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The skinny girl walking arm-in-arm

with her little sister

is wearing a shirt that says

TALK NERDY TO ME

and I want to,

I want to put my bag of groceries down

beside the fire hydrant

and whisper something in her ear about long division. . . .

From V, by Matthew Dickman 
from How a Poem Happens: Contemporary Poets Discuss the Making of Poems 

 

My new favorite thing: How a Poem Happens.

Without fanfare or fancy design, Brian Brodeur is a poetry illuminator. How a Poem Happens — the blog he created in 2009 — is an impressive collection of interviews with poets who discuss the making of specific poems.

Brodeur chooses one poem, asks the author to answer ten to fifteen questions about it, and posts the answers on the blog.  The results are simple, significant and rapidly growing. The site features dozens of insightful interviews with heavy hitters such as Tony Hoagland, Donald Hall and Stephen Dunn, and lesser known but equally powerful poets such as Jennifer Chang, Adrian Blevins and Matthew Dickman. 

"The project began in selfishness," Brodeur, the author of two poetry collections, said in an interview with First Person Plural. "I wanted an excuse to contact some of my favorite living poets and ask them how they wrote some of my favorite poems."

Brodeur's curiosity benefits us all. 

 

In unexpected places

I love finding poems in unexpected places. I get a giddy zing when I run across poetry on the bus, my phone, or in the bathroom. In fact, years ago, in an effort to get 'poetry to the people' I randomly chose names from the phone book and anonymously mailed out poems. (Sadly, I had to stop this practice when the anthrax scare created suspicion of unexpected mail).  

All of which explains my joy to share poetry next week in a most unexpected place: a massage studio.

The Gentle Dragon Massage & Healing Hideaway will mark their opening with a two-day celebration of music, speakers, demonstrations, prizes — and poetry.  I'm happy to be included in the festivities, and eager to get poetry out of the books and into the world. What fun! Please join me.

Gentle Dragon Grand Opening
in Yachats, Oregon
Peacefully nestled in the Greenhouse Marketplace, among the Touchstone, Earthworks and Wave art galleries.

• Saturday, May 22, 1 to 6pm
- poetry (at 3:15pm)
- acupuncture
- music
- imagery
- herbalism
- storytelling

• Sunday, May 23, 11am - 4pm
- music
- acupuncture
- art
- prizes

For more information, contact Zeora at the Gentle Dragon Massage & Healing Hideway, 541.547.4721.

 

Prettyful?

 

What's your word of the day?

It's how we start each session of Happy Hour for Young Readers & Writers. If I slip up and race to writing, the youngsters are quick to set me straight: But we haven't done word of the day, they say, alarmed I could forget such an important component of our weekly gatherings. 

Polkadots is a popular word. Coffee comes in week after week (from the same energetic girl) and peanut butter pie was a big hit, too.

Let's stretch ourselves, I say, after bored or depressed is mentioned for the third time. And so our Word Wall became dotted with a new language:  

boomalotice

zipolicious

confuzzled

prettyful

hoper 

I was conflicted at first. That's not a word, I would say in my cranky librarian voice. My old-school ways wanted the kids to appreciate the beauty of existing language, real words. But the more accepting life-is-art part of me giggled at their creativity. Writing is a love of language, the sounds and shapes words can make. These made-up and mixed-up words — fueled with an enthusiasm for invention — are the apex of language appreciation. And, really, zipolicious is just plain fun. 


Errors, Omissions & Headaches

Technical difficulties are working my last nerve. 

Several months ago I switched to a new website format. I've been posting two and three blog entries a week, writing, with great trust, as I  lobbed words into the darkness. Surely, someone was reading, right?

Not much feedback, not many comments. I tried not to be one of those 'sensitive' writers who moan about their lonely lives. There are a zillion writers and even more blogs. Who was I to think I had something unique to offer, or had crafted content worthy of followers, the web's holy grail of affirmation? 

Last week I got my answer. A colleague told me she hadn't been to my site in months because she hadn't received any of the email notifications she signed up for. 

Turns out, none of my subscribers — admittedly not a large number — were getting my posts via email. The blog bookmark feature seems to work just fine, but if you signed up to get postings by email you haven't heard from me since March! 

And so, here I am, tossing words out again. I've tweaked the subscription feature (at right). You can now subscribe to my blog by bookmarking Off the Page in your own browser, and/or choose to receive blog posts by email (simply type in your address).  

Fingers crossed for full and successful operation. And please, please, let me know if I get lost in this labyrinth. It gets so dark and cold without you. 

