Every autumn
The wind sweeps dust off old trees
like a french maid, nose in the air, her iPod earbuds jutting out,
lungs soundlessly exhaling lyrics of forgotten songs.
Those empty pop tunes breeze past you and me,
and with a shiver we see the accident as it happens.
In all the cleaning, leaves have started to fall.
The red-orange veins drop in slow motion sunlight,
and we watch the wind trying to catch them.
Everything stops for her, she leaps and slides under each leaf
and almost gets every one. They pirouhette and stall.
But there are too many, and
one by one crash on the sidewalk.
For the rest of the season, the wind will try to gather
all of them in neat piles, to put back what’s been broken
before she gets too cold to care.
———————————————
Still writing. Another month of a poem a day. I’m so thankful for my life and the ability to find these moments in it.
Mae is darned good.
So, I saw Mae last night at the Bottom of the Hill in San Francisco. Good times. I remember that’s where I saw The Jealous Sound with Sarah and Matt one weekend morning.
Anyhow, here’s a Lala playlist:
Apologies to an Apple – A review
In the last couple of months a new poetry website/social network has sprung up called Read Write Poem, and as a member I had the pleasure of being called to participate in the second “Read Write Poem Virtual Book Tour.” This means I have the opportunity to do more than just tell people they should read great poems by unknown poets, I get to tell them why they should read these poems.
Maya Ganesan’s debut Apologies to an Apple is a very competent body of work, with poems ranging from the surrealism of the natural world to foreboding loneliness. The book starts on a really great note with the short “Perhaps.”
Perhaps tomorrow I
will spend the morning in
the woods and catch up
on woodland gossip with
the squirrels.
In fact, the entire first third of the book is dedicated to the poet and her place in the natural world, oftentimes anthropomorphizing in order to create characters that fuel voyages of wonder and discovery. Youthful surrealism; I love it.
In the second section, she explores her connection with others, including her family. I particularly love the piece “Don’t Know Linen,” a somber poem, I’m assuming, about Alzheimer’s.
The sunset du jour throws
Mauve rays like darts.She said some time ago,
I don’t know linen.But she sits here, 6 p.m. dusk,
Linen and hospital find her.Against a closed sky,
Her white wings beat.She is uninvited.
The calendars will
Remember today’s kind of autumn,The color of the open air,
The view from half-closed blinds.She shapes tracks of water
On the table beside her bed:A leaf, a tree, a cloud.
And finally, in the third section of the book, she explores her connection to herself. As a fellow poet, I definitely could relate to this gem of a poem called “The Art of Knowing.”
no one knows you are coming and going underneath
this big sky and drinking a hundred vowels eachminute, drinking and spitting
you are walking underneath the awning of a petite
French-style café and someone five miles awaydoesn’t know
Now, I tried my hardest to not judge the book by what I knew about it going in. You see, Maya Ganesan is only eleven years old. As I said, this book is a very competent collection of poems for anyone, but for an eleven year old, it truly speaks to the talent and bright future ahead of her. I very much look forward to the next several books by this bright and inspiring poet.
Pick up a copy of Apologies to an Apple at Maya Ganesan’s website. Also, read some of the other reviews of her book at the Read Write Poem Book Tour.
Avatar… and Papyrus?!?!
Why, Avatar, why? Why go there? I mean, you do all you can to transport us into a different world, and then you sully it.
Dude, ditch the Papyrus.
Shatner reads Palin poetry
Love it!
Clint Howard gets all the good roles
Okay, so this last season, there’s been some great television that ought not to be canceled (and thankfully wasn’t), some amazing television that seemed doomed to be canceled (and was), and some really crappy television that’s fun to watch but should have been canceled (and wasn’t), but then there’s Fringe, which I didn’t expect to love as much as I do. I finally watched the last two episodes from the season tonight, and it was one of the most rewarding season finales of the year. And it’s not just for the following scene, from episode 19, “The Road Not Taken.”
Yes, that’s Clint Howard. Brother of actor/director Ron Howard and child actor from the original Star Trek. Not to mention one of the most prolific tertiary actors of our time. I love the references to the new Star Trek movie. Especially given that the three creators of the show wrote and directed the new Star Trek movie.
Geek on!
A post of updates
A week ago I was married. It was possibly the greatest day of my life, and I had a blast seeing all the smiling faces of these people who love us (or just like us, that’s cool too). Here’s a small taste of the proceedings, from the first dance:
Believe it or not, search for Lawless Duel on the Googlemeister and that video is the no. 1 hit! Thanks to everybody who made it, and special thanks to everybody who posted their pictures on Facebook. It’s been a blast re-living those memories with you.
I never thought I could love Nicole more than I already did, but one week into the marriage and I’m glad to say I was wrong.
Also, today I submitted my business license for Penciled In Designs! I’m now legitimate business!
I’m now running the Windows 7 Release Candidate on my main machine and I’m seriously impressed.
The artist and the canvas
After dark, there’s an unveiling;
a curtain dropping from your shoulders.
And then the ballet, the paint brushing canvas,
the pen inking notes like flags through our lines.
We trapeze over the hushed crowd
and limbo under a flaming sunset.
Afterward, on your back I draw plans
for skyscrapers and airports,
wineries and dog parks.
In studying the blueprints of your shoulders
I find the best floor for a fire escape.
I’m scribbling a poem
in front of a twentieth story bay window
overlooking this new country we have built.
=======================================
That is the April 22nd poem in my month-long effort to write a poem a day. It’s coming along great! Way past the halfway mark, and I’m considering just keeping it up into May and beyond.
Penciled In Poetry – Episode One
Welcome to Penciled In Poetry, a twice weekly podcast about my poetry. This episode I read and discuss “As she begged me to slow down,” published in my book There Is Nothing Poetic About Fish.
As she begged me to slow down
The car flipped, we exchanged ground for sky,
and in that second, you and I
found the truth more solid than ever before.
My right hand gripped yours,
the left white-knuckled the steering wheel,
and the autumn sun tiptoed through the windshield like
a disco-ball slow dance on fire.
Baby, the truth is,
sometimes we’re a forty car pileup
and nothing will ever fix that.