Jimmy Pappas's Blog - Posts Tagged "personal-experiences"
Falling off the Empire State Building, Part 1
Falling off the Empire State Building, Part 1
My chapbook of poems called Falling off the Empire State Building was one of three winners of the Rattle Chapbook Contest for 2019. We were selected out of 1,404 chapbook entries. That is a huge number of entries to be selected from. The three chapbook winners will be mailed free to all 7,000 Rattle subscribers. Mine will be the last one mailed in March 2020. We also receive a $2,000 prize. It is such a humbling experience.
It is hard to imagine so many strangers reading my poems. Paperback books with my name on it will be passed around across the United States and parts of the world. It is very hard to fathom. I cannot help but wonder what will be said on social media. I think it will be positive because the poems are accessible for the most part and relate to experiences many will recognize.
Here is a link to the post of the three winners:
https://www.rattle.com/chapbooks/c201...
I definitely have to stay alive until next March. What a thrill it will be to go to the mailbox and get a copy. I also wonder what the cover will look like. I am sure I will be happy with whatever the artist comes up with. I will also receive 500 copies to sell at readings. I hope to continue to do many readings in the next few years.
My chapbook of poems called Falling off the Empire State Building was one of three winners of the Rattle Chapbook Contest for 2019. We were selected out of 1,404 chapbook entries. That is a huge number of entries to be selected from. The three chapbook winners will be mailed free to all 7,000 Rattle subscribers. Mine will be the last one mailed in March 2020. We also receive a $2,000 prize. It is such a humbling experience.
It is hard to imagine so many strangers reading my poems. Paperback books with my name on it will be passed around across the United States and parts of the world. It is very hard to fathom. I cannot help but wonder what will be said on social media. I think it will be positive because the poems are accessible for the most part and relate to experiences many will recognize.
Here is a link to the post of the three winners:
https://www.rattle.com/chapbooks/c201...
I definitely have to stay alive until next March. What a thrill it will be to go to the mailbox and get a copy. I also wonder what the cover will look like. I am sure I will be happy with whatever the artist comes up with. I will also receive 500 copies to sell at readings. I hope to continue to do many readings in the next few years.
Falling off the Empire State Building, Part 2
Falling off the Empire State Building, Part 2
I had a full manuscript of poems in a collection I titled Falling off the Empire Building. To enter a contest at the journal Rattle for a chapbook, I had to whittle it down to only 25 or so pages. That was less than half of the poems. But I wanted to enter the contest, and I really believed in the collection.
I love the title. I wonder what most people will think of it. My guess is they will connect it to King Kong's death in the movie where he leaves Fay Wray down on the top of the Empire State Building before he falls to his death. That was such a great scene. The Beast dies for his love of the Beauty. Maybe readers will bring something from King Kong to their reading. I don't know.
Here is the story where I actually got the title from. When the Empire State Building was being built, workers sometimes fell to their deaths. A line of new workers waited to take the place of the fallen construction workers. So every time someone died a new man would take his place. Sounds horrible. Here's the thing: It is not true, but I believed it for a while. I even told some students in an English class it was true. Then I checked it out and found out it was an urban legend.
In the following years, I kept telling the story and explaining to the class some thoughts about critical thinking skills. They learned three things: 1. Always check your facts. 2. Even Mr. Pappas can make mistakes, but not many. 3. Facts are real. That lesson is needed now more than ever with our current President of the United States.
The story became a metaphor for me about my father working in a factory. It was a job he did not want to have. He was an artist. He went to Boston Art School. He was creative and mathematical. But he lived in an immigrant family. He needed to support his brothers. He needed to support his own children. So he kept working there. It was like he was a man falling off the Empire State Building.
Here is the link with the winners of the contest. On March 1, 2020, Rattle editors will send out 7,000 copies of my chapbook free to all of its subscribers. Seven thousand! Amazing.
https://www.rattle.com/chapbooks/c201...
I had a full manuscript of poems in a collection I titled Falling off the Empire Building. To enter a contest at the journal Rattle for a chapbook, I had to whittle it down to only 25 or so pages. That was less than half of the poems. But I wanted to enter the contest, and I really believed in the collection.
I love the title. I wonder what most people will think of it. My guess is they will connect it to King Kong's death in the movie where he leaves Fay Wray down on the top of the Empire State Building before he falls to his death. That was such a great scene. The Beast dies for his love of the Beauty. Maybe readers will bring something from King Kong to their reading. I don't know.
