Thursday, July 13, 2006
Friday, June 30, 2006
COO, COO, THE CHATELAINE COOS...
First, Blogger found all my old blogs.
Second, it seems to have been a technical glitch, indeed, on their part rather than the result of a conspiracy theory against Moi.
BUT...from the ashes rise ever more glorious WINGS! Nonetheless, I shall archive this blog....and continue blathering lovingly at y'all from MOI NEW PRIMARY BLOG
THE BLIND CHATELAINE'S POKER POETICS
Pls update your links.
I don't mind changing. The Poet, of all people, should always be flexible and ever-ready to adapt and evolve. After all, Poetry is a living critter...! It is Galatea becoming human and stepping off the pedestal to live, rather than staying as presumed cold objectified perfection as an immoveable statue....yadda! Poetry moves -- it lives!
First, Blogger found all my old blogs.
Second, it seems to have been a technical glitch, indeed, on their part rather than the result of a conspiracy theory against Moi.
BUT...from the ashes rise ever more glorious WINGS! Nonetheless, I shall archive this blog....and continue blathering lovingly at y'all from MOI NEW PRIMARY BLOG
THE BLIND CHATELAINE'S POKER POETICS
Pls update your links.
I don't mind changing. The Poet, of all people, should always be flexible and ever-ready to adapt and evolve. After all, Poetry is a living critter...! It is Galatea becoming human and stepping off the pedestal to live, rather than staying as presumed cold objectified perfection as an immoveable statue....yadda! Poetry moves -- it lives!
DURING THE BLOGGER PROBLEM
which Dear Blogger thankfully fixed, I had a temporary blog up. I'm cutnpasting below what was said for moi BLOG FILE CABINET. Thank you again to all who shared concern and love.
*****
BLOGGER --PLS FIND MY TRUE BLOG
BLOGGER's lost my blog. Until they restore it (which hopefully will happen soon), this is the message you see here!
UPDATE YOUR LINKIES! I'll still continue to work with Blogger in recovering all my old blogs. But destruction, as artists know, can be a doorway to creation. So this seems a good time to point you to my NEW PRIMARY BLOG:
THE BLIND CHATELAINE'S POKER POETICS
I've also created a new HAY(NA)KU BLOG.
Onward!
************************************
BLOGWATCH
DAY 2, 3: No reply yet from Blogger.
UPDATE:
First, %&#$%#(*_)(U(T&^R%^%#!+()(*&)*&^^!!! All yelled out enchantingly, of course.
Second, boy, am I learning more than I ever wanted to know about Blogger. So, yes, EVERY SINGLE ONE of my blogs went missing yesterday. As I scrambled around trying to figger out what to do next (thank you Michelle and A.D.), here's what I learned that I promptly share with youse because I live to serve (yawn):
1) It's possible the Blogger will inadvertently delete your blog(s) as a result of spam sweeps through its system (this may be what happened to mine). Often, Blogger is able to recover blogs deleted from such (and even blogs you inadvertently delete).
2) Once a blog is deleted, your link addy may be co-opted by some spam marketer hoping to lure your former readers there.
3) So if you ever wish to delete a blog, unless you don't care about No. 2, the way to do it is to empty out your Archives and just leave the blog hangin' out there in the world. If you delete it, that blog addy becomes eligible for someone's marketing nooky.
Fortunately, I learnt all of the above soon enough so that I promptly created new blogs utilizing all of my old blog addies; when Blogger recovers my blogs, I then can meld them together in a fashion that is not yet clear to me but which has been done. Irony of ironies -- I forgot about the Hay(na)ku Blog which happened to be the one blog that had my name in its site addy. Shitski. Blogger might still take that back for me but it'd just take longer; in any event, I've created a new hay(na)ku blog whose addy I'll reveal later if it's not clear that my addy "eileentabios.blogspot.com" is not recoverable.
Anyway, I await Blogger's reply to my emails and queries yesterday. Since they may not be able to respond right away, I at least wanted to continue business as usual with GALATEA RESURRECTS (or GR). GR's blogs are also missing but not to worry -- I kept copies of all reviews. So if Blogger, for some reason, can't recover the blogs, then I'll just repost the first two issues so that the reviews are still out there available.
I also didn't want Blogger's response to affect GR's ongoing business -- so I've gone ahead and reposted what were only 2 entries anyway that comprised Galatea's Purse where information about submissions and review copies continue to be updated.
I honestly think the mix-up was a Blogger error...though I did wonder briefly whether someone actually hacked Blogger to do a specific attack against Moi. If anyone has ever heard of someone having ALL of their blogs (not just some of their blogs or some of their Archives but ALL of their blogs) deleted from Blogger's system, let me know please. Interesting conspiracy theory, though, from Mark, as regards "those fucking reactionary haikuists" (tee-hee).
