Treasuring Poetry – Michael Cheadle talks about poetry and a review
Posted: May 15, 2024 Filed under: Books, Collection, Interview, Poetry, Treasuring Poetry | Tags: Interview, Michael Cheadle, Poetry, Robbie Cheadle, Square Peg in a Round Hole, Treasuring Poetry, Writing to be Read 56 CommentsWhat is your favourite style of poetry to read?
I like freestyle. This is the style of most of the poems I have learned about at school and it is my favourite style to write. I like the freedom and lack of specific structure of freestyle poetry. It must have rhythm, but other than that, there are few restrictions with freestyle poetry.
What is your favourite poem in your favourite style to read?
Eating Poetry by Mark Strand was introduced to me this year by my English teacher. At first, I didn’t really understand the poem but after reading it a few times, it captured my imagination. I like the surreal and unusual style of this poem.
Eating Poetry by Mark Strand
Ink runs from the corners of my mouth.
There is no happiness like mine.
I have been eating poetry.
***
The librarian does not believe what she sees.
Her eyes are sad
and she walks with her hands in her dress.
***
The poems are gone.
The light is dim.
The dogs are on the basement stairs and coming up.
***
Their eyeballs roll,
their blond legs burn like brush.
The poor librarian begins to stamp her feet and weep.
***
She does not understand.
When I get on my knees and lick her hand,
she screams.
***
I am a new man.
I snarl at her and bark.
I romp with joy in the bookish dark.
Do you like listening to poetry?
I don’t listen to poetry outside of school. I do love music and I think that songs are a form of poetry. The poems are just set to music. I love music and I’m learning to play the electric guitar.
This is my favourite song:
What is your favourite of your own poems in your favourite style?
I have nine poems published in Square Peg in a Round Hole, poetry, art & creativity by Robbie Cheadle. I have written a few poems subsequently, but not that many as I am studying art at school. It takes up a lot of my time. I like my poem, Devil’s Thoughts in the collection because the setting is one of my photographs. I enjoy photographing roads and cloud formations.
Devil’s Thoughts by Michael Cheadle
Panic and pain
Consume everything
I attempt to speak up
Trying again and again
To call for help
The only response
Is the devil’s reply
Shouting loudly
“Come to me, I can stop it all.
I can make you smile.”
The temptation
I endeavour to resist
The world may be crumbling
It is an endless pit
But it is a road I must traverse
About Square Peg in a Round Hole, poetry, art & creativity by Robbie Cheadle
How to stay positive in a negative world!
Square Peg in a Round Hole is a collection of poetry, art, and photography. The section, Life, demonstrates the author’s perceptions of life in a fast-moving world filled with work, ill-health, and other demands. The other sections illustrate how the poet makes use of writing poetry, creating art, and photography to keep smiling.
Amazon US purchase link: https://www.amazon.com/Square-Peg-Round-Hole-Creativity-ebook/dp/B0CW1H3SQV
A 5-star Amazon review for Square Peg in a Round Hole
Gwendolyn Plano says:
This collection of poetry, photography, paintings, and reflections grabbed my attention immediately. So much so that I devoured it in one sitting. The questions raised, the sorrows expressed, the hopes shared — all resonated with my own. For example, the tanka ‘Voice of Reason’ addresses current situations:
Leaders have the power
To direct others’ footsteps
Don’t blindly follow
Like a lemming to the sea
Let the voice of reason speak
This is a book worth savoring. The author’s brilliance is everywhere present. As an added dimension, Michael Cheadle’s heartbreaking poems bring the collection to a close. Bravo to both Robbie and Michael!
About Michael Cheadle
Michael Cheadle is a student in Johannesburg, South Africa. Together with Robbie Cheadle, Michael has co-authored eleven books in the Sir Chocolate books series, the first book in the Southern African Safari Adventures series, and Haunted Halloween Holiday.
Michael also has nine poems and a charcoal artwork in a poetry collection, Square Peg in a Round Hole.
You can find Michael Cheadle’s artwork and all his books on Robbie Cheadle’s website here: https://www.robbiecheadle.co.za/
About Robbie Cheadle
Award-winning, bestselling author, Robbie Cheadle, has published fourteen children’s books and three poetry books. Her work also features in several poetry and short story anthologies.
Robbie also has two novels published under the name of Roberta Eaton Cheadle and has horror, paranormal, and fantasy short stories featured in several anthologies under this name.
The eleven Sir Chocolate children’s picture books, co-authored by Robbie and Michael Cheadle, are written in sweet, short rhymes which are easy for young children to follow and are illustrated with pictures of delicious cakes and cake decorations. Each book also includes simple recipes or biscuit art directions which children can make under adult supervision.
Robbie and Michael Cheadle have recently launched a new series of children’s books called Southern African Safari Adventures. The first book, Neema the Misfit Giraffe is now available from Amazon.
Robbie’s blog includes recipes, fondant and cake artwork, poetry, and book reviews. https://robbiesinspiration.wordpress.com/
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Treasuring Poetry – Meet prolific poet, Ivor Steven, and a review #poetry #poetrycommunity #TreasuringPoetry
Posted: April 17, 2024 Filed under: Book Review, Books, Collection, Interview, Poetry, Review, Treasuring Poetry | Tags: Book Reveiw, Ivor Steven, Poetry, Robbie Cheadle, Treasuring Poetry, Until Eyes Hear Sound, Writing to be Read 53 CommentsMy April Treasuring Poetry guest is talented and prolific poet, Ivor Steven. Please enjoy his thoughts about poetry and some of his favourite poems.
What is your favourite style of poetry to read?
Oh, there are so many styles of poetry that I like. In my personal library I have poetry books by Leonard Cohen, William B Yeats, Walt Whitman, Emily Dickinson, John Keats, Henry Lawson, Banjo Paterson, and Rupi Kaur, and of course numerous other local poets. My selections are of a range of styles and very eclectic, however, my favourite poetry style is rhythmical freestyle poems.
What is your favourite poem in your favourite style to read?
Since I was a teenager, I have been an avid follower of Leonard Cohen’s writings, and he has had a huge influence on the way I draft my poems. One of my favourite poems of his is “Avalanche”.
“Avalanche“
Well, I stepped into an avalanche,
it covered up my soul;
when I am not this hunchback that you see,
I sleep beneath the golden hill.
You who wish to conquer pain,
you must learn, learn to serve me well.
You strike my side by accident
as you go down for your gold.
The cripple here that you clothe, and feed
is neither starved nor cold;
he does not ask for your company,
not at the centre, the centre of the world.
When I am on a pedestal,
you did not raise me there.
Your laws do not compel me
to kneel grotesque and bare.
I myself am the pedestal
for this ugly hump at which you stare.
You who wish to conquer pain,
you must learn what makes me kind;
the crumbs of love that you offer me,
they’re the crumbs I’ve left behind.
Your pain is no credential here,
it’s just the shadow, shadow of my wound.
I have begun to long for you,
I who have no greed;
I have begun to ask for you,
I who have no need.
You say you’ve gone away from me,
but I can feel you when you breathe.
Do not dress in those rags for me,
I know you are not poor;
you don’t love me quite so fiercely now
when you know that you are not sure,
it is your turn, beloved,
it is your flesh that I wear.
What is your favourite style of poetry to write? Why?
I must say I like writing Haiku, Tanka, musettes, and other forms of short poems. However, I only started writing poetry after I had suffered a semiserious stroke in 2000. During my rehab, the speech therapist encouraged me to write rhyming words to help regain my cognitive abilities. I developed a knack for rhyming words and from there my writing knowledge gradually expanded. With my restricted thought process, the rhythmical Freestyle Poems were an uncomplicated style for me to follow and I kept improving on my newfound journey into the world of poetry.
What is your favourite of your own poems in your favourite style?
Oh gosh, I have written nearly two thousand poems over the past twenty years, my favourite one is from my first book “Tullawalla”, I wrote the poem in Philadelphia while visiting my cousins in 2019. The trip to America was only two months after my 2nd and 3rd strokes, and the journey was truly a “dream come true”.
Dreams of The Heart
I cannot walk the continents
Like the intrepid Marco Polo
But my feet have felt the sands of time
Pass between my toes
I have not sailed the high seas
Like the courageous Christopher Columbus
But my body has bathed
In an ocean full of kind hearts I am yet to fly in space
Like the brave Neil Armstrong
But I have reached for the stars
And touched my soul’s dreams
How do you promote your poetry and poetry books?
I promote my poetry and books via my WordPress website, and social media sites: Instagram. Facebook. Thread, and a new website Medium. Also, I am an appointed writer for the online Coffee House Writers magazine (America), and they allow me to promote my Books on their members chat-site. I am a member the Geelong Writers Inc, who have Monthly social gatherings where I can sell my books. I frequent several local cafes, at which I am allowed to display and sell my books. I regularly attend local Arts Markets and I have had Book Stalls at nearby book festivals, the most recent being the prestigious Clunes Booktown Festival.
>> Clunes Booktown Festival – For the love of story
You can find out more about Ivor Steven on his blog here: https://ivorplumberpoet.press/about/
My review of Until Eyes Hear Sound
Available from Lulu.com here: https://www.lulu.com/search?contributor=Ivor+Steven&adult_audience_rating=00
and Jaymah Press here: https://www.jaymahpress.com.au/product-page/until-eyes-hear-sound
Until Eyes Hear Sound is a wonderful collection full of impactful poems about numerous important issues humanity faces as a collective, as well as the beauty of our natural world.
The book is divided up into ten chapters as follows: Little Creatures and Birds; Planet Earth, Nature and Existence; The New World? The Same Universe; Observations – “Until Eyes Hear Sound”; War! Without Peace?; Memories and Rhymes; Poetry in Slow Motion; Humour, Fantasy, Faeries, and Weird; and Short Poems, Haiku, Senryu, Tanka, and Others. Each section shares a smaller collection of poems that highlight the best and worst of that category. The poems are written in a mixture of freestyle and rhyming verse and are easy to read and vivid in their description.
