Motivation: Day 29

Today marks day 29 of the 100 day project which means I have left  29 poems in homemade notebooks in some pretty random places.

Every day I check the email I set up for people to respond to the poem only to end up disappointed. No responses. And then I thought maybe it requires more of me then just sending poetry into the world, maybe it requires some courage. So this weekend I decided to change up my strategy. I left a poem book in a tip jar at a restaurant for a singer whose voice moved me. I tried to be discreet and she didn't see me do it at the time. But a day later I had a response. She figured it out, found me and sent the message below :

"I'm not sure why you chose the poem you left as a gift for me, 

or if you could have known what kind of impact it would have,

 but it did, and I can't thank you enough."

Turns out a little poetry and a little courage has big pay offs. I'm not discounting the poems that I have left randomly because who knows when I might get another message.

Motivation: Being Open

Last week my husband and I went to an open mic called OutLoud at the Joy Center. Basically people come together to share stories, songs and poetry. I was really nervous about sharing my poems. But hearing the other's stories I knew that I was in the right place.

So I shared.

And at the end of the night as everyone was bundling up to go home, a woman approached me and explained that she was the editor of a local magazine called Health & Happiness  that promotes well-being. She gave me her card and asked if I'd be willing to send her one of the poems I read. Without even thinking I replied, Of course.

The thing is that 6 years ago if she had asked me the same question I probably would have thanked her and declined. I was so caught in where to be published and how to be published that I would have turned up my nose.

Boy, have I learned a lot in a few years.

Humility.
Gratefulness.
Openness.

It's not about accolades or prestige or the publishing game for me any more. Right now it's about opening myself up to what the world has to offer. And getting the chance to share my true love of writing poetry seems like a pretty good deal!

Motivation for Monday

I spent part of my weekend with the Marquette Poet's Circle at a poetry workshop. It is so amazing to be in room group of talented people. Each and every poet had great feedback and revision suggestions. Support is such an important part of the writing process and it was wonderful to feel so encouraged. After getting home I was even more motivated to work on my poem. 

So today as you sit down to write, know that you are supported. In whatever endeavor you are working on, revising or maybe just stuck thinking about, I am sending you supportive vibes.



“Everyone has inside them a piece of good news. The good news is you don’t know how great you can be! How much you can love! What you can accomplish! And what your potential is.” ~Anne Frank

Friday Original Poem

Little Garlic River Waterfall

This poem was born out of my poetry therapy homework. First we were given the first lines of the poem below I,I by Yosano Akikio which was first published in the inaugural issue of the feminist magazine Seito in September 1919. Then we after reading the poem we sat with it and asked questions like : What will move my mountains? Are there obstacles I want to overcome? Or who do I want to be? Who am I?

So for me it wasn't mountains I identified with but water. I encourage you to write your own version even use some of Akiko's phrases to get going and see what happens.


I,I
By Yosano Akiko

The day the mountains move has come.
Or so I say, though no one will believe me.
The mountains were merely asleep for awhile.
But in ages past, the had moved, as if they were on fire.
If you don't believe me, that's fine with me.
All I ask is that you believe this and only this,
That at this very moment,
women are awakening from their deep slumber.

If I could but write entirely in the first person,
I, who am a woman.
If I could writer entirely in the first person,
I,I.


I,I
By Regina Gort

The day has come that the Little Garlic River will overflow,
taking in the sandy banks, swallowing the surrounding land,
when it will merge with Lake Superior as one.
Or so I say and no one will beleive me.

The river has been steadfast to its sandstone ravines
to its rock riverbed where it passed gently along.
And now the rains are plentiful, abundant and fierce.
A persistent downpour of clarity that stirs the river's desire
To be whole and overflowing.

All I ask is that you believe this and only this,
that at this very moment I am awaking.
I, who am mighty
I, who am whole
I, who am one with river, with rock, with rain and with Lake
I, who overflows
I,I.

Making Monday Possible

Today I offer a poem from Robert Haight. Find your way to fly today.


Learning to Fly


The first desire of the child
is to fly, which is why children
after crawling or standing,
walking or finally learning to run
are often found perched
atop a stack of books on a high chair,
hanging, one hand on the wall,
the other clutching a light fixture,
peering up, up, as if the earth
were another womb to break free from,

and once we resign ourselves to life
on foot, it becomes the desire of dreams,
so that the dream becomes possibility,
and waking, a kind of disappointment.
We try to fall back to sleep
before the dream flies away
but arrive in time to feel only the brush
of wind from its feathers

until finally
a life of this desire takes form
and in our old age
we come to resemble birds,
gnarled hands stiffened to claws,
eyes darting around our heads
which seem to tilt back,
as if setting a course,
as if we will grow wings
sometime very soon.

(Source: Samples from Water Rain by Robert Haight)

Success

This week is a big push for me. I have a deadline for some revisions. When I get into this mode I get a visit from the little voices. You know the ones that like to make you doubt. That's when I pull out the poem below and gain some perspective. Here's to a successful day of writing!

FOR THE YOUNG WHO WANT TO
Marge Piercy

Talent is what they say
you have after the novel
is published and favorably
reviewed. Beforehand what
you have is a tedious
delusion, a hobby like knitting.

Work is what you have done
after the play is produced
and the audience claps.
Before that friends keep asking
when you are planning to go
out and get a job.

Genius is what they know you
had after the third volume
of remarkable poems. Earlier
they accuse you of withdrawing,
ask why you don't have a baby,
call you a bum.

The reason people want M.F.A.'s,
take workshops with fancy names
when all you can really
learn is a few techniques,
typing instructions and some-
body else's mannerisms

is that every artist lacks
a license to hang on the wall
like your optician, your vet
proving you may be a clumsy sadist
whose fillings fall into the stew
but you're certified a dentist.

The real writer is one
who really writes. Talent
is an invention like phlogiston
after the fact of fire.
Work is its own cure. You have to
like it better than being loved.