Posts under ‘poeTRY’

Oh life! Can you blame me for making a scene?

This is one of the poems sent to the people on my National Poetry Month email list back in April.

I hope you take it personally.

Personal

Don’t take it personal, they said;
but I did, I took it all quite personal—

the breeze and the river and the color of the fields;
the price of grapefruit and stamps,

the wet hair of women in the rain—
And I cursed what hurt me

and I praised what gave me joy,
the most simple-minded of possible responses.

The government reminded me of my father,
with its deafness and its laws,

and the weather reminded me of my mom,
with her tropical squalls.

Enjoy it while you can
, they said of Happiness
Think first, they said of Talk

Get over it, they said
at the School of Broken Hearts

but I couldn’t and I didn’t and I don’t
believe in the clean break;

I believe in the compound fracture
served with a sauce of dirty regret,

I believe in saying it all
and taking it all back

and saying it again for good measure
while the air fills up with I’m Sorries

like wheeling birds
and the trees look seasick in the wind.

Oh life! Can you blame me
for making a scene?

You were that yellow caboose, the moon
disappearing over a ridge of cloud.

I was the dog, chained in some fool’s backyard;
barking and barking:

trying to convince everything else
to take it personal too.

-Tony Hoagland

Oh life! Can you blame me for making a scene?

Want a poem a day in April?

Before articles, short stories, and blog posts, I fell in love with poetry.

It started with a poetry book in the Childcraft book series my mom kept in our living room. I memorized poems by interestingly named writers like X.J. Kennedy, Judith Viorst, and Shel Silverstein. Then I’d recite them to anyone who would listen.

I mean, anyone.

Want a poem a day in April?

You have what I look for, what I long for, what I love

I’ve blogged about my dating life in the past tense for almost a year now. It’s not that I haven’t seen new legs do the same dance. It’s not that I haven’t gazed at face after face, wondering which would become the most familiar. I just stopped writing about it.

Honestly, I hesitate to start again. I think some people might be critical of the evolving cast of characters and how leading men fall, understudies take over, and the orchestra occasionally goes on strike. I swear I’m not the only person whose romantic life looks like something out of “A Chorus Line.”

I had this brief thing - thing, because I don’t know what else to call it - at the beginning of the year with a filmmaker. He was so weird and different from anyone I’d ever dated. He brought a Flip camera on our second date, and I thought, “This is the next person I’m going to fall in love with.”

You have what I look for, what I long for, what I love

A thousand “how we met” stories

I have a propensity for interesting interactions with strangers. My college boyfriend thought it was the product of being a young, wide-eyed blonde who made too much of things. Another person I dated figured I was a redhead hunting for something to write about.

But no, I really do think there is something about me that makes some people - usually men, I can admit it - open up. (Also: I’ve decided to leave my hair alone for the time being).

A thousand “how we met” stories

I question the outcome of the outpouring of myself

This is “Art” by Canadian poet/singer/songwriter Tanya Davis. The gorgeous video is by Canadian artist/filmmaker Andrea Dorfman.

I question the outcome of the outpouring of myself

Newspaper blackout poetry

Austin Kleon spent countless commutes to and from work staring at local newspapers. And then something changed. Words started swimming on the page, certain ones standing out like lily pads on a pond. Eventually, he grabbed a permanent marker.

The remarkable words were strung together into lines, stanzas, and ideas different from whatever they originally expressed. The rest of them were blacked out.

Newspaper blackout poetry

Get your Kleon on: Writing newspaper blackout poetry

Here are some tips for getting started on newspaper blackout poetry, plus samples of my work. (You’ll notice I whipped out my best Carmen Miranda look for the occasion).

Newspaper Blackout Poetry from Amanda Green on Vimeo.

Get your Kleon on: Writing newspaper blackout poetry

“Tiny Desks, Big Hearts”

I’ve been reading some poetry again, and this morning I woke up needing to write some. It was as natural as the need to empty my bladder or eat food before I got dressed.

I tried to explain a dream I keep having in this poem called “Tiny Desks, Big Hearts.”

“Tiny Desks, Big Hearts”

If this sounds like the story of life, okay

When I was a kid, I’d sometimes explore the woods behind my house - they belonged to my uncle and were roamed by his four horses. There was a point where the mesquite trees and brush got so thick that the house disappeared. It didn’t take much; it was a small house.

I’d gaze into my backyard from afar and try to really look. The dog shuffled to her water bowl under the outdoor spigot. Our Siamese cat stretched in a tree. My sister carried glasses of iced tea from our kitchen to my dad’s office attached to the garage.

Looking at my home this way made me feel objective and appreciative and rich.

Raymond Carver’s poem “Locking Yourself Out, Then Trying to Get Back In” reminds me of those times:

If this sounds like the story of life, okay

Zone out with your poem out

It’s Poem in Your Pocket Day!

I couldn’t forget about you. (Please excuse the poor editing).

Happy Poem in Your Pocket Day! from Amanda Green on Vimeo.

Zone out with your poem out