The following are a few lines from some of the poems I related to the most in the collection:
“Raw rain is tumbling across town
Mother Nature’s roaring sound
Amplifies her tears slapping the ground
As her dark clouds wrinkle into a frown”
from She Knows
“Behind every mask there is a weathered face
Behind every face old lines survive in place
Behind every place memories live with grace”
from My World, My Thoughts
“arriving
via the cemetery gate
holding her flowers
hands quivering
heart quickens …
“leaving
via the cemetery path
renewing goodbyes
crying silently
breathing slowly”
from Arriving and Leaving, Visiting Her. This was my favourite poem in the collection.
A beautiful collection.
About Robbie Cheadle
Award-winning, bestselling author, Robbie Cheadle, has published fourteen children’s books and three poetry books. Her work also features in several poetry and short story anthologies.
Robbie also has two novels published under the name of Roberta Eaton Cheadle and has horror, paranormal, and fantasy short stories featured in several anthologies under this name.
The eleven Sir Chocolate children’s picture books, co-authored by Robbie and Michael Cheadle, are written in sweet, short rhymes which are easy for young children to follow and are illustrated with pictures of delicious cakes and cake decorations. Each book also includes simple recipes or biscuit art directions which children can make under adult supervision.
Robbie and Michael Cheadle have recently launched a new series of children’s books called Southern African Safari Adventures. The first book, Neema the Misfit Giraffe is now available from Amazon.
Robbie’s blog includes recipes, fondant and cake artwork, poetry, and book reviews. https://robbiesinspiration.wordpress.com/
Treasuring Poetry Special Remembrance Month Edition: Poet, Frank Prem, discusses his war poetry #poetrycommunity #warpoetry #TreasuringPoetry
Posted: November 15, 2023 Filed under: Book Review, Books, Collection, Interview, Poetry, Review | Tags: Book Review, Frank Prem, From Volyn to Kherson, Interview, Poetry, Poetry Collection, Review, Robbie Cheadle, Treasuring Poetry, War, War Poetry, Writing to be Read 51 CommentsToday, I am delighted to welcome prolific and masterful poet, Frank Prem, back to Treasuring Poetry. Frank writes incredibly relatable poetry that covers a wide variety of topics relevant to modern life including the bush fires that raged in Australia a few years ago, Devil in the Wind, working as a psychiatric nurse in an institution, The New Asylum: A Memoir of Psychiatry, as well as collections about war. I have read Frank’s beautiful and moving collections about World War 1, Sheep on the Somme, and the war in the Ukraine, From Volyn to Kherson: Interpretations of the War in Ukraine. Frank also writes romantic poetry, interpretive modern poetry and verse books for children. In the nicest way, nothing is safe from Frank’s poetic pen.
Tell us a bit about your war poetry collections
I developed an interest in the First World War many years ago and was particularly interested in the stories of Australian soldiers and their seeming need to volunteer to fight half a world away on the basis of loyalty to the British Empire and the Mother Country that was England, but also on the basis of a kind of chivalric principle. A moral fever that swept the nation.
I came across books that were written in the more modern historical style of telling stories to illustrate events – using the example of an identified soldier, from an identified town, with family details and background, then tracing their movements into the war and its various theatres and actions.
I found I was able to understand these individuals a little better and to empathise with them and their loved ones a little more than I otherwise could.
I also found myself interested in using images for my own poetic inspiration and that led me to the images held by Australia’s War Memorial. There was one image in particular that started me looking at pictures taken during the war. The image was of a white cross in a field of muddy and bloody craters. The cross marked the grave of Captain Ivor Margetts, much loved and respected by the men he led in battle. By the following day the cross and the grave were gone. They’d been blown to hell by the shelling.
I was tremendously moved by this, and as I searched for a version of that particular image online, I encountered many more, each with a poignant story to tell and many were destined to feature in my book Sheep On The Somme (https://www.amazon.com.au/Sheep-Somme-World-Picture-Poetry/dp/1925963144 ).
More recently, I found myself watching the sabre rattling over the Ukraine that was being perpetrated by Russia and was reminded very clearly of reading I’d done long ago about the beginnings of the Spanish Civil War back in the late 1930s and of the rise of Right-Wing Fascism in Europe during that same period of the 1930s. I was struck by the similarities and the ways in which those events and movements evolved into what became World War II. It was – and remains – quite concerning to see these way events continue to unfold.
As the news and pictures of Russia’s military build-up on the Ukraine border kept emerging, along with the seeming inability on the part of Ukraine to do anything to stop it, I watched events more and more closely.
When Ukraine’s borders were finally breached, there were more photographers and journalists on the spot than has ever been the case previously in a conflict. We were flooded with formal and informal news and masses of un-curated and un-censored images.
During the first nine weeks of the conflict I became engrossed in reading the news and studying the images. And – of course – I began to write.
I produced 3 volumes of poetry interpreting the Ukraine war – two of them will not be released because they used images taken by journalists in the field and I don’t have rights to use those images. The volumes (Bullets Into The Starichi Sky and I Call The Hole The War) sit on my private bookshelf here in my writing studio.
The third volume – From Volyn to Kherson – is a collection of poems in which I have attempted to use such talent for empathy as I possess to interpret the news stories I was reading in a way that enabled any of my own readers to get a sense of what the invasion and the conflict was like as an experience for the everyday people of Ukraine. What if it happened here, in my town? What would it be like to have seventy kilometres of armoured assault vehicles coming to surround and destroy my home town? Or yours?
I like readers to know where the inspiration for these writings has come from and so each individual poem is referenced and has a link to the online sources that I relied on in my writing. After nine weeks I was a little burnt out and had to stop writing, but I follow events over there diligently and worry about what I see happening in the wider world and which still so resembles the events of the 1930s.
What draws you to writing about wars?
I’ve encroached a little on this question with my answer above, I think, but I’ll try to elaborate a little more.
In my professional life I was a psychiatric nurse. Back (so many years ago) when I was a student nurse one of the areas of interaction with patients that was taught and stressed was empathy.
As I understood it, empathy was the ability to walk in another person’s shoes. To see things from the perspective of the other person, but not to necessarily sympathise, or accept, merely to understand in order to be able to reflect that understanding back to the patient.
The patients that came my way in psychiatry were invariably involved in and generally overwhelmed by personal chaos. This might have been due to illness, or it might have been due their life being in a mess they could not resolve. They might have been psychotic, depressed, suicidal, or experiencing any number of out-of-control situations.
That tool of empathy has stayed with me, I think, and now reveals itself in my writing. The experience of chaos by a person finds itself being reflected back in my writings.
I think it is in this way that I am attracted to attempt to unravel what a person may be feeling or experiencing in a war zone. Similarly, I find myself writing a lot about the human toll of natural disasters that come close to me or to my little place in the world.
I have always tried to develop my understanding of these things by writing my way through them. To help myself and any subsequent reader to understand by feeling what is happening through my words.
Tell us a bit about how you use photographs and newspaper articles to assist with writing your war poems
With newspaper articles, I try to extract the meat of the story. That part of the article that is the actual purpose – the reason that it is a story in the first place.
Often enough, there is human interest in the genesis of the article. I then allow the information to assemble itself in a way that I can present it to a reader. For example
What is grandmother doing in the kitchen? Is she cooking Sunday lunch? No. She is cooking Molotov cocktails for others to throw at invading vehicles. And . . . wouldn’t you or I, each do the same if this was happening in our back yard?
With an image, I anticipate that it will have a story to tell. I try not to impose myself and my own current thoughts or fears or desires on it, but to allow the story to be whatever comes.
For example, a golden paper daisy with a bright glow might well have a story to tell that reflects light, and the sun. But equally, it might be a harbinger – a prophet of some kind that draws attention to itself in order to be heard. I don’t know in advance what the story will be, but I try to keep myself out of its road and not to shape the narrative too much.
I have come to know, also, that each image will have a different story to tell to each viewer, so to the extent that I can, I try to facilitate a receptive space for that to occur through what I end up writing. I’ll give an example of how I find a story in a tiny image taken during wartime over a hundred years ago.
The image above is the view from inside a German army dugout in World War I – around 1916. It is from within this space that a small group of individuals fought their war.
When I look at this image, I notice a few things and I feel a few things. In no particular order:
- From pitch darkness up into light. A very small doorway.
- Claustrophobia.
- Fear.
- The smell of habitation. Bodily odours – where would the latrine have been?
- The knowledge of death and destruction and battle rage just outside
- Movement of the ground as shells fall outside. Perhaps close.
- Maybe the sound of enemy troops approaching the bunker to destroy it.
- What of family. Has this soldier (have I) written them a note to say goodbye?
I don’t have a personal experience of war, but I know what fear feels like. I know claustrophobia and the smells of my own body . . . and so on. I can draw on these to understand a little of what the soldier in the dugout might have felt.
The willingness to engage with these elements that come from the image allow me to engage my empathy and to allow a story – which the image itself contains – to be told.
What is your own favourite war poem?
I think that my personal favourite of my own written war poems is one that hasn’t featured in a book to date, but was written to be read for a spoken-word poetry slam 2 years ago. The criteria were that it needed to be 2 minutes reading time or less and to include the term ‘full circle’.
The poem told stories in word pictures and referenced images, without actually including them, if that makes sense. I have since recorded it for my YouTube channel and included there the images that the poem references, spanning both World War I and the current Ukraine war.
The link to the poem on YouTube is here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JI3vRaTg0tI .
The text of the poem is below:
THE TRUTH OF TIME
(AS TOLD BY THE PICTURES)
picture 1
a group
of soldiers
are hanging out
of the doors
and windows
of a moving train
leaving Egypt
heading
to the western front
ready
for a stoush
a bit
of a barney
it’s time
to come to grips
with the enemy
and they’re cherry ripe
for a
blue
picture 2
dimitriy
is holding olga –
tightly –
on the platform
a blue train
is nearly ready to leave
she’ll go
to poland
across the border
dimitriy
will join his friends
in the territorials
a week
to practice
how to hold a rifle
and to learn
first aid
then away
he must forget
to be an accountant
he’s
a front-line fighter
now
picture 3
a heap of rubble –
bricks
and half-bricks
timber and concrete
and dust –
lies as a mound
among mounds
it is
a streetscape
an avenue
of homes
destroyed by artillery
a soldier –
rifle
slung over a shoulder –
picks his way
toward camera
there is nothing left
that might hold
use
or meaning
picture 4
the village near kyiv
is a series
of mounds
rubble
that was homes
and houses
a month or so
ago
a woman
is sifting
searching
for something –
anything –
that might
have a use
it’s all been destroyed
by missiles
and artillery
she hasn’t found
a lot
that will be helpful
~
pictures
pictures
they won’t
let me sleep
in the night
they shout at me
that we have come
full circle
and the ukraine
is in 1916 all over again
Who is your favourite war poet?
