Wruth's Writings and Art

[Ruth]

All this reminds me of the movement here in the US called Cowboy Poetry. It's a world unto itself.
Legacy of the Rodeo Man
by Baxter Black

There's a hundred years of history and a hundred before that
All gathered in the thinkin' goin' on beneath his hat.
And back behind his eyeballs and pumpin' through his veins
Is the ghost of every cowboy that ever held the reins...

http://www.cowboypoetry.com/yours.htm...

[Ruth]

Connecticut River Review has accepted my poem, Meadow Vista. It's about my mother as she was fading away, and is written in the form of a pantoum, a poem wherein each stanza repeats two lines from the preceding stanza, and the last stanza circles back to repeat the 2 unrepeated lines from the first stanza.

The repetitive form of the pantoum made me think of my mother's repetitive behavior as she sank into dementia.

[Debbie, sardonic princess of cheerfulness]

L&G's Poet Laureate garners another bouquet! Congrats Ruth.....love to see it sometime (I am assuming it is not the one you have posted previously about your mother?).

[Ken, Moderator]

Hey, my home state. Clearly I had something to do with it (what, I don't know... but give me time). Congratulations, Ruth. Incredibly, I, too, had a poem accepted this week at a Maine literary journal. You're inspiring me here!

[Ruth]

Thanks, Gabi. The poem's not here. Now that it's been accepted for publication, it's not cricket for me to jump the gun and put it up on the public internet before the journal comes out.

Thanks, Deb. It's not the poem here. That one was published in RE:AL. I have enough poems about my mother's slide into dementia to make a book. I need to get myself in gear and put one together.

You got published, NE? And you didn't come here to crow about it? Where? And tell us about your poem.

BTW, Connecticut was my mom's home state, too. Wallack's Point, near Stamford.

[Debbie, sardonic princess of cheerfulness]

You dark horse NE!!!! Oh yes....that's right.....we already knew that! How old are you again? And where is your pic?!!

[Ken, Moderator]

Dark horse? A book by Agatha Christie, no? (Or maybe that horse was pale.)

Anyway, NO, I'm not published (yet). It was accepted this week but won't be in the journal until Fall '09 (that is, if the journal survives that long -- you know how these things go). The pay is one copy of the journal. (Is it becoming clearer now? This is NOT The New Yorker we're talking.)

Ruth! Stamford? Well, where I'm from that counts as New York (the Gold Coast, they call it). I'm from the poor side of the river (east of the Connecticut R., that is). Anyway, that's down near Redding, and Mark Twain's second CT house was in Redding (Stormfield, it was called -- it burned down).

OK. That's it. Back to dark horsiness for me. I'm leaving the limelight for the REAL poet here -- Writing Wruth.

[Ruth]

Newengland wrote: "won't be in the journal until Fall '09 (that is, if the journal survives that long -- you know how these things go). The pay is one copy of the journal. (Is it becoming clearer now?."

And you think the journals I'm in are in a different pay scale? Ha!

Yeah, I think my mother lived a pretty ritzy childhood. Cook, chaffeur, big house on the Sound, tennis courts, sailboat...

You'd never know from knowing her---all she wanted to do was run around the foothills and desert in her jeans. She taught me to love the library and how to shingle a roof.

[Ruth]

The new issue of ARS MEDICA is out. It’s a biannual literary journal, started in 2004. It’s quite an interesting journal that explores the interface between the arts and medicine with fiction, nonfiction, poetry. The current issue has my poem, Twice a Year Now, written as a response to a mammogram not long after surgery.

Website is http://www.utpjournals.com/ars/ars.html , but you won’t find my poem there.

[Ruth]

Yes, it's a printed journal.

[Savvy]

Ruth,

I'd love to see your Pantoum when it comes out.
I know the rule about not having poems anywhere out
there on the Internet before being published!

I did a ton of Villanelles and a few Pantoums a couple of years ago while going through a crisis of sorts with my daughter...it helped me to focus and keep my sanity.
They are both wonderful, engaging forms!

I need to re-visit my muse!

[Ruth]

Thanks, Susanne. The Connecticut River Review with my poem in it is supposed to be out in Aug 2009. I hear word that they're usually prompt.

I took a workshop on the pantoum with Cecilia Woloch, whose pantoum was in Best American Poetry 2005. Have you read it?

BAREBACK PANTOUM

One night, bareback and young, we rode through the woods
and the woods were on fire —
two borrowed horses, two local boys
whose waists we clung to, my sister and I

and the woods were on fire —
the pounding of hooves and the smell of smoke and the sharp sweat of boys
whose waists we clung to, my sister and I,
as we rode toward flame with the sky in our mouths —

the pounding of hooves and the smell of smoke and the sharp sweat of boys
and the heart saying: mine
as we rode toward flame with the sky in our mouths —
the trees turning gold, then crimson, white

and the heart saying: mine
of the wild, bright world;
the trees turning gold, then crimson, white
as they burned in the darkness, and we were girls

of the wild, bright world
of the woods near our house — we could turn, see the lights
as they burned in the darkness, and we were girls
so we rode just to ride

through the woods near our house — we could turn, see the lights
and the horses would carry us, carry us home
so we rode just to ride,
my sister and I, just to be close to that danger, desire

and the horses would carry us, carry us home
— two borrowed horses, two local boys,
my sister and I — just to be close to that danger, desire —
one night, bareback and young, we rode through the woods.