I will admit to enjoying having Comments (hi Ivy!). Now, in the Comment Stream, Alex mentions archives et al. It's interesting -- for me, when all my blogs disappeared, I wasn't as concerned about blogs with my writings -- and poems and poems -- and cared more about GALATEA RESURRECTS because it contained other people's words (fortunately, I have copies). And so, you know what I can confirm as a result of this calamity?
What, her fascinated 70 million Peeps reply?
The Chatelaine beams and sez: Gather 'round Moi campfire and let Moi tell you a story: There was a poet who lived in a house stuffed with his papers and poems and books and all the results of many years as a poet. One day, a fire got started next door and soon spread to his house. The poet was forced to run across the street without any of his work -- he stood there watching his house burn down with all his books, writings, poems, drafts of poems and so on. And as he stood there, watching his house flare up and then get all wet from the firepeople's hoses, a neighbor walked over to offer sympathy.
"Tough luck," the neighbor sez.
"Eh," the poet replied.
"Eh? Don't you care?" sez the neighbor. "You told me all of your work was in your house!"
The poet shrugged and said, "It doesn't matter. Poems aren't meant to be hoarded. And if I'm a real poet, I'll write more..."
And I suppose the most important reason why I am not THAT bothered by this calamity is that Poetry -- my poetry anyway -- has never been based on ... words.
Why do you all think Moi blathers so much?
Keep tuned -- more updates to come!
COMMENTS:
Tom Beckett said... Yikes! Zounds! Holy crap! 12:36 PM
Sam of the ten thousand things said... This is terrible Eileen. I hope your blog can be restored. 2:36 PM
Gura said... here, bloggy bloggy! Come out come out wherever you are, bloggy bloggy! 2:46 PM
Ivy said... Wow, that sucks. I hope you find your blog soon.
On the bright side, it's nice being able to comment. I love your blog, Eileen! :-) 4:37 PM
Ernesto said... WHAT?
Sister, where art thou?
Hope it's found soon... :( 5:03 PM
RichM said... Did they look under the desk? That sometimes works when I've lost something important.
Gee, I wonder whether somebody keeps a backup of blogger blogs somewhere. 7:45 PM
Ernesto said... I used to keep a back up of my template in case something was lost during updates. But I wonder if that would restore the whole thing. I am totally ignorant of these things.
I do need this blog back! Argh! 9:44 PM
Gura said... Thissite links to a PC program called, HTTrack, that lets you archive your blog to your desktop. 10:00 PM
Ernesto said... ...and it seems the hay(na)ku blog is also gone... 10:22 PM
Jill said... zut alors and gott in himmel! how does one track down a blog-eater? Sorry to hear of this disappearance. Hope there's appearance real soon. 11:21 PM
shanna said... This is so frightening! 7:37 AM
Ernesto said... It's really frightening. What happened? I know it's a fragile medium, but how can a blog disappear like that? 7:41 AM
T Martin said... prayers for a speedy recovery, chattyblog.
Tim 8:55 AM
AlexG said... over at my place I've suggestd that an enterprising special collections curator take on the responsibility of preserving poet blogs. there must be a way to do it & if not then someone simply must invent a way. 11:31 AM
RichM said... hay(na)ku!
blogs nuked!
hesus maria hosep! 4:59 PM
Ernesto said... Eileen, I miss your blogs so much. Of course that it's great to see you are still there and that you are still writing. I think something really important is happening right now: we are all realizing what writing and publishing and archiving is all about.
Moi remains. It really does.
I
miss you,
but I do
cherish
you, right
now, right here. 12:48 AM
EILEEN said... Thank you all for your good wishes. Dios Ti Agngina,
smooches,
eileen 12:02 PM
Cathy said... So that's what happen to the hay(na)ku blog. I thought you had deleted it. Terrible shame that you lost all your blogs. Hopefully Blogger finds them.
Have you ever thought of going to another service like Typepad? I use them and they are very good for the $90 I paid them every year.
Cathy
www.thequietone.net 12:56 PM
which Dear Blogger thankfully fixed, I had a temporary blog up. I'm cutnpasting below what was said for moi BLOG FILE CABINET. Thank you again to all who shared concern and love.
*****
BLOGGER --PLS FIND MY TRUE BLOG
BLOGGER's lost my blog. Until they restore it (which hopefully will happen soon), this is the message you see here!