I can’t honestly say I have a favourite war poet, but I have read with a deep sense of connection stories such as All Quiet on the Western Front by Erich Maria Remarque with its empathy for the soldiers of the day. Here is the Wikipedia link: https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/All_Quiet_on_the_Western_Front .
What is your favourite war poem?
I’m aware of many of the great poet writers of the First World War, such as Owen, Sassoon, Brook and Graves, among others, but for my response to this question I have to refer you and readers to a song that I first encountered back when I was a teenager (50 years, who would ever have thought . . .).
The song was performed by a wonderful English Folk ensemble called Steeleye Span, and the song is called Fighting For Strangers. Here is the YouTube link: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JI3vRaTg0tI
YouTube Links
In addition to the links given above, I would welcome viewers, new followers (if any so desire) comments and feedback on my YouTube Channel, where there a re a number of video readings from my war poetry collections (and natural disasters and psychiatry and others). Click on the link below to be taken along to the Playlists available on the Channel.
https://www.youtube.com/@frankprempoetandauthor726/playlists
Robbie and readers, thanks so much for having me along to chat for November’s Treasuring Poetry post.
My review of From Volyn to Kherson: Interpretations of the War in Ukraine
This book is a ‘hard’ read. It exposes the realities of war; the filth, the noise, the fear, and the destruction and death. No civilian wants war, it is something that is imposed on individuals because of factors outside of the man on the street’s control. Civilians, however, bear the brunt of war as the women lose their husbands and sons. The entire population generally loses its collectively homes, food stability, economic stability, access to sanitation, food, and healthcare. Many countries and populations never recover from wars and their populations become unwanted refugees. The sympathy of the unaffected world shrinks rapidly when wars and the resultant refugees impacts on their economies, making the slices of the economic pie for their own populations smaller.
The war in Ukraine hit me especially hard when I read about the Russian soldiers who froze to death in their tanks. Although the Russians were the instigators and aggressors in this war, many of those young men are the same ages as my own two sons, and their dreadful fate couldn’t fail to stir compassion. Young men frequently have a glamorous and inaccurate picture of war when they enlist or are called up. The realities of war quickly displace these notions but it is already too late.
A few stirring stanzas from this collection of freestyle poems:
From fallen (quietly weeping)
“here it is safe
safe enough
to shed
a tear”
From the metro (is also home)
“let the fear
fall away
for a moment while
the anthem
sounds”
From vasylkiv (is fighting on)
This footnote made me shiver: “People used to think about new car or iphone, but nobody was thinking about peace. Now, we are dreaming of it. When old people used to wish each other peace, we didn’t understand what they meant. Now we do.”
and finally, from in okhtyrka (the tsentral’ne)
“they are preparing
the cemetery now
in okhtyrka
adriy
and his platoon
are gone
vacuum bombed
air taken
out
of them
and then
they died”
This is a beautiful and emotion book of poems that will change the way you view war forever.
You can find out more about Frank Prem here:
You can find out more about Frank Prem on his website here: https://frankprem.com/
and on his wordpress blog here: https://frankprem.wordpress.com/blog/
On amazon US here: https://www.amazon.com/stores/Frank-Prem/author/B07L61HNZ4
About Robbie Cheadle
Award-winning, bestselling author, Robbie Cheadle, has published fourteen children’s books and two poetry books. Her work also features in several poetry and short story anthologies.
Robbie also has two novels published under the name of Roberta Eaton Cheadle and has horror, paranormal, and fantasy short stories featured in several anthologies under this name.
The eleven Sir Chocolate children’s picture books, co-authored by Robbie and Michael Cheadle, are written in sweet, short rhymes which are easy for young children to follow and are illustrated with pictures of delicious cakes and cake decorations. Each book also includes simple recipes or biscuit art directions which children can make under adult supervision.
Robbie and Michael Cheadle have recently launched a new series of children’s books called Southern African Safari Adventures. The first book, Neema the Misfit Giraffe is now available from Amazon.
Robbie’s blog includes recipes, fondant and cake artwork, poetry, and book reviews. https://robbiesinspiration.wordpress.com/
You can find example of Robbie Cheadle’s artwork in her art gallery here: https://www.robbiecheadle.co.za/art-gallery/
Treasuring Poetry – Meet the poet, Merril D Smith, and a book review #poetry #poetrycommunity #bookreview
Posted: October 18, 2023 Filed under: Book Review, Books, Interview, Poetry, Review, Treasuring Poetry | Tags: Book Review, Merril D. Smith, Poet Interview, Poetry, River Ghosts, Robbie Cheadle, Treasuring Poetry, Writing to be Read 65 CommentsToday, I am delighted to welcome talented poet, Merril D Smith as my October Treasuring Poetry guest. Merril has recently launched River Ghosts, a beautiful book of poetry which I have reviewed below.
Tell me a bit about your poetry collection, River Ghosts. What inspired the poetry in this book? Does it have a particular theme?
I had submitted a chapbook to Nightingale & Sparrow Press, which was longlisted, but ultimately not chosen for publication. The editor gave me some positive feedback, and I decided I would submit a full-length manuscript the following year. Of course, I did not expect a pandemic, nor that my mom would die from it in April 2020 during the first wave and lockdown. By that time, she was in a nursing home, and we were not allowed to be with her. I compiled River Ghosts in the months after her death with some already written poems—some published—and some new poems.
I walk by the Delaware River nearly every morning. Sometimes I go to a nearby park, which is also a historic battle site. The battle took place during the American Revolution, and there is an eighteenth-century house there. Recently, they’ve found more remains of soldiers—Hessians who fought for the British. If ghosts exist, I think they are at rivers, which carry so much history, and because of the battle and soldiers killed, I imagine them here.
So, the collection’s title comes from my musings about rivers and ghosts, including the ghosts of memory. However, I don’t think River Ghosts is all about sadness and grief by any means! I also want to mention that my older child, Jay Smith, designed the cover art, and the book is dedicated to my mother’s memory.
Do you do a lot of editing of your poetry or does the poem manifest itself fully formed?
That really depends. I nearly always do some editing, even for poems written for prompts. Sometimes, I go back to poems though, and I revise them. Then again, I’ve had some poems published that I pretty much wrote and sent off.
What do you find to be the most effective way of sharing your poetry with fellow poetry lovers?
I don’t know about effective. I suppose more people read my poetry on my blog, especially in response to a prompt, than anywhere else. I’ve also shared poems on Twitter /X for Top Tweet Tuesday (run by Black Bough Poetry), and I’ve read at some online open mics.
Do you think poetry is still a relevant form of expressing ideas in our modern world? If yes, why?
I think it’s relevant. I think I’ve read there’s been an upsurge in poetry, both reading and writing. Perhaps that’s because of social media and Covid lockdowns. I think most people enjoy poetry, especially if it’s read. For example, so many people were energized by Amanda Gorman’s reading of her poem, “The Hill We Climb,” at the inauguration of President Joe Biden in 2021. She is the youngest poet to have read a poem at a US presidential inauguration, and she is also an activist.
Which of your own poems is your favorite and why?
I don’t have a favorite anything—book, movie, song, or poem– it depends on my mood. But I will share one of my favorites from River Ghosts. “Moon Landing” was originally published by Black Bough Poetry.
Moon Landing
On that warm July night,
my father watched moonstruck
as Neil Armstrong took his giant leap.
I remained firmly earthbound,
watching our new puppies in the TV screen light,
their small black and white bodies tumbling,
stepping hesitantly into their futures.
Now—ensorcelled by moon-glow—
I plummet back, landing my time-rocket
on the rocky surface of memory.
Which poem by any other poet that you’ve read, do you relate to the most and why?
Again, I can’t say there is any poem that I relate to the most. I like many different types of poetry.
I think this is the poem I wish I had written. You will see in a way it’s connected to the poem of mine that I shared. “My God, It’s Full of Stars” is by Tracy K. Smith, who was US Poet Laureate, and who won a Pulitzer Prize for her collection Life on Mars.
My God, It’s Full of Stars by Tracy K. Smith
We like to think of it as parallel to what we know,
Only bigger. One man against the authorities.
Or one man against a city of zombies. One man
Who is not, in fact, a man, sent to understand
The caravan of men now chasing him like red ants
Let loose down the pants of America. Man on the run.
Man with a ship to catch, a payload to drop,
This message going out to all of space. . . . Though
Maybe it’s more like life below the sea: silent,
Buoyant, bizarrely benign. Relics
Of an outmoded design. Some like to imagine
A cosmic mother watching through a spray of stars,
Mouthing yes, yes as we toddle toward the light,
Biting her lip if we teeter at some ledge. Longing
To sweep us to her breast, she hopes for the best
While the father storms through adjacent rooms
Ranting with the force of Kingdom Come,
Not caring anymore what might snap us in its jaw.
Sometimes, what I see is a library in a rural community.
All the tall shelves in the big open room. And the pencils
In a cup at Circulation, gnawed on by the entire population.
The books have lived here all along, belonging
For weeks at a time to one or another in the brief sequence
Of family names, speaking (at night mostly) to a face,
A pair of eyes. The most remarkable lies.
2.
Charlton Heston is waiting to be let in. He asked once politely.
A second time with force from the diaphragm. The third time,
He did it like Moses: arms raised high, face an apocryphal white.
Shirt crisp, suit trim, he stoops a little coming in,
Then grows tall. He scans the room. He stands until I gesture,
Then he sits. Birds commence their evening chatter. Someone fires
Charcoals out below. He’ll take a whiskey if I have it. Water if I don’t.
