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.

These People

It's Thor's Day in the blog, the day that, if I had a hammer, I'd hammer out protest songs in the morning, etc., all over this land. I'd sing out, "Justice!" I'd sing out, "Listen!" I'd sing out, well, yes, "Love between my brothers and my sisters....!" Thank you, Pete Seeger and Lee Hays.

And thank you to these people, who represent the 47% that Mitt Romney said he doesn't care about*, who are writing letters to him over at the We Represent the 47 Percent blog. And thanks to Juliana Baggott, who started it. And if you'd like to write a letter and submit it, you can, too!

*"those people"

And/or, take up your own hammer, banjo, or blog, and say or do whatever you need to say or do. "We're all in this together."

And, if you are at a new address, or newly able to vote, remember to register before October 9 to be able to vote on November 6.

(And find out if you are going to need a photo ID at the voting booth! Sigh....)

Heron Tree

Probably some of you have seen a tree full of herons. I saw one once in a wetlands area on the way to an away volleyball tournament. Wooee, I can already tell it's a Random Coinciday in the blog, as well as a Fat Tuesday of yummy news, mainly about Heron Tree, a new poetry journal.

Thanks to Chris Harshaw for the grey heron!

The editors of Heron Tree are Sandy Longhorn, Chris Campolo, and Rebecca Resinski.  Sandy Longhorn is a poet I met in the blogosphere, featured at Escape Into Life, and then got to meet in person at the AWP (Association of Writers and Writing Programs) Conference in Chicago this year! She blogs at Myself the Only Kangaroo Among the Beauty, an Emily Dickinson-ism!

If you are a poet, you will want to submit work, according to the Heron Tree guidelines, between now and December 1st!

It's often good to send early in a reading period, and early in the life of a journal, so hop to it (as the Kangaroo might say!)!

Thanks to Fir0002/Flagstaffotos for the Kangaroo and Joey!

And thanks to Wikipedia, as always, and in general, for info on the heron, Heron (or Hero) of Alexandria, and the apricots, chosen for their yumminess and because Heron Tree uses the Apricot theme at their website. (I told you it was a Random Coinciday!) "Heron of Alexandria?" you may be asking. "Who's he?"

He's the inventor of the steam engine, the windmill, and the syringe! Plus, this impressive geometrical equation, known as Heron's formula!

Made for TV

It's a beautiful, almost-fall day. Cool fall temperatures blew in suddenly the other day as my husband attempted to finish mowing the back yard, after a lawnmower mishap + repair (spark plug popped out). He had to put on a jacket, take off a cable, duct tape it to an older mower, etc., but the newly lush lawn got mowed, and today, as I say in the poem, "Made for TV," newly up in storySouth, "Blue / sky asserts itself."

I am tickled to be in the issue, you bet, and look forward to reading everything in it. I am very impressed with this online journal, so elegant and so well organized and easy to navigate! There's even a fabulous author index for reading the archives.

"Made for TV" is a sort of free-verse pantoum, using flexible repetition and enjambment to do what Hollywood does, and, furthermore, television movies:

Hollywood moves things around
to tell its own story
its own way.  All we can do is forgive.

And so on. The poem brings together the changing leaves, my hunting/target-practice neighbors, and a friend's breast cancer diagnosis. (But it's not a made-for-tv movie.)

In the same issue is "Beason," a persona poem I've been working on for years. It was written, but then a horrible murder happened in Beason, so I set it aside, not to add trouble to that portion of the universe, even in my mind, and I've adjusted it since to become something else, but still something oddly redemptive, I hope.

Meanwhile, the harvest--even if it must be meager, after the drought--has begun.

Corn, Peach, Melon, Ceramic Jar by Jonathan Koch, and thanks to him, again, for permission to share it.

Co-Exist

Yesterday, September 11, I carried on with the day's activities and observed blog silence, leaving up Blue Monday's Group Hug, quiet solace after our local trauma. I didn't know yet about the death of Ambassador Chris Stevens (on September 11), very sad news. Also sad: the immediate politicization of it in the USA in terms of the upcoming election, rather than its own larger context and its personal contexts of grief.

Group hug.

Then I went to Facebook to retrieve this Coexist image for you, because of how it fits current events and because of the coincidence of seeing the slogan on a license plate (from Kansas) last night at a restaurant after an away volleyball game.

But, first, I encountered a link to an article at xojane written by my niece, Jessa, about...being dumped by a meme: "It Happened to Me: I Got Dumped by a Meme." Read it. Then you'll know everything.

Her blog is in my blogroll, Bowl of Bees, where you'll find more of her wonderful writing, and some vegetarian recipes and fun fashion. Her ex-boyfriend's blog used to be on my blogroll, too, but that was before he was a meme-who-dumped-her. But I wish him well with his short fiction, just as I wish Jessa well with her writing and her stand-up comedy. But I love her, and am loyal to her! He'll get along just fine without my support. He's got that typewriter, and, apparently, a new girlfriend.

Nonetheless, I'm sure we can co-exist.

And, finally, on this Hump of the Week Poetry Someday Random Coinciday, the new poetry feature is up at Escape Into Life: Jill Khoury. Poems that squeeze and wrench the heart, and arresting photographs by Viktoria Sorochinski.