Here is the story where I actually got the title from. When the Empire State Building was being built, workers sometimes fell to their deaths. A line of new workers waited to take the place of the fallen construction workers. So every time someone died a new man would take his place. Sounds horrible. Here's the thing: It is not true, but I believed it for a while. I even told some students in an English class it was true. Then I checked it out and found out it was an urban legend.
In the following years, I kept telling the story and explaining to the class some thoughts about critical thinking skills. They learned three things: 1. Always check your facts. 2. Even Mr. Pappas can make mistakes, but not many. 3. Facts are real. That lesson is needed now more than ever with our current President of the United States.
The story became a metaphor for me about my father working in a factory. It was a job he did not want to have. He was an artist. He went to Boston Art School. He was creative and mathematical. But he lived in an immigrant family. He needed to support his brothers. He needed to support his own children. So he kept working there. It was like he was a man falling off the Empire State Building.
Here is the link with the winners of the contest. On March 1, 2020, Rattle editors will send out 7,000 copies of my chapbook free to all of its subscribers. Seven thousand! Amazing.
https://www.rattle.com/chapbooks/c201...
Falling off the Empire State Building, An Act of Love
Falling off the Empire State Building, An Act of Love
I just finished reading my first review for my new chapbook from Rattle. I found it interesting because the reviewer called it "Mostly poems about dying." I thought just the opposite. I thought they were mostly poems about love. We all have to die. I lived in a family that was not afraid to talk about death and not afraid to face death head on. The love comes from being there when our loved ones are dying. The old expression about "surrounded by family and friends" was very important to us. We wanted to be there if at all possible. That's where the love part comes in. And that, my friends, is the most important part of dying. I always consider it an honor and an act of love to be at someone's deathbed.
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/5...
I just finished reading my first review for my new chapbook from Rattle. I found it interesting because the reviewer called it "Mostly poems about dying." I thought just the opposite. I thought they were mostly poems about love. We all have to die. I lived in a family that was not afraid to talk about death and not afraid to face death head on. The love comes from being there when our loved ones are dying. The old expression about "surrounded by family and friends" was very important to us. We wanted to be there if at all possible. That's where the love part comes in. And that, my friends, is the most important part of dying. I always consider it an honor and an act of love to be at someone's deathbed.
https://www.goodreads.com/book/show/5...
Pushcart Nomination from Rattle for "The Gray Man"
PUSHCART NOMINATION FROM RATTLE FOR "THE GRAY MAN"
I received a nomination for the Pushcart Prize from the journal Rattle. It was a special thrill because they receive so many poems every year and can only select six poems to nominate. More importantly, it was a chance to share a deeply personal story that resonated with many people who do not even know me. That is always a great feeling for a writer.
The poem is based on my visit to see my father in a nursing home where he was placed because he had Parkinson's Disease, and we did not have enough family members who could take care of him. An important section of this long poem is my effort to say "I love you" to my father. Love was always understood and not something spouted off to each other in our family. Yet there was never any doubt about that love.
In section one, I use the metaphor of trying to read the subtitles on an Ingmar Bergman movie which used to be blocked out when someone on screen was wearing white. Thus, while I was staring at my father's sleeping body on his bed, I was trying to comprehend our life together by staring at the white sheets. I am very proud of that metaphor. There is always the question of whether or not my audience knows what I am talking about. I guess an author cannot worry about that.
Here is a link to the news and the poem itself:
https://www.rattle.com/info/news/
I received a nomination for the Pushcart Prize from the journal Rattle. It was a special thrill because they receive so many poems every year and can only select six poems to nominate. More importantly, it was a chance to share a deeply personal story that resonated with many people who do not even know me. That is always a great feeling for a writer.
The poem is based on my visit to see my father in a nursing home where he was placed because he had Parkinson's Disease, and we did not have enough family members who could take care of him. An important section of this long poem is my effort to say "I love you" to my father. Love was always understood and not something spouted off to each other in our family. Yet there was never any doubt about that love.
In section one, I use the metaphor of trying to read the subtitles on an Ingmar Bergman movie which used to be blocked out when someone on screen was wearing white. Thus, while I was staring at my father's sleeping body on his bed, I was trying to comprehend our life together by staring at the white sheets. I am very proud of that metaphor. There is always the question of whether or not my audience knows what I am talking about. I guess an author cannot worry about that.
