Sunday, September 23, 2012

Letters to the World

As fall begins with a chill, the furnace comes on in our house. (My tropical husband is sensitive to the cold.) I've slowed down in the blog, result of a busy summer preparing for a busy fall: some upcoming performances (of a historical nature), a trip to Ohio to help prepare a dance/theatre performance, etc. But as my life and mind scatter, I am also all the more open to synchronicity--some marvelous nonlinear random coincidii too hard to explain--and my heart fills with awe.

So what I'll remark on today is the coincidence that the summer issue of Poemeleon, its Epistolary issue, has come out on the Autumnal Equinox, as mentioned by editor Cati Porter in her letter to her readers on the Table of Contents page. This page will link you to all sorts of wonders, and I have much to read (and have barely got going on the new issue of storySouth! Ah, the busy fall reading starts with a bang!)

I have two poems in the issue, one that resulted from writing some Amnesty International letters with blogger and real life friend, Kim, and from haphazardly planting a cantaloupe in my back yard (it blossomed and twined! but bore no fruit), and one inspired by mutual disappointment and fireworks (and Jiminy Cricket!).

I love the coincidence that my statement above the poems mentions the annual cemetery walk, about to begin at Evergreen Cemetery in Bloomington, Illinois (check Events, at right), and if this issue had come out in the summer, as planned, rather than the fall equinox, as happened, the connection would not have been so pertinent as it is now. Synchronicity.

Isn't it cool that a "poemeleon" is a poem + a chameleon and can resemble anything it needs to resemble, as a poem can resemble a letter, and vice versa. Oh, Emily Dickinson!: "This is my letter to the world..."



Thanks to Wikipedia for the shareable chameleons--the green one (coincidentally female), by Chiswick Chap, and the Madagascar chameleon, above, by Bernard Gagnon. Thanks to Emily Dickinson for the coincidence of her eyes.

9 comments:

Sandy Longhorn said...

Wonderful poems, Kathleen, and a beautiful last sentence to this post.

Maureen said...

Always such a pleasure to read your poems, Kathleen. Congratulations.

Kathleen said...

Thanks, Sandy and Maureen! And thanks for writing your letters to the world, and for your eyes!

seana graham said...

I particularly like that second poem, Kathleen.

"...but still we breathe
the sulfur of our disappointments in the smoky night..."

Terrific.

Kathleen said...

Thanks, Seana!

Collagemama said...

Love your lizards and thanks for the inspiration. I'm working with a special needs student who is fond of reptiles, and you've pushed me to expand our creative connection into poetry.

Kathleen said...

I thought you might like these chameleons, Nancy! I'm delighted that the poems work for you, too!!

Molly said...

Congrats on these lovely poems! I just love "That bright hope stays /
the way sparklers whirled in the dark"

Kathleen said...

Thank you, Molly!