedly pretty miserable life. He suffered from a tragic marriage, upheavals in his education, a strained relationship with his adoptive father, and rampant substance abuse. And ultimately, unless otherwise known, it was highly unlikely that through Jesus Christ he was reconciled to God. If the work we do as writers reflects what we know, then Poe’s mind was obvious.

I know that he is considered the father of the detective novel, inspiring many of his time. He also pretty much defined modern horror, without whom, writers like Stephen King and Peter Straub wouldn’t have a career. Of course there is no way to know that for certain, but it stands to reason.

Regardless, I am just fired up about getting this collected volume! Quiet the thrill. There is nothing like getting a book that you highly desire for a steal.

2005-07-30T12:24:00.000-05:00

I Googled “linear thinking” in hopes of breaking free from the typical view point that I tend to have on poetry. I found this http://www.laetusinpraesens.org/docs/conftran/conftrt.php and it was quiet interesting. The other day I was in the library looking some stuff up. One of which was the simple encyclopedia entry for poetry. It was fascinating and rather long. It talked about standard traditional form, meter, rhythm, rhyme, and so on. I liked it. But I thought to myself (recently), this just might be linear thinking. I know that there has been tremendous efforts in free verse, most of which I know nothing about. And I am quiet sure that there have been made great strides towards avant-guard artistic poetry, but none that I’ve seen. I came up with several conclusions, all of which may be premature or unnecessary. One, I should do more searching for other than the norm poetry. Two, take into context and figure out how to apply cyclical and circular thinking into poetry, in order to break the standard “linear thinking” of traditional form and verse. I think that “Slam” poetry is a great start in that line of thinking. However, the one disadvantage with Slam poetry is that it leaves the page and is more of a performance. For those of us who are stage shy, that just won’t do. BUT, perhaps, leaving the page is cyclical thinking. True enough, standard forms must be rehearsed and practiced in order to master technique. Also true that without first learning the technique, freedom in verse or free verse cannot fully be appreciated. But traditional form doesn’t necessarily bind as much, perhaps, control the words and thoughts which create that frozen in time emotion that the poet is conveying.

To break linear thinking one must apply cyclical or circular thinking. How is this done? Well, many a moon ago, poetry’s foundations started in a spoken tradition, many times to rhythms and beats. Sometimes even by accompanied music. Then the written tradition started, through various means. The Hebrews had a great poetic history, starting with the book of Job. Aristotle also contributed a great deal while advocating tragedy and Greek tradition. The renaissance period hit, with many more “forms” of poetry developing. Much of our current bound verse is a result of French and British poets and poetry traditions, including the Rondeau and the Sonnet. There have also been Asian influences on modern American poetry as well, specifically the Haiku.

Then fellows like Walt Whitman came along and reinforced and even defined Free Verse. Here is a Whitman poem –

The little one sleeps in its cradle,
I lift the gauze and look a long time, and silently brush
away flies with my hand.
-Walt Whitman-

Although this seems rather simple, it is in fact pure genius and at the time, cutting edge. He is most famous for his Leaves of Grass (which can be found in almost any bookstore). Well, he opened up a flood gate and a poetry tradition that has lasted decades, and probably will last a few more if not more. The fact that some people still write Rondeaus and Sonnets tells me that Free Verse will never truly die.

However, that being said, I want to apply cyclical thinking to the patterns of poetry. In this line of thinking, I would say that there is going to be either a return to bound form, or spoken verse, much like Slam. I could also be lacking an enormous amount of insight. I am sure there are individuals seeking, or have sought their doctorate in creative writing, pursuing and musing about such things, and I’m sure they would have a greater insight. This is just me, barely educated, and self-taught in many areas, forming a guess.

My love of speculation is boundless! But I want to get deeper. I want to apply cyclical or circular thinking onto the page itself. Not in speculation of trends and traditions, but on the page itself. How do I, P. Allan, get round? I guess I have more speculation to contend. How do I break the page? How do I leap out, get three dimensional with written words? I feel as though I could really use a writing class or seminar? Perhaps next year!

New Poem Time!

2005-07-23T14:03:00.000-05:00

Courage in Poetry

Courage she says? Courage to
Speak plainly concerning
Women’s sexual exploits and
Her personal power gained by
Owning her victories over
Male chauvinism? Has she
Done this in her poetry?
Have you DD?