[Ken, Moderator]

Congrats on the coup. CT RIVER REVIEW is on my hit list of small lit. mags in New England. I opted, though, for three that take electronic submission (so much easier).

And wow -- you get TWO copies of the magazine for payment. My Sept. publication reward is only ONE.

[Ruth]

The word pantoum comes from someplace in SE Asia. I don't remember exactly where, Gabi.

You nailed it on the form. That's exactly how it goes.
Sort of related to the villanelle, what with the repetition, but I think the villanelle is harder.

Four lines is a quatrain.

Hey, NE, I hear from Cecilia that CRR is a good one. Submit, submit, submit. Name of the game, says she who hasn't submitted anywhere for almost a month.

[Ken, Moderator]

I know, I know. I've got to accept that a lot of these mags do it the old-fashioned annoying way. SASEs, that means.

Gabi, you should try one and publish in the writing section of your profile. Then invite us over for tea.

[Savvy]

Gabi wrote: "OK! Gimme a Villanelle, if ya please. This is interesting. Its a bit like crosswords with poetry."

Gabi...what a great description!
I love crosswords and the Villanelles just spilled out smoothly....But...I was glad to finally have a "villanelle-less" day! IT worked its magic on my brain and stilled the angst when I needed it though.

Here's a very famous Villanelle by Sylvia Plath

MAD GIRL'S LOVE SONG
Sylvia Plath

"I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.

I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)"
--------------------------------------------------

And... of course the very well know from Dylan Thomas....

DO NOT GO GENTLE INTO THAT GOOD NIGHT

Do not go gentle into that good night,
Old age should burn and rave at close of day;
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Though wise men at their end know dark is right,
Because their words had forked no lightning they
Do not go gentle into that good night.

Good men, the last wave by, crying how bright
Their frail deeds might have danced in a green bay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

Wild men who caught and sang the sun in flight,
And learn, too late, they grieved it on its way,
Do not go gentle into that good night.


Grave men, near death, who see with blinding sight
Blind eyes could blaze like meteors and be gay,
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

And you, my father, there on the sad height,
Curse, bless, me now with your fierce tears, I pray.
Do not go gentle into that good night.
Rage, rage against the dying of the light.

[Ruth]

I have a friend who calls these "little villains" because they're so difficult to write.

NE, I'm not quite sure electronic submissions are the blessing they seem to be. Seems to me they're a bit too easy for the recipient to flush. At least the paper stuff lies around for a bit, perhaps to be reconsidered, whilst waiting to be stuffed into the SASE.

They sure are easier, tho.

[Savvy]

Ruth wrote: "I have a friend who calls these "little villains" because they're so difficult to write."

Ruth, I was enrolled in an on-line poetry course when I learned the form.
For me, they flowed much easier than free verse. I needed the structure.
Also, I credit the fabulous teacher, KATE LIGHT for showing me much of the light!

Here's a link to her website and one of her Villanelles...

KATE


AFTER THE SEASON


Do not talk to me just now; let me be.

We were up to our ears in pain and loss, and so

I am reuniting all the lovers, fishing the drowned from the sea.



I am removing daggers from breasts and re-

zipping. Making it clear who loves whom—please go.

Do not talk to me just now; let me be.



I am redistributing flowers and potions and flutes, changing key;

rewriting letters, pulling spring out of the snow.

I am reuniting all the lovers, fishing the drowned from the sea.



I am making madness sane, setting prisoners free,

cooling the consumptive cheek, the fevered glow.

Do not talk to me just now; let me be.



Pinkerton and Butterfly make such a happy

couple; Violetta has five gardens now to show ...

I am reuniting all the lovers, fishing the drowned from the sea.



The jester and his daughter have moved to a distant city.

Lucia colors her hair now, did you know?

Come, let us talk, sit together and be

lovers reunited, fished like the drowned from the sea.



Kate Light

[Savvy]

Ruth or NE or Paul Newman or anyone.

I would like to learn the Haiku form, but there seems to be quite a few different opinions on the Internet as to which form is the most pure ...in English anyway.

Do you have a good link or info to help me out?

TIA,
Susanne

[Ruth]

I can't help you there, Susanne. I've never been much interested in writing haiku. I do know that they consist of 3 lines, with 5, 7, 5, syllables each. But that there are some people who believe that the syllables thing can't really be transferred to English because of the way such syllable-like things work in Japanese.

I'd suggest a googlehunt.

[Ken, Moderator]

Ditto. My research is that 3 lines, 5-7-5 syllables, is the traditional way, but many (as is their wont in modern times) just throw that out and do a 3 (hell, I've even seen 4) line thingy, often with the middle line simply longer. Also, it's supposed to focus on nature and have a "break" between one line and the other two (sometimes 2/1 and sometimes 1/2 for the break).

