“If only one line in a poem has energy, then cut the rest out and leave only that one line. That one line is the poem.” William Carlos Williams to Allen Ginsberg Poetry is like wine. We start out drinking Ripple, then move on to Mateus, and then graduate to something much better, I hope. […]
Saturday night: A wedding reception was taking place in the back of The Winter Sun building, the same building that houses The Café Del Sol, where our Spoken Word Open Mic’ was to be held. There was a belly dancing performance across the street at the Black Water Loft, and The Jacksonville Center nearby was […]
A frequent Scrabble partner and member of my Writer’s Workshop who I was barred from naming on my blog, passed away Thursday morning. Although he suffered from numerous health complications, his death still came as a shock. His name was written on my calendar, expected to come to dinner on Sunday. His write-up about our […]
I wade through a sea of leaves on my daily walk to the mailbox. Most people rake leaves this time of year, but there’s no point in doing that in my sprawling yard, where their presence is like an endless incoming tide. By spring most of them will have decomposed and be reduced down to […]
For awhile it looked like we would be reading without a mic. “Sort of like going bra-less,” I said to my friend. “You know, like not having any support…for your voice.” She did an inter-active piece, once the Café Del Sol staff got the sound system figured out. She passed out index cards and pens […]
AKA Just in time for Halloween… One of my earliest childhood memories goes like this: When I was 5 years old, I found some pills in the bathroom medicine cabinet that looked like M&Ms. I promptly sampled them and quickly discovered that they weren’t candy. The medicine left my lips and tongue bright purple, which […]
It’s my sister Kathy’s granddaughter, Isabel, taken by her mom, Beth. My Little Prodigy #1 can be found here.
November 3 I’m sitting in a cafe, drinking a Coke. A fly is sleeping on a paper napkin. I have to wake him up, so I can wipe my glasses. There’s a pretty girl I want to look at. ~ Richard Brautigan I was raised on jump rope songs, nursery rhymes, and songs from the 40s that my father taught me. Those were my early influences and the foundation for my love […]
One of my most interesting writing assignments was interviewing Ruby Altizer Roberts in the fall of 1999 for Expressions magazine, a Blacksburg art publication that is no longer in existence. In 1950 Ruby was voted the first woman Poet Laureate of Virginia by the General Assembly. In 1992, she was given the added title of […]
When my husband asked me recently what he could do to help in the garden, my answer was, “EAT! IT’S PAY DAY!” August Gold We get paid in corn for our garden labor We strike it rich with every husk pulled back The sun has forged an Aztec banquet a silky purse for August gold […]
Welcome in the word… Have you heard? Mara Robbins Small squares of laminated words from favorite poems hung from the poet tree like holiday ornaments. Under them, and situated between two nearby stages, the poets read whenever there was a break in the music performance line-up during the 3 day world music festival (Floyd Fest). […]
AKA: Colleen on the Soap Box ~ It’s always a challenge to choose which poems to read at a spoken word performance. The poems should be varied but flow well together. My friend Mara began her last reading at the Blacksburg London Underground Pub with an offering of “something borrowed, something blue, something old, and […]
