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August 6, 2016

What figures will you collect
To show your pop culture prowess? 
They've got them for every
TV show and movie, it seems -

These useless, plastic,
Balloon-head bobbers - but
They are fun. X-Files. Harry

Potter. Star Wars.
Bob's Burgers.

What the hell kind of a poem
Is this?
Fill up my bobblebrain
With poet bobbleheads - 

Emily Dickinson, Percy Bysshe
Shelley, Elizabeth Bishop,

And, of course, Pablo
Neruda and Maya Angelou.

Class, design your own
Literary toy. 


This is Poem #141 from the  Poem (almost) Everyday Project. Starting in mid-January 2016, I challenged myself to spend a year in which I’d wake most mornings and write a poem before my first cup of coffee. By the end of the year,  I had written 241 poems.  Here, I have published second drafts of  those pieces copied directly from my journal with minimal editing from their “vomit draft” state.

Just 100 more poems to publish.

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July 22, 2016

There is not a finished whole
To send out yet - just pieces
Pinned together with hope
And the belief I will get back

To it soon.  Ass to chair; they
Say it is the only way
To make progress,
And, yet, I find everything

Else to do but that. My
Characters are drumming
Their fictional fingers in the dark,
Waiting to know their fates,

Which, after all, are all
At my command. Writer's
Block, it is not. Oh, I have
Ideas. What stops the real

Work of revision
Is not that easily identified.
Fear. Trembling. Ego.
Laziness. Just what

Is helping me write this
Poem and neglect
The people who need 
Me the most?

This is Poem #126 from the  Poem (almost) Everyday Project. Starting in mid-January 2016, I challenged myself to spend a year in which I’d wake most mornings and write a poem before my first cup of coffee. By the end of the year,  I had written 241 poems.  Here, I have published second drafts of  those pieces copied directly from my journal with minimal editing from their “vomit draft” state.

July 2, 2016

You should expect

An empty page after

 

Such a proclamation

Of situation in the title;

 

But, alas, here words

Dot the page and guide

 

To some unpromised 

Conclusion. I have

 

Not looked at the “real”

work, the pages that exist

 

In a thick stack,

 

Printed in months, 

And, instead, spend time

 

With these poems;

Procrastinating.

 

Feeling non-fictional. One 

Hundred and nine poems in

 

Is not authentic writer’s

Block. Authorship is there

 

In the poet pen, but

Puts little bread on the table

 

Or oil in the lamp. 

But ignites the heart

And mind for no fee. 

 

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This is Poem #110 from the  Poem (almost) Everyday Project. Starting in mid-January 2016, I challenged myself to spend a year in which I’d wake most mornings and write a poem before my first cup of coffee. By the end of the year,  I had written 241 poems.  Here, I have published second drafts of  those pieces copied directly from my journal with minimal editing from their “vomit draft” state.

June 19, 2016 (Father’s Day)

Questions are not always

Answered, nor solutions

Solved. Which side

 

Are you on? 

Dispensing the known

To those who do not

Know what is needed;

 

Survival. It is not

All we want but

Necessary to getting

 

Up each day and enjoying

That first cup of coffee. 

 

This is Poem #97 from the  Poem (almost) Everyday Project. Starting in mid-January 2016, I challenged myself to spend a year in which I’d wake most mornings and write a poem before my first cup of coffee. By the end of the year,  I had written 241 poems.  Here, I have published second drafts of  those pieces copied directly from my journal with minimal editing from their “vomit draft” state.

This particular poem is part of a series inspired by my visit to The International Cryptozoology Museum in Portland, Maine. Some days I’d just point to a location on the museum map, and write from there.

Crypto Map

The front page of The International Cryptozoology Museum’s floor map.

On January 11, 2016 the world learned that David Bowie had died at age 69 of cancer. Heartbroken, I turned to poetry, and wrote “#DavidBowieReal” and thus began a year-long project that I called something like a “Poem-a-Day (for-everyday-that-I’m-not-teaching.) This was inspired, I believe, by a Robert Bly and Donald Hall poetry reading I’d attended several years earlier after Bly had published his collection, Morning Poems. Bly discussed how he’d embarked on the year-long project of writing a poem a day each morning before he even got out of bed. Later, he edited and collected the best of these into one of his acclaimed collections of work.

My approach was a little different. I wrote on my couch with my first cup of coffee near by, and decided that on the days that I need to be out of the house by 6:45 am, I would not require the writing. Hence, the total of 241 poems rather than 365. (In the end, Bly’s deemed 82 of his worthy to make it into his book.)

I posted a few here as I was immersed in the project, but most of them have sat dormant in my writing journals for over a year and a half.

2016 was a good year to have such a project going. It was a terrible year filled with significant celebrity deaths – after Bowie, Prince, Alan Rickman, Carrie Fisher, Debbie Reynolds – and that “election” we endured . . .  As well as personal trials and tribulations, and I’ve always intended to go back and “do something” with the work.

Now, after reading Maggie Millner’s article “Instapoets Prove Powerful in Print” in the latest issue of  Poets & Writers , fretting over the fact that I’ve not written much poetry since January of 2017, and missing the virtual artist communities of TGAP and the Myspace Poetry Society,  I’ve decided to publish all (or maybe most) of the poems from this project here in their unedited glory, in order, one a day.

I hope you’ll join me for this literary adventure.

 

 

 

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