And Ruth, I hope you're wrong on the paper chase theory. Plus, May brings the end of many reading periods for all of those "university-related" literary mags like the CRR.

[Ruth]

Yes, soon cometh the end of submissions to university pubs until fall. I try to keep the ball rolling in the summer by submitting to non-U publications. I often have better luck with them anyway. Sometimes I think I'm not cerebral enough for the Graduate English Department.

Susanne, who is Kate Light? Nice villanelle. But you forgot the link.

Actually, I feel about pantoums the way you feel about villanelles. I haven't written many, but I like the way structure can sometimes give freedom.

[Savvy]

Ruth,
Link is up there before the villanelle....click on KATE...she is a multi talented artist, as she is also a professional violinist in NYC.

[Ken, Moderator]

Structure is the end of me. All my poesy is freer-than-it-ought-to-be verse.

[Ruth]

Thanks, Susanne. I didn't realize that was the link.

NE, when I was in grad school we spent some time in one of my seminars considering how the imposition of structure sometimes elicits more creativity than complete freedom.

I think it's because instead of being cast out there in the wild blue yonder and floating around with no direction, the mind responds to restrictions. They give us something immediate to focus on. I think that's why I often write my best poetry in response to a prompt in a workshop.

[Ruth]

My poem, Turn the Radio Off, appears in the Summer 2009 issue of Main Channel Voices:A Dam Fine Literary Magazine.

[Ken, Moderator]

Yay. Congrats!

[Ruth]

Thanks, NE. It's a small publication this time.

[Ken, Moderator]

All publications are big in my eyes. It's PUBLICATION, after all. A vote of confidence in another's eyes.

[Debbie, sardonic princess of cheerfulness]

Hear hear!!
Congratulations Ruth.....electronic bouquet on its way!!

[Ruth]

Electronic thanks, Debbie.

[Ruth]

Photos of the solar eclipse
Fantastic!

http://www.boston.com/bigpicture/2009...

[Ken, Moderator]

I see you read the Globe, too!

[Ruth]

Actually not. A friend sent me the link.

[Ruth]

I made a resolution that I would write as nice a piece about our cabin, where I am now, as NE did about his. You see how far that's gotten me.

Nevertheless I wanted you to see what I saw out the window about an hour ago.



The apple tree was a volunteer many years ago. I wrote a poem about when it first appeared how my mother, the landscape designer and her friend Bob, the nurseryman examined the leaves and the growth habit and declared it to be a water birch. I'd like to post it here, but alas, it's on my computer at home.

I don't know why the picture's so small. I must be doing something wrong with the image thingie on this very old computer.

[Ken, Moderator]

Small or not, it's clear to see. Deer me. Momma's so much bigger.

While riding my bike on Thursday, I spied a doe and her fawn in the road ahead uphill with their backs to me. Like your little ones, the fawn was just old enough to have lost his white side spots (so cute, I admit... without the spots, they become just a little deer).

On that same trip, I rode under a redtail hawk up on the telephone wire looking down into a field with intense concentration and patience. I was incredulous that he did not move with me riding practically below him. He must have been one hungry hawk.

No poems, though. And we'd love to read the poem, Ruth.

[Ruth]

These fawns still had their spots, the picture's just too little for you to see them.

The poem? You'll have to wait until I get home.

[[deleted user]]

Ruth, I truly envy your view from the window..magical

[Ken, Moderator]

Yes, it looks like Sherwood (or perhaps wouldn't) Forest, n'est-ce pas?

[[deleted user]]

I wouldn't share..

[Ruth]

Actually, this is the view.

[[deleted user]]

Ruth! NOW.. You're showing off! Incredible, no wonder your poetry is so inspired..

[Debbie, sardonic princess of cheerfulness]

Nearly as lovely as GodZoNe!

[[deleted user]]

Ah..but you have to prove it..with a pic Debs..

[Ken, Moderator]

If I'd the knowledge of such modern truck, I'd upload a pic of my front lawn (a lake which requires no mowing) and my back (a pine forest with the same lovely trait).

Only it's mine for but a week. Then it's back to a more mundane setting in a more mundane state with a more mundane task set before me. Methinks mundane should be the word for the day.

[[deleted user]]

What I'd give to see a fawn,
aren't they the most perfect little creature. I have bats!! not quite the same 'cuddlesome' factor although they do have tiny teddy bear faces..and swoop around you when it's almost dark.

[[deleted user]]

Poor NE! you don't sound like you're 'biting at the bit' to get back to school..

[Ken, Moderator]

Oh, I'm fine once I'm there. And, truth be told, there's always a bit of excitement and hope about a new year wherein I'll try new ideas and such. It's just that I focus on what I'm losing for the moment.

"Pay no attention to that man behind the pine tree!" (from The Wizard of Oz)

[Savvy]

Boooootiful Ruth!
I've tried a couple of times to add an image and am not "tech savvy' enough to get it right. Any suggestions?
The html for pictures here doesn't seem work for me.

[Ruth]

Susanne, you can't just add an image here. The image has to be somewhere on the internet. I use photobucket.com. When you've done that you can link to it to get it to appear here. Use

(img src="paste link here") only use <> instead of ()