UPDATE YOUR LINKIES! I'll still continue to work with Blogger in recovering all my old blogs. But destruction, as artists know, can be a doorway to creation. So this seems a good time to point you to my NEW PRIMARY BLOG:
THE BLIND CHATELAINE'S POKER POETICS
I've also created a new HAY(NA)KU BLOG.
Onward!
************************************
BLOGWATCH
DAY 2, 3: No reply yet from Blogger.
UPDATE:
First, %&#$%#(*_)(U(T&^R%^%#!+()(*&)*&^^!!! All yelled out enchantingly, of course.
Second, boy, am I learning more than I ever wanted to know about Blogger. So, yes, EVERY SINGLE ONE of my blogs went missing yesterday. As I scrambled around trying to figger out what to do next (thank you Michelle and A.D.), here's what I learned that I promptly share with youse because I live to serve (yawn):
1) It's possible the Blogger will inadvertently delete your blog(s) as a result of spam sweeps through its system (this may be what happened to mine). Often, Blogger is able to recover blogs deleted from such (and even blogs you inadvertently delete).
2) Once a blog is deleted, your link addy may be co-opted by some spam marketer hoping to lure your former readers there.
3) So if you ever wish to delete a blog, unless you don't care about No. 2, the way to do it is to empty out your Archives and just leave the blog hangin' out there in the world. If you delete it, that blog addy becomes eligible for someone's marketing nooky.
Fortunately, I learnt all of the above soon enough so that I promptly created new blogs utilizing all of my old blog addies; when Blogger recovers my blogs, I then can meld them together in a fashion that is not yet clear to me but which has been done. Irony of ironies -- I forgot about the Hay(na)ku Blog which happened to be the one blog that had my name in its site addy. Shitski. Blogger might still take that back for me but it'd just take longer; in any event, I've created a new hay(na)ku blog whose addy I'll reveal later if it's not clear that my addy "eileentabios.blogspot.com" is not recoverable.
Anyway, I await Blogger's reply to my emails and queries yesterday. Since they may not be able to respond right away, I at least wanted to continue business as usual with GALATEA RESURRECTS (or GR). GR's blogs are also missing but not to worry -- I kept copies of all reviews. So if Blogger, for some reason, can't recover the blogs, then I'll just repost the first two issues so that the reviews are still out there available.
I also didn't want Blogger's response to affect GR's ongoing business -- so I've gone ahead and reposted what were only 2 entries anyway that comprised Galatea's Purse where information about submissions and review copies continue to be updated.
I honestly think the mix-up was a Blogger error...though I did wonder briefly whether someone actually hacked Blogger to do a specific attack against Moi. If anyone has ever heard of someone having ALL of their blogs (not just some of their blogs or some of their Archives but ALL of their blogs) deleted from Blogger's system, let me know please. Interesting conspiracy theory, though, from Mark, as regards "those fucking reactionary haikuists" (tee-hee).
I will admit to enjoying having Comments (hi Ivy!). Now, in the Comment Stream, Alex mentions archives et al. It's interesting -- for me, when all my blogs disappeared, I wasn't as concerned about blogs with my writings -- and poems and poems -- and cared more about GALATEA RESURRECTS because it contained other people's words (fortunately, I have copies). And so, you know what I can confirm as a result of this calamity?
What, her fascinated 70 million Peeps reply?
The Chatelaine beams and sez: Gather 'round Moi campfire and let Moi tell you a story: There was a poet who lived in a house stuffed with his papers and poems and books and all the results of many years as a poet. One day, a fire got started next door and soon spread to his house. The poet was forced to run across the street without any of his work -- he stood there watching his house burn down with all his books, writings, poems, drafts of poems and so on. And as he stood there, watching his house flare up and then get all wet from the firepeople's hoses, a neighbor walked over to offer sympathy.
"Tough luck," the neighbor sez.
"Eh," the poet replied.
"Eh? Don't you care?" sez the neighbor. "You told me all of your work was in your house!"
The poet shrugged and said, "It doesn't matter. Poems aren't meant to be hoarded. And if I'm a real poet, I'll write more..."
And I suppose the most important reason why I am not THAT bothered by this calamity is that Poetry -- my poetry anyway -- has never been based on ... words.
Why do you all think Moi blathers so much?
Keep tuned -- more updates to come!
COMMENTS:
Tom Beckett said... Yikes! Zounds! Holy crap! 12:36 PM
Sam of the ten thousand things said... This is terrible Eileen. I hope your blog can be restored. 2:36 PM
Gura said... here, bloggy bloggy! Come out come out wherever you are, bloggy bloggy! 2:46 PM
Ivy said... Wow, that sucks. I hope you find your blog soon.