I ask him to start from the beginning, but he goes only halfway back.
That was the future once, he says. Before the world went upside down.
Hero, survivor, God’s right hand man, I know he sees the blank
Surface of the moon where I see a language built from brick and bone.
He sits straight in his seat, takes a long, slow high-thespian breath,
Then lets it go. For all I know, I was the last true man on this earth. And:
May I smoke? The voices outside soften. Planes jet past heading off or back.
Someone cries that she does not want to go to bed. Footsteps overhead.
A fountain in the neighbor’s yard babbles to itself, and the night air
Lifts the sound indoors. It was another time, he says, picking up again.
We were pioneers. Will you fight to stay alive here, riding the earth
Toward God-knows-where? I think of Atlantis buried under ice, gone
One day from sight, the shore from which it rose now glacial and stark.
Our eyes adjust to the dark.
Continue reading here: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/55519/my-god-its-full-of-stars
Here is the last part of the poem with a reading by Tracy K. Smith:
My review of River Ghosts
River Ghosts is the perfect name for this beautiful collection, which gives the reader glimpses into the poet’s life in the present, shadowed by memories, and coloured by traditions and behaviours passed down by her parents, and the ancestors that came before them. It is, in essence, an insight into the factors that make the poet who she is, and that have shaped her thoughts, ideas, and actions.
I found the ideas of loss contained in this book, interwoven with the concepts of long-lasting memories and loved ones living on through us, their offspring, compelling and delightful. For me, it made the overwhelming thought of the losses that must come, more bearable. Love, and the family traditions and behaviours we continue to honour, and pass down to our own children and grandchildren, bind us strongly to those who came before and to those who will come after. I love that idea.
A few examples of beautiful stanzas and/or lines:
“a tiny glove in the street,
the small hand grows colder
now unclasped from a larger one.”
From Observe, And Again
Above and about, dreams soar –
I pluck one from a thousand –
of red petals crushed beneath rocks
after a storm, like blood drops growing, glowing”
From Almost, and Never
“Once some brilliant star breathed time
in the after-wake of explosion and danced across a universe
exploring eternity”
From And If Always Lives
This poetry collection is a wonderful investment of time and mental energy.
River Ghosts Amazon US purchase link: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B09WZ8F9XJ
About Merril D. Smith
Merril D. Smith is a poet living in southern New Jersey. Her work has been published in poetry journals and anthologies, including Black Bough Poetry, Acropolis, Anti-Heroin Chic, The Storms, Fevers of the Mind, Humana Obscura, and Nightingale and Sparrow. She holds a Ph.D. in American history from Temple University in Philadelphia and is the author/editor of numerous books on gender, sexuality, and history. Her full-length poetry collection, River Ghosts (Nightingale & Sparrow Press) was Black Bough Poetry’s December 2022 Book of the Month.
Twitter: @merril_mds
Instagram: mdsmithnj
Blog: merrildsmith.org
US Amazon Link for River Ghosts: https://www.amazon.com/River-Ghosts-Merril-D-Smith/dp/B09WZ8F9XJ
UK Link: https://www.amazon.co.uk/River-Ghosts-Merril-Smith-ebook/dp/B09XKLDG6Q
Treasuring Poetry – Meet poets, bloggers, and writers, Emily Gmitter and Zoe the Fabulous Feline, and a review #TreasuringPoetry #Poetrycommunity #review
Posted: July 19, 2023 Filed under: Book Review, Collection, Interview, Poetry, Review | Tags: Emily Gmitter, Happiness is a Warm Cat, Poetry, Robbie Cheadle, Treasuring Poetry, Writing to be Read, Zoe the Fabulous Feline 56 CommentsToday, I am delighted to welcome Emily Gmitter and her amazing writing cat, Zoe, to Treasuring Poetry. This is the first time I’ve interviewed such an interesting duo for this series and it has been a fabulous experience.
Welcome Emily and Zoe
I’d like to thank Robbie for inviting me and my co-author, Zoe the Fabulous Feline, to be guests on her lovely Treasuring Poetry blog. We’re happy to be here with her and all of you wonderful poets! Zoe says “hello” too—she’s waving her paw at the screen.
Is writing poetry easier for you compared to prose or do you do a lot of editing and revision of your poems?
While my initial writing efforts focused on poetry, and specifically, syllabic poetry, now I more often write short stories. However, poems or snippets of rhyme frequently find their way into my stories. My brain seems wired for rhyme, so if something comes to me, I don’t ignore it. But, to give you the short and direct answer to your question: I edit my prose far more than I do my poetry.
If I may elaborate, there is a distinct difference between the poet I thought I was back in the day, and the writer I hope I am today. Writing prose came much later in my life—that is, if you don’t count my very first short story, written in fourth grade, about a letter that was afraid of the dark. The story starts with a mom asking her daughter to take a letter to the mailbox. Just as the child is pulling the handle of the mailbox down and bringing the letter up to the opening, the letter starts to squirm and squeal in fear. It begs the child to not do it: “Please don’t drop me into the dark!” The child is startled, of course, but before she can say or do anything, the letter grows arms and legs and runs away. And that’s all I remember about that!
Getting back to your question … I’d add that, while I do edit my poetry, it seems most of my poems haven’t required heavy revision. I might tweak a word or two to keep the meter consistent or create an inner rhyme. Sometimes I’ve made an edit to deliberately include an alliterative phrase. But that’s about it. So I think syllabic poetry—unlike free verse—has always come easily to me. And it’s gotten easier as I’ve gotten older, or perhaps my personal bar has gotten lower. With my prose, though, it’s a far different story. The editing seems never-ending, but of course, at some point, you have to call it done.
I alluded to free verse; writing poetry in that style is not my forte, and has never been. Every once in a blue moon, something comes to me in that form, and usually it’s very short. (There is one example of that in my book, called “Soul Buddies.”) Free verse is much harder for me to write. I enjoy it, and I envy those who can create it, but it’s never come naturally to me. When I try to write it, it feels contrived. In one sense of the word, contrived is a positive thing; it’s what all writers do, right? We deliberately create a written piece; we calculate where to place an adjective, we assess whether a near-rhyme works well or at all. And on and on. So, contrived is not a dirty word. But it does have a negative sense, as well. When I find myself digging too deeply for words to convey what I wish to, the result sometimes feels forced and phony. I usually end up balling up the paper and aiming for the wastepaper basket. And that’s happened more times than I care to remember. I’ll leave free verse to those who can actually create it and spend my time enjoying the beauty of their creations.
Today I find that a poem is either there or it’s not. I most enjoy creating poetry when the words flow naturally. That feels like a gift. I write it down, and I leave it alone.
What mode (blog, books, YouTube, podcasts) do you find the most effective for sharing your poems with poetry lovers and readers?
I incorporated my poems into my newly released book and, while I’m not sure of its effectiveness over alternative modes, I really enjoyed using my poetry to mix up the flavor of the book. I also share my poetry (as well as my short stories and artwork) on social media.
Now, Zoe is more clever than I, or perhaps I should say, she’s a bit less technically challenged than I. She’s on Facebook, too, but she also posts on her The Life & Times of Zoe the Fabulous Feline blog. (A bit contrived if you ask me. To which Zoe just said, “Who’s asking you?”) Speaking of the little imp, she would like to say something. And I think I should be afraid.
Hi, Robbie, it’s me, Zoe the Fabulous Feline! I just wanted to point out something Emily neglected to tell you, which is that my poems are also in our book. Sheesh! Well, at least she gave me credit for my blog. My short stories sometimes include poetry, and I share my short stories on my social media pages. I did write one story completely in syllabic rhyme, which is in our book; it’s called “Zoe and Friends’ Strange Adventure.” It’s too long to include here,, so I’ll just summarize it for you:
A magic hat flies me and a couple of friends on a journey to different lands, one ruled by an evil dictator, and another led by a kind and compassionate old soul—the latter a land where a White Mist relays to us a message of hope and love. We return home with a new perspective.
I’m quite proud of that story-poem. (Story-poem might not be the right, or even a valid, term, but Emily would not let me say “epic poem”; she said I would sound terribly “arrogant.” I’m not even sure what that means, but it does not sound good.) About other modes for our writings: I’ve considered a podcast, but when I’d previously tried to teach Emily how to set up her own blog, that did not go well. Still, I took a chance and mentioned to her that I’d like her assistance with doing a “PodCAT” (a podcast for cats only). Well, I had to practically pick her up off the floor. So I took pity on her and did not push the idea. Anyway, I’m busy enough already. I’ll hand the baton back to Emily at this time and will be back if any other question catches my attention. Ciao for now!
Do you think poetry is still a relevant form of expressing ideas in our modern world? If yes, why?
Yes, I do, because poetry is a window into our souls. Poets write from the heart, and because people are multi-faceted creatures, and because there is so much going on around us all the time, there is no end to the food that will feed a poet’s imagination. Relevance abounds!
And then we have that other class of poets who are relevant in our modern world—the songwriter. Songwriters write lyrics that tell their own stories but also often speak to all our lives. Some artists may stick with the typical love song and/or love-gone-wrong song, and others may risk commercial success for at least occasionally penning songs that speak truth to power. In the latter category, the words of Kris Kristofferson come to mind. His diverse catalog includes every kind of song imaginable, from love songs to humor to satire, from the bittersweet of love and loss to the blessings bestowed on us by a higher power. He also writes biting, politically charged, contemporary songs; just one example of Kristofferson’s many topical tunes is an older one, called “In the News.” (A word of caution: Based on real life events, these lyrics are not easy to read.)