 

Generate

I'm on a hunt. Can you help me?

I've been to a handful of writing workshops. I've been elated and inspired, and defeated and depressed. The best — and first — writing workshop I attended set the bar high. Offered by the now-defunct Taos Institute of Arts, the one-week workshop with poet Judyth Hill affirmed my desire (and shaky ability) to write poetry. It is not melodramatic to say it was an experience that changed my life. 

There were others that were not-so-good. I don't want to repeat those feelings of dread and defeat. And when I'm paying a good sum for a learning experience, I don't want to walk away feeling a loss of enthusiasm, and hard-earned cash. 

But still, I hunger for workshop invigoration. And I'm on the hunt. At this point, I'm not looking for a critique group or experience. I'm looking for a workshop like those Taos days, in which I generate new work in the company of others. 

Any suggestions?  

Have you been to, or heard of, generative writing workshops or retreats? Please let me know. 

 

Give it away

 

Whenever I read a poem that moves me,
I know I'm not alone in the world.

 

How lucky we are
That you can't sell
A poem, that it has
No value. Might
As well
Give it away.

That poem you love
That saved your life
Wasn't it given to you?  

 

- Gregory Orr
from Concerning The Book That Is The Body Of The Beloved 


Shame the rain

 

Spring is so darn fickle! On the Oregon Coast life is turning a brilliant green but the season teases with dodging sun and a damp chill. I'm eager — and not patiently it turns out — for floaty skirt and strappy sandal weather. 

During a free-write session at last week's Writers Group, Linnea Harper (a mentor-volunteer with me) was spot-on with this poem about my (premature) leap into spring: 

 

Spring Optimist

for Drew


She wears a spring dress

in the April shower that feels like

sweatshirts and fuzzy boots.

 

Sometimes you just have to

strap it on, I say, take what’s at hand

and give it a new shape,

wrap yourself up in it

like a sari or a sheath—

hair and lipstick just so—

dressed to lure a clear day,

prepared to shame the rain.

 

I've written poems to/for/about others, but never had one written 'for' me. What a treat! It feels good to be on the receiving end of words (yet another reason I love Poem in Your Pocket Day, which was when Linnea happened to write this poem). Thanks Linnea! 

 

Gifted

She likes the words coffee and zoom! 

She doesn't want to write poems or read poems or sit still. Last week as the other youngsters wrote and copied their favorite verse, the 10-year-old stood apart, defiant. 

So we wrote together, just the two of us. Simple things: A word for each letter of her name, such as kind, intelligent, energetic . . . She unfolded slowly, said she would share our poem with her father, then asked to take a book of poems home. 

The next day, she raced to me, her face flushed as she rattled through her backpack. "This is for you," she said. In her careful script, on special paper, she had copied a poem we had read together the day before. 

This confirms my love for Poem in Your Pocket Day. You never know what a poem will plant, what seed will grow.

 

 

Winners!

I'm very happy — exuberant even — to announce winners of the first annual Poetry Book Giveaway: 

If you're a winner and you see your name below, please email me at dcm@drewmyron.com with your mailing address so I can ship your book right away.  

Winner of Forecast, a word-art collaboration by Drew Myron and Tracy Weil, is A.M. (also known as Amber McQuillan) of Newfoundland.

Winner of The Real Warnings by Rhett Iseman Trull (one of my favorite poets and poetry collections), is Matthew Thorburn, a poet living in New York City. 

The Poetry Book Giveaway was created by poet Kelli Agodon to celebrate National Poetry Month and promote a love of, and appreciation for, poetry. Over 50 bloggers took part, giving away more than 100 poetry books.

The event has been a wonderful way to explore and discover a mix of new, unknown and established poets. Many thanks to Kelli at Book of Kells for including me as a Giveaway host, and to everyone for stopping by and entering the drawing. See you next year! 

 

What's in your pocket?

Happy Poem In Your Pocket Day!

Today, you are officially encouraged to carry a poem, share a poem, write a poem, recite a poem . . . live your poem. It's one of my favorite 'holidays' — rivaling my love of May Day (the all but forgotten act of secretly leaving a clutch of flowers at a neighbor's door). 

Here's the poem I'll be carrying today:

A Great Need

Out
of a great need
we are all holding hands
and climbing.

Not loving is a letting go.
Listen,
the terrain around here
is
far too
dangerous
for
that.

— Hafiz

 

What poem will you carry and share? 

 

In praise of process

This morning over coffee, my husband and I worry over his mother's health.