On the bright side, it's nice being able to comment. I love your blog, Eileen! :-) 4:37 PM
Ernesto said... WHAT?
Sister, where art thou?
Hope it's found soon... :( 5:03 PM
RichM said... Did they look under the desk? That sometimes works when I've lost something important.
Gee, I wonder whether somebody keeps a backup of blogger blogs somewhere. 7:45 PM
Ernesto said... I used to keep a back up of my template in case something was lost during updates. But I wonder if that would restore the whole thing. I am totally ignorant of these things.
I do need this blog back! Argh! 9:44 PM
Gura said... Thissite links to a PC program called, HTTrack, that lets you archive your blog to your desktop. 10:00 PM
Ernesto said... ...and it seems the hay(na)ku blog is also gone... 10:22 PM
Jill said... zut alors and gott in himmel! how does one track down a blog-eater? Sorry to hear of this disappearance. Hope there's appearance real soon. 11:21 PM
shanna said... This is so frightening! 7:37 AM
Ernesto said... It's really frightening. What happened? I know it's a fragile medium, but how can a blog disappear like that? 7:41 AM
T Martin said... prayers for a speedy recovery, chattyblog.
Tim 8:55 AM
AlexG said... over at my place I've suggestd that an enterprising special collections curator take on the responsibility of preserving poet blogs. there must be a way to do it & if not then someone simply must invent a way. 11:31 AM
RichM said... hay(na)ku!
blogs nuked!
hesus maria hosep! 4:59 PM
Ernesto said... Eileen, I miss your blogs so much. Of course that it's great to see you are still there and that you are still writing. I think something really important is happening right now: we are all realizing what writing and publishing and archiving is all about.
Moi remains. It really does.
I
miss you,
but I do
cherish
you, right
now, right here. 12:48 AM
EILEEN said... Thank you all for your good wishes. Dios Ti Agngina,
smooches,
eileen 12:02 PM
Cathy said... So that's what happen to the hay(na)ku blog. I thought you had deleted it. Terrible shame that you lost all your blogs. Hopefully Blogger finds them.
Have you ever thought of going to another service like Typepad? I use them and they are very good for the $90 I paid them every year.
Cathy
www.thequietone.net 12:56 PM
Wednesday, June 28, 2006
OFF THE PEDESTAL!
As of this writing, if all of the commitments pan out, the next issue of Galatea Resurrects will contain new reviews of about 62 poetry publications/projects. Sure, it's possible that some reviewers may not be able to meet the deadline at the last minute (that's happened a couple of times for each of the last two issues), but that is still a hefty, number, don't you think?!!
62 new reviews compare impressively to 38 in Issue No. 2 and 27 in Issue No. 1.
And we still have plenty of time until the Submission Deadline of Aug. 5!
Whoo-hoo! And speaking of whooo-hoo!, just this morning I got an email from a poetry lover in New Mexico who sez: "...and I must admit I've purchased a couple books based on the reviews you've posted..."
Well now! I shall keep saying how fabulously amazed I am at all these poets and poet-critics volunteering their time -- is it the w(h)ine poured by Galatea (heh)?
Do feel free to join the party by checking out the contents of Moi Purse! That is, authors and publishers may wish to send review copies! I can tell you that of the 62 commitments for new reviews, 39 were generated by the list of review copies. So peeps are trawling through that site, folks.
And speaking of wine, and Moi am ever speaking of wine, remember that members of Oenophiles for Poetry will review the first four issues of Galatea and their favorite review, I mean, engagement will garner a bottle of wine for its author!
The best news about continously getting offers to review is that, obviously, people are reading Galatea's site!
As of this writing, if all of the commitments pan out, the next issue of Galatea Resurrects will contain new reviews of about 62 poetry publications/projects. Sure, it's possible that some reviewers may not be able to meet the deadline at the last minute (that's happened a couple of times for each of the last two issues), but that is still a hefty, number, don't you think?!!
62 new reviews compare impressively to 38 in Issue No. 2 and 27 in Issue No. 1.
And we still have plenty of time until the Submission Deadline of Aug. 5!
Whoo-hoo! And speaking of whooo-hoo!, just this morning I got an email from a poetry lover in New Mexico who sez: "...and I must admit I've purchased a couple books based on the reviews you've posted..."
Well now! I shall keep saying how fabulously amazed I am at all these poets and poet-critics volunteering their time -- is it the w(h)ine poured by Galatea (heh)?
Do feel free to join the party by checking out the contents of Moi Purse! That is, authors and publishers may wish to send review copies! I can tell you that of the 62 commitments for new reviews, 39 were generated by the list of review copies. So peeps are trawling through that site, folks.