In the News
Read about the sorry way he done somebody’s daughter
Chained her to a heavy thing and threw her in the water
And she sank into the darkness with their baby son inside her
A little piece of truth and beauty died
Burning up the atmosphere and cutting down the trees
The billion dollar bombing of a nation on its knees
Anyone not marching to their tune they call it treason
Everyone says God is on his side
See the lightning, hear the cries
Of the wounded in a world in Holy war
Mortal thunder from the skies
Killing everything they say they’re fighting for
Broken babies, broken homes
Broken-hearted people dying everyday
How’d this happen, what went wrong
Don’t blame God, I swear to God I heard him say
Not in my name, not on my ground
I want nothing but the ending of the war
No more killing, or it’s over
And the mystery won’t matter anymore
Broken dreamers, broken rules
Broken-hearted people just like me and you
We are children of the stars
Don’t blame God, I swear to God he’s crying too
Not in my name, not on my ground
I want nothing but the ending of the war
No more killing, or it’s over
And the mystery won’t matter anymore
Read about the sorry way he done somebody’s daughter
Chained her to a heavy thing and threw her in the water
And she sank into the darkness with their baby son inside her
A little piece of truth and beauty died
~ Kris Kristofferson ~ (In the News – YouTube)
It would be hard to be any more relevant in our modern world than that.
Which of your own poems is your favorite and why?
Oh, this is a tough one! I have favorites in different categories. If we’re talking humorous, “The Spider” is my favorite. I understand some will not find the killing of insects to be a humorous topic, but I have a serious bug phobia, so perhaps I will be forgiven.
The Spider
There you were on my wall the other day,
It wasn’t easy for me, but I let you go on your way.
Soon you were out of sight, but not out of mind,
For I need to know where you are at all times.
I needn’t have worried,
Soon enough you were back.
And busily building a translucent track.
Can’t spare you again, you should’ve stayed gone.
But no, you had to come back and build a new home.
And now, Lord have mercy, I feel bad, it’s a sin,
But when it comes down to your home or mine—mine wins.
My favorite poem of poignancy is “Unjust Desserts.” And for a fun read, I would choose “Nashville-Rainbow Style,” because it tells the story of a most memorable vacation with a bunch of my musician friends. And finally I—
Helloooo, this is Zoe again. I mean, I love Emily, but she sure can go on and on sometimes. Here is a little ditty I wrote as the ending to my short story entitled “Zoe the Poet.” The publisher liked it so much, he insisted on including it in our book, and that’s why it’s my favorite.
Zoe the feline just checking in
To bring you a laugh, a tear, or a grin.
The stories I give you, they come from within,
Except when they come from without.
Please note: With that poem, I answered the question of poetry relevance, too … saying in four lines what Emily said in four paragraphs.
Why do you write poetry?
It’s a good question. You could just as well ask why do I write prose? Both art forms paint images with words, and I equate words with power. Power to evoke emotions both positive and negative, power to entertain. And that’s what poetry is all about.
I love words! And I love to have fun with them. So my love of the English language is why I write anything at all. It’s also a way to communicate with others, a way of expressing myself without censoring myself, which I tend to do in oral communications. That’s the short and sweet answer to this question. As Zoe so kindly pointed out, I can go on and on, so if this satisfies, that’s cool. But I will say a few things more for those who like to read on and on.
As previously mentioned, my first writings of so many moons ago consisted entirely of poetry. But the truth is, these days I don’t set out to write poetry. These days, my creative endeavors have centered on prose and painting instead. However, I do still dip my toes in the pools of poetry every so often. Because of my love for language, I make a concerted effort to take advantage of the various forms of writing tools, such as alliteration, which adds interest to a piece, especially when it’s subtle—when it slips easily into the ear the way an old, well-worn glove slides over one’s hand.
Some short stories and all songs are poetry. In the short story category, flash fiction comes to mind, and especially those restricted-word-count story challenges; those can be poetry of the highest order. In word-challenge stories, one must use language in a very efficient yet meaningful way. When every word has to count, the result is often a rhythmic cadence that shouts “I am poetry!” I wrote the following in response to a 79-word challenge story. I may be biased but, to my mind, it is nothing if not poetic.
Letting Go
No shame in letting go. The freedom of the fall was stronger than her sister’s hand. They were having a passionate discussion. A decade separated the sisters. Their differences, strengthened over every day of each of those years, became more apparent as the discussion threatened to explode. The younger sister stood firm against the fire of her older sister’s fears. She knew it came from love, as surely as she knew she would survive the freedom of letting go.
My early poems came from a place of typical teen-age angst, most often fairly short expressions of whatever was on my mind at the time. Looking back at some of those now… well, I won’t say I’m embarrassed, exactly; I never planned for anyone to read them. But I am, at the least, amused at having taken myself so seriously back then. This might be the first poem I ever wrote. Needless to say, Growing Old did not make it into my book!
Growing Old
My brain is numb,
My heart is cold.
I must be dead,
Or am I old?
Was I describing my youthful thoughts on senility, dementia, growing old in general? Most likely the latter—the concept of aging in general—but the former shows that I had no real sense or kind thoughts about what it meant to be old. Clearly, I was not going to age gracefully!
Many of us younger folks had some angst about our elders—you know, those folks over thirty years of age and considered part of the establishment. Everybody expressed it in their own way. One of my earlier poems relays how I envisioned our world if nuclear powers were to lose their senses. It’s too long to include in this interview (it’s in my book), but here’s a stanza that shows the basic theme of the poem:
The Future of the Child
“What shall I be, Dad, when I grow up?”
Looking toward the future, an eager young pup.
“Anything you want, Son,” you say with a smile.
And secretly pray for the future of the child.
So, that was then, when I set out to write poetry. And this is now when I don’t. “Soul Buddies” is one of those short, free-verse poems that gave birth to itself without any help from me.
Soul Buddies
I found you so easily, where I found you,
not because you are predictable,
but because you go where I go.
You are where I am.
Worlds apart in time, bound by soul.
And that is my long answer to your question, Robbie. And to anyone who has read this far, thank you!
Which poem by any other poet that you’ve read, do you relate to the most [please provide the poem or a link to the poem] and why?
So many speak to me that it’s hard to choose the one that speaks the loudest. The volume also seems to change depending on my mood at any given time. But, at the top of my list of poets are Kris Kristofferson and Gibran Khalil Gibran. You might think Kris and Khalil is a strange pairing, but when you read the lyrics written by Kris and the poems written by Khalil, you see that both write poetry that hits you in your heart. Poetry that makes you wonder how they knew your innermost feelings.
Shel Silverstein is another genius I admire. His body of work is relatable, his sense of humor is bound to give the reader a new perspective on this crazy little thing called life. A well-known author of children’s books and poetry collections, his poems appear funny and light-hearted, and they are. But most contain considerable substance, as well. I really love “Put Something In” simply because it’s a great message, and not just for children.
I relate to this one a lot, at least partly because it speaks to the artist I fancy is in there somewhere, and the child I pray is still in there somewhere.
Put Something In
Draw a crazy picture,
Write a nutty poem,
Sing a mumble-grumble song,
Whistle through your comb.
Do a loony-goony dance
‘Cross the kitchen floor,
Put something silly in the world
That ain’t been there before.
~ Shel Silverstein ~
But you asked which one poem I relate to the most. I would choose this one by Gibran Khalil Gibran, called “Do Not Love Half Lovers.” In this poem, Khalil takes two simple idioms we’ve probably all heard all our lives (Live life to the fullest and Do it well or not at all) and presents them in a poetic fashion that is brilliant. This piece is accessible and contains valuable advice, yet is so mundane that it cannot help but be universal. I feel as though he was in my head when he wrote it. Who hasn’t, at one time or another, found themselves exhibiting such negative or self-damaging behaviors? Who hasn’t, at one time or another, felt only half alive?
One might say this poem reminds them that life is too short to live it only halfway. Others might say life is too long.
Do Not Love Half Lovers
Do not love half lovers
Do not entertain half friends
Do not indulge in works of the half talented
Do not live half a life
and do not die a half death
If you choose silence, then be silent
When you speak, do so until you are finished
Do not silence yourself to say something
And do not speak to be silent
If you accept, then express it bluntly
Do not mask it
If you refuse then be clear about it
for an ambiguous refusal is but a weak acceptance
Do not accept half a solution
Do not believe half truths
Do not dream half a dream
Do not fantasize about half hopes
Half a drink will not quench your thirst
Half a meal will not satiate your hunger
Half the way will get you no where
Half an idea will bear you no results
Your other half is not the one you love
It is you in another time yet in the same space
It is you when you are not
Half a life is a life you didn’t live,
A word you have not said
A smile you postponed
A love you have not had
A friendship you did not know
To reach and not arrive
Work and not work
Attend only to be absent
What makes you a stranger to them closest to you
and they strangers to you
The half is a mere moment of inability
but you are able for you are not half a being
You are a whole that exists to live a life
not half a life
~ Gibran Khalil Gibran ~
********
Well, I think I better stop here, Robbie. Zoe and I thank you again for this opportunity to take part in such a fun feature!
Thank you, Emily and Zoe, for being such entertaining guests.
Happiness is a Warm Cat by Emily Gmitter and Zoe the Fabulous Feline
Blurb
In Happiness is a Warm Cat, author Emily Gmitter and her feline friend, Zoe, serve up a mixed genre of short stories and poems brimming with passion, love, and humor. The majority of the stories are told from the perspective of her cat, Zoe—a cool cat of perspicacity if ever there was one. Zoe’s stories will make you laugh, cry, and occasionally scratch your head in wonder, while Emily’s stories of fiction and nonfiction mingle humor with a sharp poignancy that you’ll find both heartwarming and entertaining.
My review
Happiness is a Warm Cat is a wonderfully unique book filled with experiences and adventures told through the eyes of Emily Gmitter’s fabulous cat, Zoe, as well as some beautifully written romantic and other fictional pieces and biographical stories about aspects of Emily’s life. There are also some lovely poems and several pictures of Emily’s artwork. All of the creations in this book are filled with vibrancy, colour, and passion.
The stories about Zoe and her adventures are fun filled and interesting. Zoe is typical of a cat and is filled with self importance and quite sure about her status as ‘top dog’. She does all manner of naughty things to ensure that Emily remembers her place in the family structure. Zoe is also big hearted and curious (aren’t all cats?) and likes to meet other animals, including Bella the dog and Burt the writing cat, Bella and Barre the Siamese twins, as well as spending time with her sister, Jaz. Zoe also gets to experience some pain and loss.
As a reader, I thought that experiencing daily life through the eyes of Zoe, was a wonderful way to make sense of everyday trials and tribulations and find the happiness in small things and moments.