One thread leads to another and mothers are on my mind. 

Washing dishes, I think of my mother and how her voice, when she telephoned, strained for light. I've heard the same searching tone in a friend lately. Her mother passed away and her days have turned slow and dark. Last year, another friend lost her mother abruptly.

At the kitchen counter, I wipe up crumbs and jot a line. Fold laundry, jot another. I feel the zing of ideas swirling, words forming. The physical act of writing, combined with the mental and emotional rush of words, creates an adrenalin faith. Words rise and bubble, catch air, gasp for more, multiply.

I don't know if a poem will arise from these disconnected places but I am forever grateful for the process, for the reverent way words form an altar of hope.

 

Poetry of Place

 

In a poem one can use the sense of place as an anchor for larger concerns, as a link between narrow details and global realities. Location is where we start from.  

- Maxine Kumin

 

Robert Michael Pyle

Charles Goodrich

Penelope Scambly Schott

With the publication of Windfall: A Journal of Poetry of Place, I am thrilled and honored to be in the company of these and other noted Pacific Northwest poets.

And I especially appreciate the focus editors Bill Siverly and Michael McDowell bring to their twice-yearly journal. In a world papered with publications, Windfall remains unique by emphasizing poetry "written in the Pacific Northwest and which is attentive to the relationships between people and the landscapes in which we live."

My poem has found a home in the Spring 2010 issue.  

A Shape Half Gone

It's been a year since I came to this beach, where
where we gathered as sisters, spread blankets and limbs
across warm sand and let the strained sun lull us
while the girls dug trenches, climbed rocks, found
shells the shape of hearts.

A year since I spoke the word, knowing
now how rape divides all time and banter, each
of us sliced by the severity of its cut.

You find heart-shaped stones at every turn.
From walks you return full, love spilling
from hands and pockets.

When I admire the rocks arranged on the mantel
you're surprised I have not found the same.
But they're everywhere, you say.

And I think of fall leaves fading,
the moon crescent against ebb tide.
Everything half gone, while you see plenty.

When I married, the pastor asked me to repeat
"In plenty and in one."
Of course, I thought, but my husband said,
"In plenty and in want."

Is there a difference?

Last year on this beach, I wasn't looking for
rock solid love, wasn't searching for a shape
to contain.

Instead, your daughter found a heart-shaped shell.
In its center, a perfect hole. No crack or ripple
but smooth, as if just born.

- Drew Myron 


One Word

image from PostSecret.comOne word changed my day.

Miss. 

As in, Thank you for shopping with us, Miss.

Note the absence of the word Ma'am. Last week I nearly leaned across the counter and kissed the pimply-faced young man who had the kindness and good training to call me — a 40-plus woman — Miss instead of Ma'am. 

It takes so little to warm my heart. 

 

The one that got away

 

It was puppy love in that we both loved your puppy more than each other.

 

Missed chances. Young crushes. Old regrets. Who hasn't felt the "What if?" or the "Why not?" of a former flame?

Andy Selsberg understands the pull of old love. He's compiled a collection of messages people have written to former flames and objects of affection — all anonymously. Dear Old Love lets us ruminate in the touching, funny, spiteful and sometimes sad sloppiness of the "ones that got away."

Much like Six Word Memoirs and PostSecret, Dear Old Love is a crazy, desperate blend of heartbreak and hilarity.

 

 

Draw down to book drawing

The 2010 Poetry Book Giveaway is in full swing! We're halfway through National Poetry Month, and halfway to the drawing to win books. Have you entered? 

Fifty (yes 50!) blogger-writers are taking part in the Poetry Book Giveaway, created by poet Kelli Russell Agodon at Book of Kells. Each blogger will give away two books of poetry — one of their own, and one of their favorites. 

Enter here to win:
1. Forecast - A word-art collaboration with paintings by Tracy Weil and poems by Drew Myron (me!) 

2. The Real Warnings - poems by Rhett Ismeman Trull

To enter:
1. Write a comment below by May 1, 2010. Include your name and contact info (so I can reach you if you win).

2. Two names will be chosen in a blind drawing on May 1, 2010. 

3. Winners will be posted here on May 2, 2010. 

There is no entry fee & no trickery. Just free and fabulous books! Enter below, and then visit Book of Kells for links to other book giveaways. 

 

Write, read, buy

Ahhh April, when our minds turn from fools to taxes to poetry.  

