My youngest boy had a lovely idea for Poetry Month; we would agree on a poet for each week of April and each of us would record a poem or more by that poet. It was fun, and I even found a few poems by these favorites that I hadn’t heard before. You can follow back through this blog and his, or to skip the commentary and just go for the audio experience, we’ve put together the whole playlist. As the young man says, it only takes about 9.5 minutes to listen through.
Unfortunately, that headline is not followed by a photo of Richard Blanco and me draped in bath towels, side-by-side in the mirror and shaving. I’m sorry to disappoint (myself). No, this is supposed to be a more family friendly post for Global/National Poetry Month.
The Monkey and I are doing a project in which we choose the same poet each week, and then each record a different piece by said poet. You can go back and listen to the results on both of our pages. In fact, we’d truly love it if you did that. We put a lot of brain power into selecting two living and two dead poets for this project. The dead poets wouldn’t get back to us, and we’re hoping that the two living poets don’t mind.
Since I had a busy Monday, complete with a car that failed to start before an impending Northeastern snow storm, followed by a toothache that turned into a miserable headache, I never got around to making a Music Monday post. But Milton and I were just listening to a cheerier post from one of our favorite humans with sounds from one of our favorite musicians.
Back in September of 2016, my poem, “Cleaving,” was published in the online literary magazine, Yellow Chair Review. I almost forgot that five years ago, my two youngest sons and I did a little recording of it for YouTube. But after the editing of the poem and the video, we decided that it was good enough to submit for publication somewhere and kept it “under wraps.”
At that time I had started sporadically submitting things to be published and most places considered anything Google-able to be “previously published.” Almost nobody wants to print previously published poems. And though the words were not “printed,” they did appear onscreen in the minute and forty-five-second clip, so we thought it best to just “temporarily” shelve the wonderful piece of production, as of that time seen only by a few friends.
Well, I’ve been submitting more regularly and frequently the last two years, and thankfully Yellow Chair Review saw fit to include “Cleaving” in its 8th issue. Six months have passed and while you can read it there on their pages, along with two other poems they were gracious enough to publish, I decided it was time to dust off the video. Continue reading “Cleaving, the Video”
I have been meaning to share this song on a Monday Music post or a Saturday Song feature, but my youngest son, Micah got it up on his blog first as a Tuesday Tune. I know not every Christian is like this. There are many out there who are good people but many of the ones from the protestant subculture I grew up in, well . . . it is rare to bring back emotion from that time, enough to choke me up, but this is how they made me feel.
Please check out the Monkey’s blog: Source: A Tuesday Tune
Proud Papa Moment #7642:
The Monkey is reading poems out loud again. He read for us at the launch party for Word Fountain’s winter issue and he read as one of the only two readers to participate in the open mic portion of a local coffee shop’s guest poet visit in his hometown of Lock Haven last night. The best part for me was hearing both his pre-event nervousness and his post-poetry euphoria.
He and I have been working on a new project, a big goal for us for the year, a father-son chapbook, and you’ll hear more about that in upcoming posts. We got some creative and organizational progress done on that while he stayed with me this week. And as always, he’s a big help at the library.
Go check him out, please.
My father does these on Thursdays, but I want to do it Friday at eleven o’clock at night. This poem is technically a love poem. It is a poem about love. In fact it’s right there in the …
Source: Friday Love Poem