1.the clothes would come out of the dryer folded
2.someday I would be as famous as Robert Bly and Poetry would obviously not read my poems and take them anyway
3.that this version of the book is THE version.
I have begun my stint with the Minneapolis Institute of Art so my time for the next few weeks will be minimal. If anyone catches C.D. trying to throw me off his roll, please form a maddening crowd. I promise to be back in full form in two weeks.
I also made the decision that I will apply for more writing grants. Okay so I decided that I will actually DO this and not just think I might. My thought is: my feminist writing which tends to piss off a few judges in the world of poetry might actually serve me well in the places that support feminist writers. *big slap on the head*
Yeah for those people, when I am old and rich I will make a grant for authors who have to write a book while P.B.S plays in the background, it will be called “The Barney Kick Your Ass Grant” and will be open to all writers with small children. Okay my kids have moved on to Arthur but the premise is the same.
Today I facilitated my support group for girls, which is a great mix this time around. We talked about having a support system, choosing and making good friends. I told them that it’s guaranteed that someone will miss understand something they say, that sometimes people try to talk around the subject and not through it. We did roll play about communication so they would how to handle it when it happens.
I realized I need this in poetry life. I need someone to tell me,
“This poem is going to be rejected 20 times even though you know it is the best poem you have ever written.”
“You need to realize Teresa, the book is what you WANT to say, not the stuff you think you should say to be heard”
“And you are a writer, even if no one reads you, you are.”
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9 comments:
i love number 1 - i wish for that daily . . .
hey teresa can you change the spelling of my name - pleaseeeee
on your blog roll
it's bredl / not berdl
hey try not to be too minimal
i miss you when you don't write daily
~jx
Please send me the application for "The Barney Kick Your Ass Grant." Today.
And what“you need to realize Teresa, the book is what you WANT to say, not the stuff you think you should say to be heard,”
Please be aware that, "this poem is going to be rejected 20 times even though you know it is the best poem you have ever written.”
And whatever you do--never forget:
“you are a writer, even if no one reads you, you are.”
xo
finchy, done.
and suzanne my friend you just earned yourself an extra baby hat:)
"And I say, 'Hey!'..."
I will miss you. I often wonder what Barney jingles have done to damage my Muse. That's one dino I'd like to barbeque a la the Flintstones. For my son's 10th birthday party I went all over town searching for a Barney piñata for the boys to bust. It had to be Barney. It was very symbolic for my son. But not a Barney to be had, probably too traumatic for small children. My son had a major episode the first time I took him to a movie.. It was Barney on the big screen. When it was over he screamed and rushed the screen with his arms flung out like he was trying to hug a big ghost crying, "Come back! Barney, come back!" Everybody in the theater "awwww"ed. He cried for a long time before I could get him to understand it was like a big video. Then he cried again and begged me to "rewind the tape" and everybody laughed. Now he wants to bash it and I still hear...no, I won't do that to you, you're too good a writer. At least Arthur has a much better song, and, I can dance to it while I'm waiting for the dryer and dodging cats. It's got that up-tempo, up-life reggae beat. "All the people that you meet/ with their particular point of view...And I say, 'Hey!'..."
"Uh hup" Don't ever get me started on my Barney imitations. Too many nights reading those books & fan club magazines. I can do all the voices but I can't remember a word of anything i wrote during that time. Did I write? I think I did. I don't remember, but I'll never get rid of those stupid songs embedded in my already gray gray matter. Grey Mater. Besides babyhood breast feeding already makes you stupid, least it did me: "Ah...I used to be smart." ~me 1995. I coulda used a good "Barney Kick Your Ass Support Group."
I've been reading your blog since I started reading blogs a few months ago. I couldn't before due to caveman technology, now I have stepped up a few ages. I have some comments about a few of your poems I could pass on if you're interested. Also, I'm considering offering manuscript consultations in Isla Mujeres, Mexico. I could do it here, over the phone or mail, but I just think that me & everyone else just needs the excuse to go to Isla Mujeres. As the name implies, it's a good place for women to go and re-treat. Your blog is such as well. I'll miss it.
Another Lonely Bird In The Early Hours of Sky...
oops, off to walk my son to school
1.Out of the dryer folded? You mean you're supposed to fold 'em? And somebody please tell me what the heck an iron is? (smile)
2.Don't you mean as famous as Billy Colins?
3.This version IS the version. Or um, THE version. No, seriously. It is.
As far as your affirmations go, gee, does it make me delusional (or merely Emily Dickinson, ha ha) that I believe fervently that I am a writer even though no one reads me? Because I do. Hi, my name is Laurel and I'm a poet. (I wonder if there's a 12 step program for us...)
Oh, man...
What I MEANT to say was:
Hey, you misspelled my name too! (smirk)
(is it my turn? I think it's my turn and I lost track...)
Okay Lorna, I am not dying I am just posting less but considering how much I posted today, I’d say I am pretty much up to speed and yes I would very much like your ideas about the poems, though the ones I post here are always my first drafts. They go through a bit of change before I send them out in public with clothes on. Also I would be up for any retreat that involves sun and a bit of water. Please don’t make it a lawn chair and a wading pool.
Dodge I know HOW to spell your fricken name and it so not my turn;) The poems I read on your blog the other day made me ache so yes, by all means call yourself a poet. The t-shirt is in the mail. Okay maybe it is my turn.
LOL -
you girls make me laugh
thanx for the correction teresa
i'm just wondering now after
reading lorna's comment how many
brain cells i actually have left
i nursed all 6 - - -
dayum - "barney is a dinosaur
he comes from our imaginatioN"
some one hand me a gun & some valium
please
or even just some spare brain cells
~jx
And A Link Back To Your Web Site Excite You?
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