And speaking of wine, and Moi am ever speaking of wine, remember that members of Oenophiles for Poetry will review the first four issues of Galatea and their favorite review, I mean, engagement will garner a bottle of wine for its author!
The best news about continously getting offers to review is that, obviously, people are reading Galatea's site!
Tuesday, June 27, 2006
I ADORE REJECTIONS
for creating (viz the ever-shakin' cornshake) such a lovely performance project here. Check out these rejection slips. I just think this is so funny!
And congrats to Deb Schwartz for "finally" getting published!
for creating (viz the ever-shakin' cornshake) such a lovely performance project here. Check out these rejection slips. I just think this is so funny!
And congrats to Deb Schwartz for "finally" getting published!
THE FORM -- OR ARC -- OF THE POETRY BOOK
I am one of those who consider the book's book-ness a form. I may write poems individually but when it comes time to forming a book, another layer -- at times a narrative arc, even -- surfaces and helps me choose which poems belong to which manuscript.
(I'm talking about choosing from poems written individually to create a book, rather than a series of poems written more overtly to form a larger book project.)
Matter of fact, I prefer poetry books whose book-ness offers another aesthetic layer besides being a logistical conduit for compiling poems into a book-length manuscript. This might even be a good strategy for countering the sense of sameness that one sometimes gets from reading one (usually) slim poetry volume after another by contemporary poets -- a result that bespeaks commodification (?) since, without the book's inherent form, what point of organizing individual poems into one place except to market, make the parents happy, or soothe the ego? (N.B. This paragraph is not meant to diss those who take a different approach but only for Moi to explicate moi preference...).
I was reminded of this arc underlying certain poetry books, too, by my prior post. I had created nearly 20 "sticker poem"/drawings. When I went through the portfolio to generate a submission to Otolith, a logic of which works to include -- and the order in which I presented them -- surfaced. It was only after I put 11 images together to form their own collection that I realized the title: "The Corporate Cat."
It's consistent Moi...I also usually don't title poems until after they've been written. I rarely know what I will be writing about when I begin a poem. It's seeing one's way as one writes or makes a poem. To be open also facilitates other elements into the poem besides what is autobiography (yes, yes, it's all autobiography but that's a different point), including what was initial intention.
Anyway, this approach of course is nothing new or unique. I belabor it because I blog.
To blog is not just to de-labor but to belabor.
I am one of those who consider the book's book-ness a form. I may write poems individually but when it comes time to forming a book, another layer -- at times a narrative arc, even -- surfaces and helps me choose which poems belong to which manuscript.
(I'm talking about choosing from poems written individually to create a book, rather than a series of poems written more overtly to form a larger book project.)
Matter of fact, I prefer poetry books whose book-ness offers another aesthetic layer besides being a logistical conduit for compiling poems into a book-length manuscript. This might even be a good strategy for countering the sense of sameness that one sometimes gets from reading one (usually) slim poetry volume after another by contemporary poets -- a result that bespeaks commodification (?) since, without the book's inherent form, what point of organizing individual poems into one place except to market, make the parents happy, or soothe the ego? (N.B. This paragraph is not meant to diss those who take a different approach but only for Moi to explicate moi preference...).
I was reminded of this arc underlying certain poetry books, too, by my prior post. I had created nearly 20 "sticker poem"/drawings. When I went through the portfolio to generate a submission to Otolith, a logic of which works to include -- and the order in which I presented them -- surfaced. It was only after I put 11 images together to form their own collection that I realized the title: "The Corporate Cat."
It's consistent Moi...I also usually don't title poems until after they've been written. I rarely know what I will be writing about when I begin a poem. It's seeing one's way as one writes or makes a poem. To be open also facilitates other elements into the poem besides what is autobiography (yes, yes, it's all autobiography but that's a different point), including what was initial intention.
Anyway, this approach of course is nothing new or unique. I belabor it because I blog.
To blog is not just to de-labor but to belabor.
MORE RE. LUCIDITY POETICS
Pleased as punch to hear that "The Corporate Cat," my 11-part vizpo/drawing series utilizing stickers will be featured in the next issue of Otoliths (thanks to editor Mark Young). Inspires me to go to some store tomorrow and pick up a bunch of stickers for more of what I'm calling "sticker poems".
Of key significance (key to Moi if not to Toi) to what I'm doing with "sticker poems" is that I don't choose the stickers that end up as raw material. I go to store, look for display of stickers, close my eyes as I reach out my hand, take the randomly-chosen stickers ... and practice the faith that they will form a poem(s).