What about having enough courage
To employ integrity in your
Everyday life and relationships?
True integrity that makes people
Take notice. Have so much integrity
That it makes people uncomfortable
Because of their own guilted
Conscious. Put that in your poetry
Submissions and see if you can
Get in print! Or will using the
“F” word be so avant-garde that
The young grad who just took
Over editorial can only
Relate to obscenity?

2005-07-15T14:07:00.000-05:00

I am grateful for the contributor of the last blog. His research seems to be write on! (get it? Write on? Anyways it seems as though the going understanding with internet law, is that anything written on a forum or blog is considered published.

In the August 2005 edition of Writers Digest, there is a small section called Questions & Quandaries. The first question has directly to do with what we’ve been talking.

The question is something like: Does having a story posted on a blog or an online writers’ forum mean that first-time electronic media rights can’t be sold to a publication? Does it mean that you’ve already used your first serial rights, too? What should I tell an editor when I am submitting a story or poem I’ve posted on my blog, even if only 50 people have read it?

Great question I think. That pretty much sums up, but a little more thoroughly what I was asking.

The answer given, basically, if you’ve put it on a blog or forum, you can’t sell your first electronic media rights elsewhere, says their legal expert. Whether 50 or 50 million people see it, it is published. Other publishers don’t have the chance to be the first to publish it, online or otherwise. Most contracts require you to warrant that piece hasn’t been printed or published in any form.

The going thought process is that it would be best to notify the publisher or editor that it is on your blog, and they might be willing to arrange something.

So, I kind of feel like a poem blogged would almost be a waste, but I still like to share my poetry, and I can always save them for my next chapbook. So I think that I will be wise in what I put on my blog, and what I submit for compititions and publications.

New Poem

2005-07-15T13:57:00.000-05:00

The New Cage

Rats in a cage
Smart are they that
Know the cage.

Each inch
No exit
Water bottle
Pellets

But wait
Who’s that?
Life outside
This cage?
People walking
Staring in
What cage is theirs?

Life beyond cage?
Life bigger than this?

Lifted from cage
Freedom so close

New cage,
Larger
What new life could
This be?

Snake!

To publish, or not to publish?

2005-07-06T12:05:00.000-05:00

To post or not to post? That is the question. I am in a quandary. There are poems that I would like to post and share with you all. All of which will someday show up in my second collection. But what I am uncertain of is publishing rights, and qualifications of poems on a blog are considered published or not. Are they considered published? Or not? I really don’t know. In many poetry publications, literary magazines, and announced contests they require previously unpublished poetry. That is where the dilemma is at.

To me, a blog is basically a journal online, but technically I believe that it is published. The reason that I think that is because years ago, there was a company that promoted their blog’s as being self-published. That is really the only thing that I have in my head that relates to the subject.

I think my ideal situation is to find some message boards where I could find an answer. I'm sure I am not the only person to struggle with the same issue.

I only can produce, on average, two to three poems a week. There are many factors included to determine this rate. The first being inspiration. It is hard for my to write a poem that has to come out of the thin air. I can do it, it’s just that it isn’t that easy. Second, I need to pick out what form I am using. Free verse? Traditional? An if traditional, what type? Dramatic Monologue, Cinquain, Haiku, limerick, or a Rondeau are all possibilities, and there are even more. I like to use rhyme and meter and so forth, but it takes a great deal of work.

I may be alone in my thinking, but I doubt it, mainly because nobody is alone in the way that they think. But to me it seems that I can achieve a greater level of expression and passion in free verse. It is unrestricted, and you can use form to a greater advantage. However, there is also some creative security in using more common traditional style as well.

I really want to work on my meter and rhyming, because it is like training for the martial arts, but for poetry. I am assuming that the more I become proficient at using traditional form, the better I will become at free verse. The more discipline I achieve, the greater my freedom will be. It’s the same principle used in my experiences as a Christian. The more I resist transgression, the freer I become as a person.

So, in conclusion, I think investigation is required before I post anymore of my poetry, and I need to practice my form, so I can become a poet Kung-Fu master.

