Explicating the Poetic Process

My writing process saves a fair percentage of time
for self-doubt and lack of artistic confidence.”

It starts with an encounter. There is a notarized mammal, a dead serpent, and a preserved misspelling. Then a mythical flash of inspiration, the grabbing for tool and template, and the clumsy yet magical act of documentation. Just like the muses prophesized. Read more:

More often than not, the process begins with a mistake.

This feature appeared in the May 14 2018 issue of Woven Tail Press‘s website.

Lost and Translation

I found these poems sandwiched between the pages of The Hand of the Poet: Poems and Papers in Manuscript, a beautiful volume of drafts and redrafts from poets like Julia Alvarez and Philip Levine, Robert Frost and Allen Ginsberg. At the time, I knew this would be an appropriate place for this little copied and folded mini manuscript. Luckily, I found it again.

The tanka was published years ago in Modern English Tanka, and I can’t remember how my little cricket song was translated into Russian, or how I came across Jefi-Jun’s version. Lost, then found. translation tanka

Five lines

Years ago, when I fell into what is sometimes referred to as “writer’s block,” I found an outlet in haiku, tanka, cinquain, and other short form poems. I made a pledge to myself to write three lines a day, sometimes five. I was able to keep it up for over a year, until the file folder, neatly titled “haiku a day” was inadvertently sucked into the cyber trash.

I’ve been in a little bit of a rut lately, so here is day 1 of the new “five lines a day” folder.

 
no mind for words, no
sink hole to burrow or free
unforgivable limbs
from pen caps whose plastic scratches
leave no trace of helpful blood

poem in your pocket