Out of the Gate

Many years ago, my life coach had encouraged me to celebrate the completion of my memoir, The Stage Is On Fire. I had been working on the manuscript for well over three years in supportive writing classes, with patient editors, in a coffee shop surrounded by fellow writers who, by their very existence, proved that even in the brutal writing world, people still get books published. I was scared to share the work, but celebration needed to happen, and a friend graciously opened her doors for the festivities. I was born and raised in Louisville, Kentucky. The Kentucky Derby makes the first Saturday in May, and the month prior, truly special. It made sense that the manuscript launch happened that day. We called it “Out of the Gate” in honor of the race.

Out of the Gate Today

Starting gates and bold ventures are in the zeitgeist today, too. Creativity, compassion, connection, and love can lift us. The projects we want to complete. The relationships we wish to start, build, renew, and strengthen. The rest we want to find. The joy we want to live. The sunshine we want to feel on our skin. That can happen right now. Find a starting gate. Look at long odds and do it anyway. Initiate a bold venture. We can be bold in our choices. Boldness as vulnerability. Boldness as stillness. Boldness as courage.

Read the whole story here.

MONDAYS ARE FREE 036 — 040

Birds, Consonants, Vowels, Flight, and Kentucky Derby Pie

EXERCISE 036: BEGIN WITH THE END

Cirrus whispering

Anadiplosis is the rhetorical and poetic device in which words at the end of a line are in some way taken up at the beginning of the following line.

Write a poem of no more than twenty lines that uses anadiplosis, has four instances of end-rhyme, two birds you know the name of but couldn’t identify if you saw them, and some lyrics from a hymn.

Begin With The End

Like some Exclamatory Paradise-Whydah, I set out to find heaven./ I traveled between and up to mountaintops./ Jumped through hoops and pulled out stops./ I waded in water. I measured my steps. I searched for great faithfulness. I felt amazing grace.

I heard the sound of one voice — sometimes that all it takes to breathe and know my pace./ Oh, King-of-Saxony Bird-of-Paradise. Oh, Invisible Rail./ Your majesties carry me to heaven./ Your bread knows sacred leaven./ You stitch and soar./ You are anchor and oar. 

Oh, Tinkling Cisticola. Oh, Sandy Gallito./ Your majesties ground me in heaven on earth./ Precious birds take my hands./ Build tables and nests./ Guide dreams and quests.

Oh, Fluffy-backed Tit-Babbler. Oh, Kori Bustard./ We will know heaven by our love. By our love./ Love divine. All loves excelling./ On wings of angels we tell./ Abide we me.

Spit and Spaghetti #2

A few recent pitches …

The Synthesis of Hyacinths and Biscuits: Finding Poems in the Seasons

Carl Sandburg describes poetry as the synthesis of hyacinths and biscuits. Naomi Shihab Nye finds poems in life’s reinvention. Poems are artistic structures—metaphor, simile, grammar, meter, rhyme, and more. Seasons are both structure and reinvention. Seasons are life’s reinvention by past, present, and future definitions. The call for submissions asks us to think about seasons differently at this moment. The call also suggests reflecting on the intersection of seasons and celebrations. This essay will consider seasons as reinvention, explore the relationship between seasons and poetry, and celebrate seasons’ beauty, complexity, and strength through poetry.

Taking A Walk #9

If I can make myself laugh about something that I should be crying about, that’s pretty good. — John Prine

It feels good to laugh. At serious times, it is hard not to get paralyzed by seriousness. At grave times, it is hard not to dig our own graves of despair and heartache. At sad times, it is hard not to drown in our tears. I turn to the music of John Prine to help navigate hard times. I saw him perform “Paradise.” I saw Bonnie Raitt cover “Angel from Montgomery.” I heard Brandi Carlile pay tribute singing “I Remember Everything.” I played fiddle when I was little, so maybe his music reminds me of an essential self that knew joy and connection. I was born in Louisville, Kentucky, so maybe his music reminds me of my story, a high lonesome I understand. He signed his first record deal in 1971, the year I was born, so maybe his music reminds me of the arc of my life and my responsibility to make the world a more honest and poetic and compassionate and beautiful place each day.

Weekly Wide-Awake #1

Weekly Wide-Awake #2

Weekly Wide-Awake #3

Weekly Wide-Awake #4

Weekly Wide-Awake #5