A wonderful book for readers who appreciate experiencing the ordinary contentedness of life from a different perspective.
Purchase Happiness is a Warm Cat by Emily Gmitter and Zoe the Fabulous Feline
About Emily Gmitter
Emily lives on the North Shore of Massachusetts. She loves to spend alone-time at the beach, fun-time singing at local karaoke clubs, and the rest of her time engaged in activities with family and friends … when she’s not reading, writing, or painting.
Treasuring Poetry – Meet poet and author, D.L. Finn and a book review #TreasuringPoetry #bookreview #poetry
Posted: June 21, 2023 Filed under: Blog Tour, Book Release, Book Review, Books, Collection, Interview, Poetry, Treasuring Poetry | Tags: D.L. Finn, Just Her Poetry, Robbie Cheadle, Treasuring Poetry, Writing to be Read 93 CommentsMy June Treasuring Poetry guest is the talented poet and author, D.L. Finn. Welcome Denise.
Why do you write poetry?
I write poetry for many reasons but the most important one is that I can describe what I’m seeing or feeling in ways I am unable to when I speak. Poetry also expresses or records the world as I see it or want it to be. I can use poetry to convey the pure awe of nature, share my thoughts, or vent frustrations. Writing poetry is not only a wonderful vehicle to communicate my emotions but I like that my perspective can be interpreted differently by the readers.
Do you think poetry is still a relevant form of expressing ideas in our modern world? If yes, why?
I do think poetry is still relevant. It is a beautiful art form that allows us to glimpse the world in new ways like any good painting would but through words.
Which poem by any other poet that you’ve read, do you relate to the most and why?
The first poem that captured me was A Road Less Traveled. I have the poem framed on my wall so I can enjoy it every day and appreciate that it can have a more layered meaning, and interpretations.
The Road Not Taken
BY ROBERT FROST
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/44272/the-road-not-taken
Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,
And sorry I could not travel both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it bent in the undergrowth;
Then took the other, as just as fair,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was grassy and wanted wear;
Though as for that the passing there
Had worn them really about the same,
And both that morning equally lay
In leaves no step had trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.
I shall be telling this with a sigh
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—
I took the one less traveled by,
And that has made all the difference.
Which of your own poems is your favourite and why?
I have two from when I first started writing poetry. So, these poems have a special place in my heart.
The Bearded Old Man
The bearded old man
Walks across the quiet desert,
His hooded white robe
Protecting and sheltering him
From the burning sky.
His feet are silent against the sand.
He walks day and night,
Going to a place that he knows exists.
He beckons strangers to join him
As he keeps walking toward…
That place he calls home.
Fingers of the Sea
The weightless world of the beach engulfs me
As the long, extended fingers of the sea
Gently
Stroke me—welcome me,
Enticing with its salty breath,
Satisfying my deep, hidden hunger.
Slowly
The fingers curl back
An invitation,
Beckoning toward the heart of the sea.
Beneath my gaze on the cold, wet world
Its subjects are sent out to tempt,
Screeching and scurrying
Above and below me,
All in a frenzied orchestrated rhythm.
The sea’s haunting song
Urgently
Seduces my soul.
All of my resistance floats away
Like the curling waves,
As I blissfully clutch
The fingers of the sea.
Is writing poetry easy for you compared to prose or do you do a lot of editing and revision of your poems?
Poetry does seem to come easily to me. I will usually write the poem by hand and then later put it on the computer. Editing comes later when I use the poem for my blog, a challenge, or a book. Each poem is different but when it feels and sounds right to me—it’s done. It is a different process for free verse over symbolic. In free verse I let the words flow naturally, while in symbolic poetry I need to make my words fit a pattern. I do enjoy writing both types of poetry and challenge myself to pen poetry in many different places. This includes the back of a Harley, underwater, or on a crowded plane. In writing prose, I need a quiet space and an idea to get me writing so it’s very different process from poetry.
What mode (blog, books, YouTube, podcasts) do you find the most effective for sharing your poems with poetry lovers and readers?
I share my poetry on my blogs, newsletters, and challenges. I also have a book, Just Her Poetry, and working on another one right now. I least like to read my poetry but will still do it.
My review of Just Her Poetry Seasons of a Soul (Poetry)
This book, packed with exquisite poems, is divided into two main sections, namely, Just her poetry about nature and the author’s experiences investigating sites of natural beauty from her seat behind the driver of a Harley and Seasons of a soul which includes a variety of passionate and evocative poems about the author’s emotional state during various experiences and circumstances she has faced during her life.
I was attracted particularly to the second section of poems and was captivated by the author’s depictions and descriptions of the states and stages of life. I selection of my favourite lines are as follows:
“I am alone
Yet the voices from my past sit with me.
They can haunt me – or comfort me.”
From Now
“It’s time to let go of the things I’ve collected.
Leaving room for my heart to shine through my smile.
Then my peace will be complete within my soul.”
From Simply Gone
And this extract from my favourite poem:
“I’m figuring out why I keep repeating the same issue over and over,
Like walking by a shoe in the middle of the room, tripping over it daily,
But not moving it or even taking another route so I don’t fall over that shoe.
Then it became guilt for me, always been there, while I kept tripping on it.”
From The Shoe.
This particular poem really spoke to me and I could relate to it completely. That, for me an avid reader of poetry, is a rare and wonderful thing.
Purchase link: https://www.amazon.com/gp/product/B07NVZ7FPF
My review of In the Tree’s Shadow (short story collection)
In the tree’s shadow is an entertaining collection of horror, paranormal and sci-fi short stories that is well worth reading. The stories all revolve around themes of self worth, love and relationships and use dark twists and turns to demonstrate the strength of love and its ability to overcome impossible seeming odds. The stories are of different lengths with some being quite long and detailed and others being 99-word flash fiction.
My favourite story was the first in the book called ‘End of the road’. The main character’s dismal life was well described and the reach of her grandmother’s love from beyond the grave was welcome and heart warming.
‘The Playdate’ and ‘A Man on the pier’ were both unexpectedly dark with most interesting twists that gave me quite a shock.
Another tale that I found particularly pleasing was ‘The Dolphin’. It was not dark, rather heart warming and unique.
All the stories are well written and the characters are nicely drawn.
Purchase Link: https://www.amazon.com/Trees-Shadow-collection-stories-nightmares-ebook/dp/B0BWL7LX9K
About D.L. Finn
D.L. Finn is an independent California local who encourages everyone to embrace their inner child. She was born and raised in the foggy Bay Area, but in 1990 relocated with her husband, kids, dogs, and cats to the Sierra foothills in Nevada City, CA. She immersed herself in reading all types of books, but especially loved romance, horror, and fantasy. She always treasured creating her own reality on paper. Finally, being surrounded by towering pines, oaks, and cedars, her creativity was nurtured until it bloomed. Her creations vary from children’s books, young adult fantasy, and adult paranormal romance to an autobiography with poetry. She continues on her adventures with an open invitation for her readers to join her.
About Robbie Cheadle
Award-winning, bestselling author, Robbie Cheadle, has published thirteen children’s book and two poetry books. Her work has also appeared in poetry and short story anthologies.
Robbie also has two novels published under the name of Roberta Eaton Cheadle and has horror, paranormal, and fantasy short stories featured in several anthologies under this name.
The ten Sir Chocolate children’s picture books, co-authored by Robbie and Michael Cheadle, are written in sweet, short rhymes which are easy for young children to follow and are illustrated with pictures of delicious cakes and cake decorations. Each book also includes simple recipes or biscuit art directions which children can make under adult supervision.
Robbie’s blog includes recipes, fondant and cake artwork, poetry, and book reviews. https://robbiesinspiration.wordpress.com/
Treasuring Poetry – Meet poet and blogger, Luanne Castle, and a review #poetry #poetrycommunity #bookreview
Posted: May 17, 2023 Filed under: Book Review, Books, Interview, Poetry, Review, Treasuring Poetry | Tags: "Writing to be Read, Luanne Castle, Our Wolves, Robbie Cheadle, Rooted and Winged, Treasuring Poetry 56 CommentsToday, I am thrilled to introduce poet and blogger, Luanne Castle, as my May Treasuring Poetry Guest. Luanne has written four poetry books and had her work included in some anthologies too. I have read two of her four books and found her poetry to be unique and fascinating.
Welcome Luanne!
Why do you write poetry?
My connection to poetry feels as if it’s deeper than thought and precedes story. Until I was eight years old, I was an only child and spent time entertaining myself. Even before I could read, I listened to records of nursery rhymes and folk songs repeatedly, loving the rhythms and the magical way the words sounded. I started writing poetry when I was a child as it seemed a natural form of expression to me, possibly because of this nursery rhyme background. I still feel this same connection to poetry that I did as a child.
Do you think poetry is still a relevant form of expressing ideas in our modern world? If yes, why?
Poetry is very relevant because it can perform much of the same communication that prose does, but more besides! The music and delight in words found in poetry are memorable, even mnemonic. Poetry also tends to express on many levels, leaving gaps (ambiguity) where readers and listeners supply responses, emotions, and thoughts, thus making poetry the most active and interactive form. We need this activity as a guard against the increasing passivity of our culture.
Which poem by any other poet that you’ve read, do you relate to the most and why?
This is such a difficult question. In April I posted a favorite poem a day on Instagram, but being a favorite doesn’t mean the same thing as relating. Today’s choice for a poem I can really relate to is by Jane Kenyon. The beauty of the natural world, the shift of mood, and the comfort at the end are all very appealing to me.
Let Evening Come
Let the light of late afternoon
shine through chinks in the barn, moving
up the bales as the sun moves down.
***
Let the cricket take up chafing
as a woman takes up her needles
and her yarn. Let evening come.
***
Let dew collect on the hoe abandoned
in long grass. Let the stars appear
and the moon disclose her silver horn.
***
Let the fox go back to its sandy den.
Let the wind die down. Let the shed
go black inside. Let evening come.
***
To the bottle in the ditch, to the scoop
in the oats, to air in the lung
let evening come.
***
Let it come, as it will, and don’t
be afraid. God does not leave us
comfortless, so let evening come.
Which of your own poems is your favourite and why?
