Confession Tuesday
I’d like to do a bit of a roll call, so leave a note here or with Carolee to let us know if you’re confessing this week.
NaPoWriMo, baby! 30 poems in 30 days. Can I tell you I’ve been stressing out about it? Coming up with something to write about has been the subtext of my day. If I spoke to you this afternoon, I was really thinking about writing a poem—sorry! And after I post this, so begins the scrounging for content for tomorrow’s poem. But it’s all good, right?
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My poem, "Miseries of Spring," was sent to the producers of Weekend America (thanks Des!). If it had been selected, I would have read it last Friday to air on Saturday or Sunday. Oh well. It still felt great to have someone submit my poem to public radio. Here’s the poem that was selected: "Hands That Melt Like Snow."
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This Wednesday, Cave Canem comes to Boston University for a panel discussion and reading. It’s a great opportunity for me to see old friends and mentors, while meeting Boston poets and other local writers. If you're in the greater Boston area, hope you'll stop by for this free event. It's gonna be fabulous!
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At some point during the weekend, I remembered my friend and poet Phebus Etienne passed away around this time last year. I’m unsure exactly when because she died alone in her apartment in New Jersey and was found days later. Can’t think of anything more regrettable than her dying alone. She was so full of life and so talented. I miss her.
Yet again, Phebus is still looking out for me. The latest issue of Callaloo* arrived in my mailbox last Friday. I contributed an article about her for the issue. Then a few of her poems follow, with the last article contributed by Joseph Legaspi. So our pieces acted as bookends for her poems. Phebus, you better believe I will be invoking your name at the CC reading.
(Note, the Callaloo Web site has not been updated with the latest issue yet.*
NaPoWriMo, baby! 30 poems in 30 days. Can I tell you I’ve been stressing out about it? Coming up with something to write about has been the subtext of my day. If I spoke to you this afternoon, I was really thinking about writing a poem—sorry! And after I post this, so begins the scrounging for content for tomorrow’s poem. But it’s all good, right?
****
My poem, "Miseries of Spring," was sent to the producers of Weekend America (thanks Des!). If it had been selected, I would have read it last Friday to air on Saturday or Sunday. Oh well. It still felt great to have someone submit my poem to public radio. Here’s the poem that was selected: "Hands That Melt Like Snow."
****
This Wednesday, Cave Canem comes to Boston University for a panel discussion and reading. It’s a great opportunity for me to see old friends and mentors, while meeting Boston poets and other local writers. If you're in the greater Boston area, hope you'll stop by for this free event. It's gonna be fabulous!
****
At some point during the weekend, I remembered my friend and poet Phebus Etienne passed away around this time last year. I’m unsure exactly when because she died alone in her apartment in New Jersey and was found days later. Can’t think of anything more regrettable than her dying alone. She was so full of life and so talented. I miss her.
Yet again, Phebus is still looking out for me. The latest issue of Callaloo* arrived in my mailbox last Friday. I contributed an article about her for the issue. Then a few of her poems follow, with the last article contributed by Joseph Legaspi. So our pieces acted as bookends for her poems. Phebus, you better believe I will be invoking your name at the CC reading.
(Note, the Callaloo Web site has not been updated with the latest issue yet.*
Comments
Cool that your poem was submitted. You are right it is a good thing.
It's hard to remember those anniversaries of death. It's terrific there are monuments and moments you can look to to honor the life. Nice.
Somehow, I always feel better about NaPoWrMo when someone esle confesses their trepidation. Solidarity.
It's an inspiration for me to read about your publishing successes.
My husband grew up in the Boston area, and I lived there for a year, teaching Spanish in a private school. I found Boston to be a great city for book lovers. I went to Cambridge every weekend.
I've posted my first NaPoWriMo. It's light fluff, but at least I''m using my brain.
Looking forward to reading your poetry this month.