2005-07-01T02:23:00.000-05:00

Father poet and mother page yearn to give birth to every possible childlike words that somehow encase our infantile spasms to express. In this powerful and mighty universe, we are but irreverent children, fumbling our way around. Poetry has only been around since the great storytellers of the ancients. And yet, we still haven’t found our way. Centuries of developing meter, diction, and rhyme have gone to the wayside thanks to other poets such as Whitman and Frost. Redemption has shown its frightful head through the works of Maya Angelou and others. But why were these gifts from our poetic forefathers disregarded for the sake of greater expression? Is it the pride of arrogance and rebellion that teenagers express when they refuse to need their parents? I’ve been reading the trade magazines and I am reading today’s poets. Here is the poem that I just wrote…

Lettin’ off a Little Steam

Readin’ poet trade magazines
Looking for craft and skill
When none is found
Then what should I think?
They are getting published and
Their names are on the cover, but
I read their poetry and I find a lack
Of elegance and poise.

Brutal are these pen masters to
Their topics and their paper.
Forcing words to conglomerate
And coagulate in needless
Procession. If them then
Why not me?

Simple, theirs is the courage that
I have yet to find. Theirs is the courage
That I seek and yearn for.
Or arrogance perhaps? My pen
Is encouraged and well pleased
With OUR relationship. It is happy to
Be put to the pad and scribe for
Its master. Some day’s are happily
Filled with rhyme and meter. Other
Days are filled in free verse but with
Sense making words plugged in to
General thought processes.

Hide pen, hide in fear that the professing
Poet may grab you like Neanderthals scraping
Their knuckles across the paper with ink
Coming out of the tips. Hide that these
Kamikaze literates will target you with
Its degree baring strokes, like a dog scraping
Its butt on the carpet to scratch that little itch.

“Regardless of the vomit I spew on the page
I will presume to acknowledge my talent
That I ASS U ME that you think I have.”
Says the lady with her picture between the covers
Of this magazine. “Are there not certain
Privileges and rights to me because of my
Education and your lack of one?” asked the
Elderly man who has lived the extremely
Odd and eccentric unproductive life.
Flee you reader, and search not within
These pages of poems to find the old
Fashion but long forgotten rhyme and meter.
Look not here, for those who have been
Trained who now rebuke the knowledge of
The craft in which we profess. “Boundaries be
Cursed!” they will say. “No obligation do
I have to my literary forefathers!” and then
They run rabid like old yeller at the end
Of the movie who ‘needed’ to be put to
Sleep.

I wait for the light saber bearing teenager
Who will bring that new hope to the
Community that I profess. Or perhaps
I should get off my ever widening backside
And do something about it.
Copyright c.2005 P. Allan Frederick

Almost the entire poem is an exaggeration for drama’s sake. Ugly images and startling words were brought to the fore front for a purpose. Last year, I read a great deal of the great poets of the 19th and 20th centuries. I am amazed at the grace of these words while making no compromise in content and intent. These words are crafted like skilled woodworker, sculpting and chipping each and every stanza. But when I read today’s poet’s, I am squeamish at the chopping and hacking at dead trees, in search of the new innovation. Vulgarity and shock value loom and weave these butcher block floors.

So I make a decision, the decision to lead by repentance. I wish not to throw out progress made in free verse, only “progress” made by impenitent mouth washers whose only goal is to make their opinion find great worth. Oh, the poet has his pain, as stated in my first chapbook, Back from Dreamland, page 52…
The Poet’s Pain

Aahrrg, the burden of the poet,
To lay waste of words in wait.
Anxiety alone in line to the ten o’clock
Panels of expression in vocabulary angst.

The torture and ache of a poets pain
Dragging on paper lit with joy of sorrow
Eager to shine thoughts, defeats, and
Examination of literatures soul.

Unleash your barge docked in tow!
Get it out and run the pan of rapids
Rudder honed only by desire to be heard
Poets pain freight carried ashore.
Copyright ©2005 P. Allan Frederick, Carla Frederick

And I understand that pain. I understand the need to express and call the universes attention to me through each word captured on paper, made to submit to our literary egos.
We’re trapped in a way, us poets. The need to innovate is fierce, and mandatory to meet the requirements of pretentious magazine and publisher editors. If you want to read some good poetry, buy a copy of a poetry anthology magazine, or a magazine about poets, and you will see advertisements from small house printers and publishers pushing their new poets chapbooks. Write down the address and order it. Find one for whatever reason that appeals to you, and buy one. Or better yet, go to a poetry reading with enough money to buy a cup of coffee, and a chapbook. Support that poet, and support the literary arts, specifically, the continual growth of poetry.

The singular chapbook will have more to say than a novel of monotone gibber gab, hailing to narcissistic demigods of the poetry world.