The process, I've found, is a good practice for enhancing lucidity.: seeing one's way to the poem...
Pleased as punch to hear that "The Corporate Cat," my 11-part vizpo/drawing series utilizing stickers will be featured in the next issue of Otoliths (thanks to editor Mark Young). Inspires me to go to some store tomorrow and pick up a bunch of stickers for more of what I'm calling "sticker poems".
Of key significance (key to Moi if not to Toi) to what I'm doing with "sticker poems" is that I don't choose the stickers that end up as raw material. I go to store, look for display of stickers, close my eyes as I reach out my hand, take the randomly-chosen stickers ... and practice the faith that they will form a poem(s).
The process, I've found, is a good practice for enhancing lucidity.: seeing one's way to the poem...
Monday, June 26, 2006
AND EYE IMBIBED
Latest list of books and wines experienced:
BOOKS:
EYE AGAINST EYE, poems by Forrest Gander
POP JUNK, poems by Jeff Karl Butler
WHERE X MARKS THE SPOT, poems by Bill Zavatsky
MARIJUANA SOFT DRINK, poems by Buck Downs
THE NAME POEMS by Jeffrey Cyphers Wright
ERRATIC SLEEP IN A COLD HOTEL, poems by Marie Kazalia
AFTER, poems by Jane Hirshfield
MY OWN SILENCE, poems by Jeanne Powell
20/20 YIELDING, poem by Sunnylyn Thibodeaux
LOVE WALKED IN, novel by Marisa de los Santos
FUNNY ABOUT THAT: MORE WONDROUS TALES FROM EVERY AMERICAN'S FAVORITE OTHER STATE--MAINE, essays by John Gould
THE GOOD LIFE, novel by Jay McInerney
5 pulp novels whose titles I can't remember
WINE:
1991 Seavey cabernet
1989 Rabaja Barbaresco
2002 Bouchard Chevalier Montrachet
2002 Luce Abbey cabernet
1994 Pesquera Janus
1970 Palmer
1988 Ch. d'Yquem
2000 Seavey cabernet
2___ Seavey chardonnay
1994 Tinto Pesquera
2003 Behrens & Hitchcock Napa Merlot
2003 Behrens & Hitchcock Alder Springs cuvee
2003 Behrens & Hitchcock Dr. Crane cuvee
2004 Relic syrah
2005 Zeitgeist cabernet
2004 Philip Togni Free Run cabernet (from barrel)
2004 Philip Togni Pressed cabernet (from barrel)
2004 blend in glass of free run and pressed cabernet
2002 Tanbark
2004 Ca Togni (from jar-"barrel")
1996 Beaux Freres pinot noir
2005 GOLD shiraz
Latest list of books and wines experienced:
BOOKS:
EYE AGAINST EYE, poems by Forrest Gander
POP JUNK, poems by Jeff Karl Butler
WHERE X MARKS THE SPOT, poems by Bill Zavatsky
MARIJUANA SOFT DRINK, poems by Buck Downs
THE NAME POEMS by Jeffrey Cyphers Wright
ERRATIC SLEEP IN A COLD HOTEL, poems by Marie Kazalia
AFTER, poems by Jane Hirshfield
MY OWN SILENCE, poems by Jeanne Powell
20/20 YIELDING, poem by Sunnylyn Thibodeaux
LOVE WALKED IN, novel by Marisa de los Santos
FUNNY ABOUT THAT: MORE WONDROUS TALES FROM EVERY AMERICAN'S FAVORITE OTHER STATE--MAINE, essays by John Gould
THE GOOD LIFE, novel by Jay McInerney
5 pulp novels whose titles I can't remember
WINE:
1991 Seavey cabernet
1989 Rabaja Barbaresco
2002 Bouchard Chevalier Montrachet
2002 Luce Abbey cabernet
1994 Pesquera Janus
1970 Palmer
1988 Ch. d'Yquem
2000 Seavey cabernet
2___ Seavey chardonnay
1994 Tinto Pesquera
2003 Behrens & Hitchcock Napa Merlot
2003 Behrens & Hitchcock Alder Springs cuvee
2003 Behrens & Hitchcock Dr. Crane cuvee
2004 Relic syrah
2005 Zeitgeist cabernet
2004 Philip Togni Free Run cabernet (from barrel)
2004 Philip Togni Pressed cabernet (from barrel)
2004 blend in glass of free run and pressed cabernet
2002 Tanbark
2004 Ca Togni (from jar-"barrel")
1996 Beaux Freres pinot noir
2005 GOLD shiraz
Sunday, June 25, 2006
from "The Poet Lives With Mom" series
WHY MARTHA STEWART SUCKS
This domestic goddess bullshit is bullshit.