I have a few favorites from each book, but today’s favorite is this one from Rooted and Winged about my maternal grandfather. He and my grandmother (a big part of my roots) show in several poems throughout the collection. This one is a prose poem and although the majority of poems I write are lyrical, I do enjoy prose poems for the mix of storytelling and poetic language and imagery.
How to Create a Family Myth
My grandfather built a city with his tongue. Houses and little shops, celery fields and sand lots all connected to each other without roads or sidewalks. Once or twice he showed me a map of sewer lines running like Arcadia Creek underneath the cobblestones and packed dirt. We stood outside and found tall buildings in the clouds overhead. His hands gestured how his grandfather placed the bricks and taught his men to shape upwards, each building higher than the one before. Out there on the stoop, he pointed out where his mother, the one he said I looked like, had witnessed a man beating his horse. I saw her calico skirt billow out behind her, her hands wiping across her apron stomach even as she ran. When she reached the man, she snatched the whip from his hand, his surprise at her actions slowing him, rendering him stupid. When she cracked the whip down on his back time did not go on for her as it did for the rest of the world. Not until a week later, when she went to the market, did she realize that the story ran, too. It kept running until it reached all of us, each child and grandchild and great grandchild taking just what is needed from the tale. In my case, I plucked a heart from the clouds and tucked it safely inside a brick house in the city where it keeps the city alive to this day.
Is writing poetry easy for you compared to prose or do you do a lot of editing and revision of your poems?
I do edit and revise my poetry, but I can more quickly get to a finished poem than I used to be able to do. Practice really does improve speed. However, sometimes the fullest meaning doesn’t emerge for weeks after a poem is “finished,” so the best scenario is to put poem aside and look at it again later. As far as prose goes, I find prose fairly easy to write. Where I feel I would be out of my element would be in writing a novel. The plot intricacies and overall structure would drive me mad.
What mode (blog, books, YouTube, podcasts) do you find the most effective for sharing your poems with poetry lovers and readers?
Ah, that is such a good question. I think my blog is very effective for sharing poetry. I love interacting with blog readers and other bloggers about poetry. My books, of course, present a cohesive project to readers. I have a podcast hosted by Rebecca Budd coming up but have not done too much in that area to date. And I haven’t worked with YouTube yet other than some readings I have done have been posted by others. I would love to work more with YouTube and an audio format like Soundcloud in the future.
My review of Rooted and Winged by Luanne Castle
This is the second book of poetry and flash fiction by Luanne Castle I’ve read and I really like her style of writing.
Each piece is a reflection on a specific aspect of life and depicts the author’s thoughts and ideas about that particular aspect. It felt like a poetic journal of experiences and interpretations which I really appreciated. The poems are all freestyle and are written as a stream of consciousness without the restrictions imposed by strict sentence formation and punctuation. It flows well and suits the theme of the poetry.
An example of the thoughts and ideas expressed is this stanza from Gravity:
“Why are we only of the earth, Grandpa?
See your knees sunken in muck,
the sun sketching very plane of you.”
The imagery is rich and descriptive. An example of the language is as follows (extracted from Finding the House on Trimble Street):
“The house, once white and raw, has matured into gold. Ripened maples in October red temptingly frame the remembrance. The garage neatly unfolds from the side, the lawn edged in definition.”
My favourite piece is a slightly longer one entitled Today and Today and Today. It is about caregivers and is very poignant. The writer’s observations are so genuine and relatable.
“… She either ignores you or says mean things or praises you endlessly. Each response makes you sad.”
“He can wear only that one sweater. The others are too thin, too thick, too warm, too prickly, or pull over the head.”
Having recently had the experience of a close family member in intensive care in hospital for a period, completely dependent on the nurses who provide the medication and care, I felt as if this description had been pulled from my heart and mind:
“But you feel she knows you are at her side, joking with the staff, making sure that aides and nurses alike care for her as they would their mothers because her submissive form has been brushed with the glow of your personality.”
An extraordinary book of insightful poetry and prose.
Purchase Rooted and Winged: https://www.amazon.com/Rooted-Winged-Luanne-Castle/dp/1646628632
My review of Our Wolves by Luanne Castle
This book is an original and unique collection of poems that expose the wolves that appear in the lives of females during their formative years and through to maturity. The poet has linked many, but not all, of her poetic thoughts and interpretations of human predators to the wolf in the famous story Little Red Riding Hood or Le Petit Chaperon Rouge in the original French (which I have listed to with an English interpretation in my hand).
An example of this connection to the wolf is this extract from Our Old Wolves:
“But you will know how frightened they are
of the dark, shadowed forest and the abstruse mind.
Of human-like wolves concealed behind spruce and fir,
their shadows stretching out tentacles to grasp them
as they tremble past on their way to the locked river.”
Some of the poems turn the readers traditional idea of the hero and the predator on its head and force consideration of how misleading looks, perceptions of beauty and strength, and inbred prejudices can be. It highlights how frequently girls and young women walk right into trouble because of the messages drummed into them by their mothers and society. Women are not taught to accurately identify predators or ‘the wolf’.
Thanks for meeting me for coffee is a good example of this concept:
“I searched for the beginning
of your story and discovered you
were lost when you believed him.
All gone, One a milk carton missing.”
The poems in the book are mainly written in freestyle poetry and are filled with subtle meanings and innuendoes for the reader to consider. This book must be read with an alert and fresh mind in order to appreciate its full meaning and intrigue.
For me, the summary of the meaning and power of this book is set out in the following words from Your Sonnet:
“My mother taught me to be kind, to be helpful,
not to ignore the slow or less than able, the ones
who are different, the needy so I asked what
he needed from me and he misunderstood.
My story is not so very different from yours
and yours and yours and yours and yours.”
If you like interesting and thought provoking poetry, you will love Our Wolves.
Purchase Our Wolves: https://www.amazon.com/Our-Wolves-Luanne-Castle/dp/B0BTKNP31D
About Luanne Castle
Luanne Castle lives in Arizona, next to a wash that wildlife use as a thoroughfare. She has published two full-length poetry collections, Rooted and Winged (Finishing Line 2022), a Book Excellence Award Winner, and Doll God (Kelsay 2015), which won the New Mexico-Arizona Book Award for Poetry. Her chapbooks are Our Wolves (Alien Buddha 2023) and Kin Types (Finishing Line 2017), a finalist for the Eric Hoffer Award. Luanne’s Pushcart and Best of the Net-nominated poetry and prose have appeared in Copper Nickel, American Journal of Poetry, Pleiades, River Teeth, TAB, Verse Daily, Saranac Review, and other journals.
Find Luanne Castle
Blog: https://writersite.org/
Website: https://www.luannecastle.com/
Twitter: https://twitter.com/writersitetweet
Luanne Castle Amazon Author Page
About Robbie Cheadle
Award-winning, bestselling author, Robbie Cheadle, has published thirteen children’s book and two poetry books. Her work has also appeared in poetry and short story anthologies.
Robbie also has two novels published under the name of Roberta Eaton Cheadle and has horror, paranormal, and fantasy short stories featured in several anthologies under this name.
The ten Sir Chocolate children’s picture books, co-authored by Robbie and Michael Cheadle, are written in sweet, short rhymes which are easy for young children to follow and are illustrated with pictures of delicious cakes and cake decorations. Each book also includes simple recipes or biscuit art directions which children can make under adult supervision.
Robbie’s blog includes recipes, fondant and cake artwork, poetry, and book reviews. https://robbiesinspiration.wordpress.com/
Treasuring Poetry – Meet author and poet, Marcia Meara, and a book review #poetry #readingcommunity #TreasuringPoetry
Posted: April 19, 2023 Filed under: Book Review, Books, Interview, Poetry, Review, Treasuring Poetry | Tags: A Boy Named Rabbit, Marcia Meara, Poetry, Robbie Cheadle, Summer Magic, Treasuring Poetry, Writing to be Read 90 CommentsToday, I am delighted to welcome poet and author, Marcia Meara, as my April Treasuring Poetry guest. Marcia is sharing some of her thoughts about poetry and poems and I am sharing my reviews of A Boy Named Rabbit: Wake-Robin Ridge Book 2 and
Why do you write poetry?
I’ve written poetry since I was 5-years old, when I filled legal tablets with page after page of verses about cowboys and horses. (As imagined by a little girl who’d seen a few movies.) I really can’t remember when I didn’t love writing, and poems were what got me started. The rhythm and musicality of poetry is what I love most, and the main reason I still write poems today.
Do you think poetry is still a relevant form of expressing ideas in our modern world? If yes, why?
I think poems are very relevant, indeed. Poetry speaks of beauty and love and hate and danger and betrayal and every other human emotion, need, or failing. Do I think it’s as popular as it once was? No. Nor does it sell as well as novels and other works of fiction. But neither of those has any bearing on the actual relevance of poetry, and the more readers we poets manage to attract, the more likely folks are to understand exactly that.
Which poem by any other poet that you’ve read do you relate to the most and why?
That’s difficult to say, since I’ve been reading poetry for 75 years or so, including most of the greatest ones from poets like Edgar Allan Poe, Emily Dickinson, William Wordsworth, Amy Lowell, Elizabeth Barrett Browning, Robert Browning, Edna St. Vincent Millay, John Keats, Alfred Lord Tennyson, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Percy Bysshe Shelley, Walt Whitman, Dylan Thomas, Carl Sandberg, T. S. Eliot, Sara Teasdale, Ogden Nash, and on and on. You get my drift, I’m sure. It’s very hard for me to choose a favorite, but one poem I have always loved and never tire of is Poe’s The Raven. It’s long, I know, but the rhythm is so perfect, and the painful sadness of the subject, so very, very POE.
The Raven
Edgar Allan Poe – 1809-1849
Once upon a midnight dreary, while I pondered, weak and weary,
Over many a quaint and curious volume of forgotten lore—
While I nodded, nearly napping, suddenly there came a tapping,
As of someone gently rapping, rapping at my chamber door—
“Tis some visitor,” I muttered, “tapping at my chamber door—
Only this and nothing more.”
Ah, distinctly I remember it was in the bleak December;
And each separate dying ember wrought its ghost upon the floor.