Here is a link to the news and the poem itself:
https://www.rattle.com/info/news/
"I Buried You on a Bright Red Tricycle"
"I Buried You on a Bright Red Tricycle" on Dime Show Review
My poem "I Buried You on a Bright Red Tricycle" was published in Dime Show Review in 2017. They always did an excellent job of posting wonderful pictures with all of their poetry. I have just learned that the journal has folded. So for the last time I am posting a link to my poem and celebrating a great journal. Take the time to look the journal over if you wish. It will be there until some time in 2022 when it will disappear forever. Just like those we lose in life.
Here is the link:
https://www.dimeshowreview.com/i-buri...
My poem "I Buried You on a Bright Red Tricycle" was published in Dime Show Review in 2017. They always did an excellent job of posting wonderful pictures with all of their poetry. I have just learned that the journal has folded. So for the last time I am posting a link to my poem and celebrating a great journal. Take the time to look the journal over if you wish. It will be there until some time in 2022 when it will disappear forever. Just like those we lose in life.
Here is the link:
https://www.dimeshowreview.com/i-buri...
"Human Compasses"
"Human Compasses"
My poem "Human Compasses" has been published in the journal Songs of Eretz on the theme of circles. I included in my poem stories about the painter Giotto and the metaphysical poet John Donne.
Giotto (1267-1337) was an Italian painter who impressed Pope Benedict XI with his ability to draw a red circle without the assistance of compasses. When the Benedict sent a messenger to Giotto, asking him to send a drawing to demonstrate his skill, Giotto drew a red circle so perfect that it seemed as though it was drawn using a pair of compasses and instructed the messenger to send it to the Pope. The messenger departed believing that he had been made a fool of. The messenger brought other artists' drawings back to the Pope in addition to Giotto's. When the messenger related how Giotto had made the circle without moving his arm and without the aid of compasses the Pope and his courtiers were amazed at how Giotto's skill greatly surpassed all of his contemporaries.
John Donne (1572-1631) wrote the famous metaphor of love being like a compass maintaining contact in spite of his travel away from his wife to Europe. In Donne's poem "A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning," Donne tells his wife that they will still be connected because they are like the two legs of a compass.
As an old man Donne wrapped himself in a shroud and had a statue made of himself. He would stare at it for hours to see what he looked like dead. On a visit to St.Paul's Cathedral, I asked to see the statue, which survived the Great Fire. No one knew what I was talking about until a security guard finally showed me where it was. I felt like I was actually able to see the great metaphysical poet.
Both of those famous people are included in my poem "Human Compasses." It can be found at this link only if you scroll down quite a bit.
http://www.songsoferetz.com/
My poem "Human Compasses" has been published in the journal Songs of Eretz on the theme of circles. I included in my poem stories about the painter Giotto and the metaphysical poet John Donne.
Giotto (1267-1337) was an Italian painter who impressed Pope Benedict XI with his ability to draw a red circle without the assistance of compasses. When the Benedict sent a messenger to Giotto, asking him to send a drawing to demonstrate his skill, Giotto drew a red circle so perfect that it seemed as though it was drawn using a pair of compasses and instructed the messenger to send it to the Pope. The messenger departed believing that he had been made a fool of. The messenger brought other artists' drawings back to the Pope in addition to Giotto's. When the messenger related how Giotto had made the circle without moving his arm and without the aid of compasses the Pope and his courtiers were amazed at how Giotto's skill greatly surpassed all of his contemporaries.
John Donne (1572-1631) wrote the famous metaphor of love being like a compass maintaining contact in spite of his travel away from his wife to Europe. In Donne's poem "A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning," Donne tells his wife that they will still be connected because they are like the two legs of a compass.
As an old man Donne wrapped himself in a shroud and had a statue made of himself. He would stare at it for hours to see what he looked like dead. On a visit to St.Paul's Cathedral, I asked to see the statue, which survived the Great Fire. No one knew what I was talking about until a security guard finally showed me where it was. I felt like I was actually able to see the great metaphysical poet.
Both of those famous people are included in my poem "Human Compasses." It can be found at this link only if you scroll down quite a bit.
http://www.songsoferetz.com/