As Moi stands here before you -- and I am standing in front of a new "standing desk" ordered to help ease the strain on Moi's back and fist-knotted wings -- I can't turn my head without suffering egregious, make that EGREGIOUS, pain. I can't turn left....right....or bow without majorly wincing. Why? Because I have something tortuous sounding in Latin that the doctor translates as "twisted neck".
And how did I twist my neck the Latin way, youse ask?
Because Moi tried something I should know better than to attempt: cook.
To wit, Mom has mostly done a decent (shoot me) job as a parent, but she never taught me how to cook because she didn't cook either until her 30s. (Many Bay Area Pinoy poets know this, hence, their occasional gifts of Filipino food to me -- bless you all. Please continue and you will know why by the end of this post). Anyway, by age 76, Mom did learn to cook and now that she's moved into Moi's house, she's decided it's time to rectify certain of her maternal lapses.
So, there I was, chopping celery, carrots and potatoes into teeny sizes to make lumpia. Which is to say, I was standing in the same position for about 2 hours because we made enough to feed an army or, rather, my mouth.
I moved from that 2-hour chopping position and, YOW, the shooting pain and then the Latin twist.
Shitski.
I continue to be the laughingstock of the clan (oh yes, they'll know as my cousins just departed from visiting):
Hey, did you hear latest?!!! Eileen tried to cook and she ended up hurting herself badly enough to go to the doctor!!!!!!
Bwahahahahahaha!!!!
Very funny. And this is before I mentioned that, among other things, the doctor prescribed 2 weeks of physical therapy and....CODEINE. Codeine, fer crissakes!!!!
Speaking of which,...and she pops that pill...
So you've heard it here: MOI shall never attempt that dangerous trade known as "cooking" ever again!!!!
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go to the bedroom, gingerly, to take an afternoon nap...standing up as I can't lie prone...!!!!
The only good thing about all this is that, based on the smells emanating from that war zone known as my "kitchen," Mom is making me kare kare stew to make me feel better this dinnertime.
...and as she limps off to the bedroom, a sound of tinkling bells waft over Galatea -- that sound of fallen angels laughing so hard they're pissing the golden rain over the mountain...
WHY MARTHA STEWART SUCKS
This domestic goddess bullshit is bullshit.
As Moi stands here before you -- and I am standing in front of a new "standing desk" ordered to help ease the strain on Moi's back and fist-knotted wings -- I can't turn my head without suffering egregious, make that EGREGIOUS, pain. I can't turn left....right....or bow without majorly wincing. Why? Because I have something tortuous sounding in Latin that the doctor translates as "twisted neck".
And how did I twist my neck the Latin way, youse ask?
Because Moi tried something I should know better than to attempt: cook.
To wit, Mom has mostly done a decent (shoot me) job as a parent, but she never taught me how to cook because she didn't cook either until her 30s. (Many Bay Area Pinoy poets know this, hence, their occasional gifts of Filipino food to me -- bless you all. Please continue and you will know why by the end of this post). Anyway, by age 76, Mom did learn to cook and now that she's moved into Moi's house, she's decided it's time to rectify certain of her maternal lapses.
So, there I was, chopping celery, carrots and potatoes into teeny sizes to make lumpia. Which is to say, I was standing in the same position for about 2 hours because we made enough to feed an army or, rather, my mouth.
I moved from that 2-hour chopping position and, YOW, the shooting pain and then the Latin twist.
Shitski.
I continue to be the laughingstock of the clan (oh yes, they'll know as my cousins just departed from visiting):
Hey, did you hear latest?!!! Eileen tried to cook and she ended up hurting herself badly enough to go to the doctor!!!!!!
Bwahahahahahaha!!!!
Very funny. And this is before I mentioned that, among other things, the doctor prescribed 2 weeks of physical therapy and....CODEINE. Codeine, fer crissakes!!!!
Speaking of which,...and she pops that pill...
So you've heard it here: MOI shall never attempt that dangerous trade known as "cooking" ever again!!!!
Now, if you'll excuse me, I have to go to the bedroom, gingerly, to take an afternoon nap...standing up as I can't lie prone...!!!!
The only good thing about all this is that, based on the smells emanating from that war zone known as my "kitchen," Mom is making me kare kare stew to make me feel better this dinnertime.
...and as she limps off to the bedroom, a sound of tinkling bells waft over Galatea -- that sound of fallen angels laughing so hard they're pissing the golden rain over the mountain...
