Events, Musings

I Have a Scary Story-Poem for You!

tumblr_lzkz1ebt5h1r6o3j4o1_500Howl of coyote, whimper of mouse,
Rustle in the grass near the poison oak.
Do you hear what she hears when you go out?
What’s in the silence between each frog’s croak?

Down by the pond where the creatures come
Ghosts in the air and the water shine.
The moon is new in the summer night
And black like the waters of a witch’s wine.

These are some sample lines from the story-poem I will be telling tonight during Ghost Tales at the Territory Tellers annual storytelling event! The Spirit of Oklahoma Storytelling Festival is in its 7th year at Seminole State College in Seminole. The festival starts this afternoon, June 7, and continues on Saturday, June 8 with a full day of stories and events, such as a silent auction, story swaps, and more. Continue reading “I Have a Scary Story-Poem for You!”

Musings

Poems for Tornado Victims

Moore photo, taken by Ken
Moore photo, taken by Ken

Some very well-meaning people are soliciting poems for a poetry anthology to sell to raise funds for Oklahoma tornado victims. Please don’t.

 Material Reason

 Say you manage to sell 100 of these books. The cost of making and shipping them will take up the biggest percentage of the money you get for the books. For a $15 book, you might make a profit of $1. Believe me—I know—I’ve done a lot of self-publishing. So, if you sell 100 books (very lofty goal), you will make $100. Continue reading “Poems for Tornado Victims”

Poems

Merlin at Lessons

merlin-and-arthurHe rarely listened to what I taught
but that is the way. A true teacher learns
early that insisting the student listen
is the surest way to uninsure it.
I would be deep into Lao Tze’s treatise
on warfare, and he would be drawing crude
pictures of what he imagined women dreamt he
might do to them. Fart jokes besides Poetics,
impromptu themes justifying the ways of God
to amoeba in terms only amoeba would understand. Continue reading “Merlin at Lessons”

Poems

Elaine

head-of-a-young-woman-with-tousled-hair-ledaAs a girl I gathered the gooseberries
effortlessly and helped my mother bake the pies.
I knew just how much sugar was needed
for the berries—and I could sense
their taste by lightly squeezing them
and measure the tautness or softness
against the sugar. I was always right.
Women paid my mother to have me
make the pies for their festival
offerings or weddings or homecoming feasts. Continue reading “Elaine”