No Crying in Baseball

Coach always a biding, chiding storm
Players begin gliding, sliding home

NaPoWriMo Prompt Day 20 – Today, I challenge you to write a poem that incorporates the vocabulary and imagery of a specific sport or game. Your poem could invoke chess or baseball, hopscotch or canasta, Monopoly or jai alai. The choice is yours!

Welcome back to day 20 of NaPoWriMo – I decided to work on a Tyburn. Not exactly the easiest form, but let’s all remember, “There’s no crying in baseball.” A League of Their Own was made 25 years ago.


NaPoWriMo Day 18

Leary Trip

Day eighteen of bleary, weary trip
My verse becomes dreary, sneery quip

Me, myself and I at Buffalo State (alma mater)

Me, myself and I at Buffalo State (alma mater)

NaPoWriMo Prompt – And now for our (as always, optional) prompt, which takes us from 2015 back to the 1700s. After all, it’s the eighteenth of April, which means that today is the 240th anniversary of the midnight ride of Paul Revere! Today, in keeping with the theme of rush and warning, I challenge you to write a poem that involves an urgent journey and an important message. It could historical, mythical, entirely fictional, or memoir-ical.

My journey (and it is by no means enhanced by anything more than beery) started at Buffalo State where I earned a BS in English Secondary Education in 1996. When I saw the poetry resource today – Our poetry resource for the day is The Electronic Poetry Center at the University of Buffalo, where you’ll find an extensive online library of resources devoted to electronic, digital, and formally innovative poetry. Including flarf! I knew I had to include a picture from Buffalo. Recently Shawn and I got together with fellow Buff State grads transplanted to the desert at a Coyotes/Sabres game. The first video lesson for the How Writers Write Poetry MOOC talked about bank registers as a type of journal. I noticed the other day I paid for the game with check # 1996, the year we both graduated from Buff State.

Sign for Alumni get together. Photo Credit: Nick Mahoney

Sign for Alumni get together. Photo Credit: Nick Mahoney

It popped out at me because of the MOOC. And may or may not be used in future poetry. Hope everyone enjoys the last 12 days of this poetry trip.

Poetic Constraints – Exercise 9



How Writers Write Poetry lesson for today is Constraint Based Poetry. This morning I already wrote a tyburn poem. The form has a lot of constraints. In fact I had to edit it, because pile is one syllable. I did not mind though. I originally had piled high, but thought piled was two syllables. I was able to go back to the version I preferred.

At the end of the lesson, Christopher Merrill talked about writing a poem that had one word per line and added one letter to each line. So I built a poem with this constraint. For those interested here is an explanation to writing tyburns.

Sorting Laundry – Tyburn

Chores neglected crashing, trashing dirt
Laundry piled high smashing, dashing skirt

Actually I haven’t been neglecting chores. I’ve gotten quite a bit done the past two days, including laundry. Tweetspeak poetry shared 10 laundry poems which was part of the inspiration for this tyburn. The other part was how trashed my house can become when one man is left alone for two weeks.

Southwest Writer’s Conference Wrap up Part 2

When the hour was up for the second workshop, it was time for lunch. Well it was free food provided by Sam’s Club. I’m not going to complain.

The third session I attended was Seven Steps to a Successful Book Launch. Someday if I ever get off my procrastinating butt, I will get a chapbook compiled. I’m ahead of the game for a successful launch. They used to talk about your elevator pitch. If you’re ever in an elevator with an agent or publisher, what is your 30 second spiel. Now it’s what is your 140 character spiel. Yes, social media is our friend. I already share most of my poetry on twitter and facebook.

Aside – my biggest reason for not having a chapbook compiled yet. It’s too much fun replying to weekly/daily challenges on social media. Instant gratification. Also why I enjoy fanfiction – readers reply quickly to a post. Print publishing can take a year or longer before your words reach readers.

This week Micropoetry society’s challenge is #dance

Words waltz to and fro
as pen dances across page
Poetry spills forth

Last night at the #poetparty on twitter, I talked about the tyburns I wrote in October. I was introduced to the form back when we learned the Little One would need surgery on her foot. One of the first tyburns I wrote:

Like pirouette twirling, swirling spin
Life can be a hurling, whirling win

I share both old and new poetry on twitter and facebook. I also submit poems for publishing. When one is rejected, instead of sending it out to another market, I post it. I know I approach writing more as a hobby than a living, but I’m enjoying it. Someone may just have to compile my poetry into a chapbook when I’m gone and done having fun with this writing experiment. In the meantime, I don’t mind sharing my writing via social media. At least I’m not stressing with edits and galleys.

I have seen my words on galley pages. I admit it is cool. But checking over a few pages is a lot less stressful than checking a book. Which brings me to the last keynote speaker of the conference, Jenn McKinlay . Her latest book, Read It and Weep will be released tomorrow. She told us how she almost missed naming the poison. The galleys were already proofed and somehow the poison went unnamed. Now there is a big stressor. The omission was remedied before going to print. McKinlay fans do not panic; the author saved her own neck.

Life can definitely be a hurling, whirling win. On Friday, Nov. 1st, the Little One participated in team day. She scored a win, capturing the other side’s flag and racing it home without being caught. Yes, this was the same little girl in a wheelchair and crutches last year. Look out world; she’s twirling through life again! Although since my big birthday is less than two weeks away now, could someone slow the Earth’s spin a little? Thank You!

Pea Soup Poems

I remember when my Mom made pea soup. My family devoured it. The man I married won’t touch the stuff with a 50 foot pole. I only began making it a couple years ago, when one of my daughters came to her senses and realized pea soup is delicious.

Over the weekend, I picked up some ham hocks and yesterday I set the peas to soaking. The aroma filling my house was torturous. My daughter, lucky girl, has a late class on Mondays and does not come home till close to five o’clock. She came in the door, smelled the soup cooking and wanted to eat right away. I told her it had another hour to cook.

She thought that was pure torture. I told her I was suffering since 2 PM! Having the aroma of pea soup cooking in the house is excellent inspiration. 😀

Wafting through the house
A delicious aroma
Pea soup simmering

And today, I am wasting away my morning waiting to heat up the leftover pea soup for lunch. I thought, wasting and tasting rhyme. Can I come up with two more to make a pea soup tyburn?

Ham hocks flavor wasting, pasting peas
Aroma is basting, tasting tease

Well I’m going to post this. It’s time for lunch.