It's official: the Academy of American Poets declares April as National Poetry Month.  Here are a few ways I'll mark the occasion:

• Host a Poetry & Prose Reading
It's my party and I'll write if I want to . . . Gear up for a fun (code: not stuffy and dull) reading event on April 24th at 7pm in Yachats, Oregon. Go here for details.

•  Enter the 2010 Poetry Giveaway
Over 30 poetry lovers are giving away books, including me!
Go here to enter my giveaway, and go here for even more. 

• Buy poetry
Sure, we all love Mary Oliver and Billy Collins, but for every ''bestseller" poet there are 100s of little known writers with books eager for your love. Support your local poets (i.e, friends, colleagues, neighbors) and buy their books. 

• Read poems
Toss aside the People magazine and reach for poetry instead. Don't worry about "getting it" or making sense of it, just enjoy the language and ideas. Let words wash over you and see what floats. 

• Write poems
I'm not a big fan of writing regimes. I've done my share of 'you must write' schedules and I tend toward sullen guilt rather than breakthrough art. Still . . . there is much to be said for commitment, and I applaud those who take part in the Write-a-Poem-A-Day-Challenge, or writing groups, or daily word counts. These practices make us accountable. Good writing doesn't just happen — you gotta show up.  

• Celebrate Poem in Your Pocket Day
My very favorite part of National Poetry Month is Poem in Your Pocket Day. This year it falls on Thursday, April 29th. Go here and get ready! 

How about you?  What are you doing to feed your mind and your writing? How are you making National Poetry Month meaningful?

 

Spring, when our prospects brighten

A single gentle rain makes the grass many shades greener. So our prospects brighten on the influx of better thoughts. We should be blessed if we lived in the present always, and took advantage of every accident that befell us, like the grass which confesses the influence of the slightest dew that falls on it; and did not spend our time in atoning for the neglect of past opportunities, which we call doing our duty. We loiter in winter while it is already spring. In a pleasant spring morning all men's sins are forgiven. Such a day is a truce to vice. While such a sun holds out to burn, the vilest sinner may return. Through our own recovered innocence we discern the innocence of our neighbors. You may have known your neighbor yesterday for a thief, a drunkard, or a sensualist, and merely pitied or despised him, and despaired of the world; but the sun shines bright and warm this first spring morning, re-creating the world, and you meet him at some serene work, and see how it is exhausted and debauched veins expand with still joy and bless the new day, feel the spring influence with the innocence of infancy, and all his faults are forgotten. There is not only an atmosphere of good will about him, but even a savor of holiness groping for expression, blindly and ineffectually perhaps, like a new-born instinct, and for a short hour the south hillside echoes to no vulgar jest. You see some innocent fair shoots preparing to burst from his gnarled rind and try another year's life, tender and fresh as the youngest plant.

 

— Henry David Thoreau, from Walden, “Spring”

Poetry Giveaway 2010

In April, three of my favorite things will converge:
• poetry
• free stuff
• mail 

To celebrate National Poetry Month, a host of writers are sharing their love of poetry — with free poetry books! (Thanks to poet Kelli Agodon for orchestrating this worldwide event). For my part, I am giving away two books to two lucky winners (includes free shipping to anywhere in the world).

How to Win:
• Leave a comment on this post any time before May 1, 2010. 
   Include your name and contact info. 
• On May 1, two winners will be chosen in a random drawing of names. 
• Check back and see if you are a winner!

Win these Books: 

 

• Forecast
A word-art collaboration featuring poems by Drew Myron and interpretive paintings by Tracy Weil. 

 

 

• The Real Warnings, by Rhett Iseman Trull

Winner of the 2008 Anhinga Prize for Poetry, the Real Warnings earned high praise from poet/judge Sheryl St. Germain: “Open this book up anywhere and you'll find a poem of fierce and uncompromising energy and insight . . . I've never read a poet who understands more fully the brutal paradoxes of love and of loving damaged things.”
   
• Enter now!  Good luck and good reading. 

 

 

In Six Words

Life: Chocolate outside, cyanide filling inside.

— Vinnie

Inspired by Smith magazine's Six-Word Memoirs, the (Young) Writers* have embarked on their own short-form descriptions. (As an aside — remember when memoirs were simply autobiographies? Has this form faded? Is everything now memoir?)

The six word form is instant, fun and sometimes profound. I love 'em. (My own six-word memoir graces this website's home page). Here are a few examples from a recent Thursday night writing session:

Be your self
The world is

— Tyler


I love being right, watch out.

— Siri


Heart work
Speak the truth
Always

— Senitila

Have you penned a six-word memoir? If so, share it here!

*(see previous post for more on this unsolved matter)