EFFORTLESS RADIANT FEVER
"...given away a lot of rubBEings through time--to friends, in letters, passersby who are interested--anyone--in hopes they provide openings into the world all around us that one doesn't always see, fell, hear, think of....
"nothing is refused--everything is felt as possibility--a way--of opening"
--David Baptiste-Chirot
One of my recent joys has been a conversation with David Baptiste-Chirot. I've always loved his rubBEings series -- one of the most moving art works I've ever experienced. And so I feel blessed to be able to chat directly with him (and can I just say how jazzed I am that he contacted me first because of Galatea Resurrects...!)
Recently, David wrote something that was so stirring that, with no prior intent, I ended up writing an 11-part hay(na)ku sequence inspired by it. I share Parts 5 and 6 below. The words of the poem are primarily David's, which is to say, perhaps my hay(na)ku sequence is my own way of *rubBEing* against his text (?). Anyway, my thanks to David and I recommend you find out more about his works over at Dan Waber's site here.
from
BROWN-ING MOON
(--for David Baptiste-Chirot, whose "AFTER RIMBAUD ILLUMINATIONS" provided inspiration)
5.
Farmhouse in distance.
A few
trees
mark the sky
at twilight.
My
friend is frightened.
He lacks
papers.
A dog barks--
a man
appears.
Inside, they give
us sandwiches
thick
with fresh butter.
6.
Walking continually these
streets and
alleys.
All wall cracks
and road
holes
are known to
me. I
am
the one listening
to peripheral
languages
signaling from hubcaps,
shining metals,
bright
plastics, painted woods.
The construction
site
overwhelms with its
orchestrations of
colors,
sounds, shards--its
chaos and
order
exchanging forms. Melted
snow runs
in
rivulets among smashed stones.
.
"...given away a lot of rubBEings through time--to friends, in letters, passersby who are interested--anyone--in hopes they provide openings into the world all around us that one doesn't always see, fell, hear, think of....
"nothing is refused--everything is felt as possibility--a way--of opening"
--David Baptiste-Chirot
One of my recent joys has been a conversation with David Baptiste-Chirot. I've always loved his rubBEings series -- one of the most moving art works I've ever experienced. And so I feel blessed to be able to chat directly with him (and can I just say how jazzed I am that he contacted me first because of Galatea Resurrects...!)
Recently, David wrote something that was so stirring that, with no prior intent, I ended up writing an 11-part hay(na)ku sequence inspired by it. I share Parts 5 and 6 below. The words of the poem are primarily David's, which is to say, perhaps my hay(na)ku sequence is my own way of *rubBEing* against his text (?). Anyway, my thanks to David and I recommend you find out more about his works over at Dan Waber's site here.
from
BROWN-ING MOON
(--for David Baptiste-Chirot, whose "AFTER RIMBAUD ILLUMINATIONS" provided inspiration)
5.
Farmhouse in distance.
A few
trees
mark the sky
at twilight.
My
friend is frightened.
He lacks
papers.
A dog barks--
a man
appears.
Inside, they give
us sandwiches
thick
with fresh butter.
6.
Walking continually these
streets and
alleys.
All wall cracks
and road
holes
are known to
me. I
am
the one listening
to peripheral
languages
signaling from hubcaps,
shining metals,
bright
plastics, painted woods.
The construction
site
overwhelms with its
orchestrations of
colors,
sounds, shards--its
chaos and
order
exchanging forms. Melted
snow runs
in
rivulets among smashed stones.
.
Saturday, June 24, 2006
THE CITY SLICKER'S HARVEST
This morning, we "harvested" a sprig of basil from the vegetable garden. With six leaves, y'all. It is currently resting at repose on a plate in the refrigerator. Maybe I'll bronze it...
So, I'ma not gonna embarrass Moi by offering a list of the vegetable seeds and plants that she acquired to put into the garden this year. Because such list would only be compared to the list-in-progress of her further "harvests". To wit, to date, this season, your City Slicker thus far can proudfully list her following harvest bounty as follows:
six-leaf sprig of basil
a cherry tomato
a yellow squash
Sigh. And...and it is summer in Galatea...
This morning, we "harvested" a sprig of basil from the vegetable garden. With six leaves, y'all. It is currently resting at repose on a plate in the refrigerator. Maybe I'll bronze it...
So, I'ma not gonna embarrass Moi by offering a list of the vegetable seeds and plants that she acquired to put into the garden this year. Because such list would only be compared to the list-in-progress of her further "harvests". To wit, to date, this season, your City Slicker thus far can proudfully list her following harvest bounty as follows:
six-leaf sprig of basil
a cherry tomato
a yellow squash
Sigh. And...and it is summer in Galatea...