Eagerly I wished the morrow;—vainly I had sought to borrow
From my books surcease of sorrow—sorrow for the lost Lenore—
For the rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore—
Nameless here for evermore.
And the silken, sad, uncertain rustling of each purple curtain
Thrilled me—filled me with fantastic terrors never felt before;
So that now, to still the beating of my heart, I stood repeating,
“‘Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door—
Some late visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door;—
This it is and nothing more.”
Presently my soul grew stronger; hesitating then no longer,
“Sir,” said I, “or Madam, truly your forgiveness I implore;
But the fact is I was napping, and so gently you came rapping,
And so faintly you came tapping, tapping at my chamber door,
That I scarce was sure I heard you”—here I opened wide the door;—
Darkness there and nothing more.
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
Doubting, dreaming dreams no mortal ever dared to dream before;
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “Lenore?”
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “Lenore!”—
Merely this and nothing more.
Back into the chamber turning, all my soul within me burning,
Soon again I heard a tapping somewhat louder than before.
“Surely,” said I, “surely that is something at my window lattice;
Let me see, then, what thereat is, and this mystery explore—
Let my heart be still a moment and this mystery explore;—
‘Tis the wind and nothing more!”
Open here I flung the shutter, when, with many a flirt and flutter,
In there stepped a stately Raven of the saintly days of yore;
Not the least obeisance made he; not a minute stopped or stayed he;
But, with mien of lord or lady, perched above my chamber door—
Perched upon a bust of Pallas just above my chamber door—
Perched, and sat, and nothing more.
Then this ebony bird beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
By the grave and stern decorum of the countenance it wore,
“Though thy crest be shorn and shaven, thou,” I said, “art sure no craven,
Ghastly grim and ancient Raven wandering from the Nightly shore—
Tell me what thy lordly name is on the Night’s Plutonian shore!”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
Much I marvelled this ungainly fowl to hear discourse so plainly,
Though its answer little meaning—little relevancy bore;
For we cannot help agreeing that no living human being
Ever yet was blest with seeing bird above his chamber door—
Bird or beast upon the sculptured bust above his chamber door,
With such name as “Nevermore.”
But the Raven, sitting lonely on the placid bust, spoke only
That one word, as if his soul in that one word he did outpour.
Nothing further then he uttered—not a feather then he fluttered—
Till I scarcely more than muttered “Other friends have flown before—
On the morrow he will leave me, as my hopes have flown before.”
Then the bird said “Nevermore.”
Startled at the stillness broken by reply so aptly spoken,
“Doubtless,” said I, “what it utters is its only stock and store
Caught from some unhappy master whom unmerciful Disaster
Followed fast and followed faster till his songs one burden bore—
Till the dirges of his Hope that melancholy burden bore
Of ‘Never—nevermore.'”
But the Raven still beguiling my sad fancy into smiling,
Straight I wheeled a cushioned seat in front of bird, and bust and door;
Then, upon the velvet sinking, I betook myself to linking
Fancy unto fancy, thinking what this ominous bird of yore—
What this grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt and ominous bird of yore
Meant in croaking “Nevermore.”
This I sat engaged in guessing, but no syllable expressing
To the fowl whose fiery eyes now burned into my bosom’s core;
This and more I sat divining, with my head at ease reclining
On the cushion’s velvet lining that the lamp-light gloated o’er,
But whose velvet violet lining with the lamp-light gloating o’er,
She shall press, ah, nevermore!
Then, methought, the air grew denser, perfumed from an unseen censer
Swung by Seraphim whose foot-falls tinkled on the tufted floor.
“Wretch,” I cried, “thy God hath lent thee—by these angels he hath sent thee
Respite—respite and nepenthe, from thy memories of Lenore;
Quaff, oh quaff this kind nepenthe and forget this lost Lenore!”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil!—prophet still, if bird or devil!—
Whether Tempter sent, or whether tempest tossed thee here ashore,
Desolate yet all undaunted, on this desert land enchanted—
On this home by Horror haunted—tell me truly, I implore—
Is there—is there balm in Gilead?—tell me—tell me, I implore!”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
“Prophet!” said I, “thing of evil—prophet still, if bird or devil!
By that Heaven that bends above us—by that God we both adore—
Tell this soul with sorrow laden if, within the distant Aidenn,
It shall clasp a sainted maiden whom the angels name Lenore—
Clasp a rare and radiant maiden whom the angels name Lenore.”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
“Be that word our sign in parting, bird or fiend!” I shrieked, upstarting—
“Get thee back into the tempest and the Night’s Plutonian shore!
Leave no black plume as a token of that lie thy soul hath spoken!
Leave my loneliness unbroken!—quit the bust above my door!
Take thy beak from out my heart, and take thy form from off my door!”
Quoth the Raven “Nevermore.”
And the Raven, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting
On the pallid bust of Pallas just above my chamber door;
And his eyes have all the seeming of a demon’s that is dreaming,
And the lamp-light o’er him streaming throws his shadow on the floor;
And my soul from out that shadow that lies floating on the floor
Shall be lifted—nevermore!
Which of your own poems is your favourite and why?
I could say whichever one I’m writing at the time, but that wouldn’t be fair. Nor likely true, either, though I do think each one is a favorite at least during the moments of creation. However, instead of going that route, I’m going to choose the poem which most depicts large portions of my own life, spent canoeing on the wild and scenic rivers and creeks of Central Florida. Fittingly, it’s called On the River, and is included in my book, Summer Magic: Poems of Life & Love.
An extract from On The River by Marcia Meara
“Crystal green flows beneath me,
Leafy arches rise above,
Dip, glide.
Dip, glide.
Slide.
Duckweed parts as I float by.
I wonder where they went,
Those ducks?
Gone overnight, it seems.
Another parting, another loss,
And I slide by,
Under all that green.
Dip, glide.
Dip, glide.
Just there, in deepest shade,
Sleeping emeralds cling.
Tree frogs rest in their
Smooth, damp skins,
Waiting for the sliver moon.
They’ll open their eyes for the silver moon.
Sleeping now,
I pass him, too.
And on I go.
Dip, glide.
Dip, glide.”
Is writing poetry easy for you compared to prose or do you do a lot of editing and revision of your poems?
Oddly enough, I seldom do much, if any, editing on my poetry. When I’m “in the zone” the words I want seem to come to me, sometimes surprising me by fitting together exactly the way I like. This is definitely not true when I’m writing prose. Then, I spend a lot of time cleaning up, tweaking, and cutting before sending it off to an editor for more of the same. With poetry, if I’m in the mood, the words seem to flow much more smoothly and easily.
What mode (blog, books, YouTube, podcasts) do you find the most effective for sharing your poems with poetry lovers and readers?
I’ve actually never done any real marketing with my work, be it poetry or prose, and that’s something I do hope to change soon. But all I did with my book of poetry was publish it on Amazon and share poems now and then on my blog, The Write Stuff. NOTE: This is NOT how I would recommend new writers get the word out, no matter what their genre or style might be!
My review of Summer Magic: Poems of Life and Love by Marcia Meara
This book comprises the most beautiful freestyle poetry by Marcia Meara. The poetry is divided into two sections, the first is about the magic of life as experienced by a ten year old boy and the second is about love.
I loved both sections of the book but the poems about the joys and experiences of a ten year old boy were particularly poignant and meaningful for me as I have two sons who were ten years old in the not that distant past.
The two poems in this section that I enjoyed the most are, firstly, The Rope Swing which depicts the freedom and joy of swinging on a hot summer day. The depiction of a young boy of ten is very accurate and brings back lovely memories for me.
My second favourite poem is entitled Moccasins and describes the lovely and understanding relationship moms have with their sons.
The Rope Swing
The first stanza goes as follows:
“Sailing up, up into
Blue summer sky,
Hot rope rough against his hands,
He shouts with joy, and lets go.
For a crystal moment,
He hangs suspended,
Frozen in time
Like a fly in amber.”
Moccasins
“His dad smiles.
Moms are like that, Mac.
Moms always know what
Their children want most.
And Moms always want
Their children to have their
Heart’s desires.”
The poem I enjoyed the most in part two of the book describes the beauty of young love and the joy of watching small children play and develop.
The Sound of Dreams Coming True
“Listen, she says,
Kissing his fingers,
As a little girl laughs,
Chasing butterflies
With her big brother.”
Purchase Summer Magic: Poems of Life and Love by Marcia Meara here: https://www.amazon.com/Summer-Magic-Poems-Life-Love-ebook/dp/B00FNBLIPC
My review of A Boy Named Rabbit: Wake-Robin Ridge Book 2 by Marcia Meara
Sarah Gray and MacKenzie Cole from book 1, Wake-Robin Ridge, are now married and living in Mac’s lovely home built near the top of the mountain. Sarah is pregnant with their first child and Mac is happy and managing to keep his deep anxiety following the deaths of his ex-wife and son, Ben, under control. Mac’s emotional state is still delicate and he is desperately determined to keep his wife and their baby safe.
Ten-year old Rabbit has grown up in the mountains under the guidance and care of his grandparents who have taught him survival skills. The trios lifestyle is rough and ready with Gran living in a makeshift tent and the young boy and his grandpa generally sleeping outdoors in all weathers. At Grandpa’s insistence, the family has nothing to do with any people who are all designated as ‘bad people’ by Grandpa.
Gran has a progressive lung illness and Grandpa leaves his wife and Rabbit on their own one morning to travel into town and purchase medicine for her. He never returns. Gran continues to decline and, knowing she is dying, tells Rabbit that all people are not bad. She explains that contrary to Grandpa’s comments, there are also good people and Rabbit needs to find the good people, in particular, a man with winter blue eyes and hair like a crow’s wing. Gran dies and Rabbit is left on his own in the wilderness. With no other option, Rabbit packs up his belongings and sets off to find the man with the winter blue eyes.
Rabbit is well depicted as an old soul with a high intelligence despite his lack of book learning. His upbringing has provided him with survival tools and also the ability to assess situations and react in a clear headed and calm way. He is very endearing to the reader with his interesting way of looking at situations while still retaining the need for love and emotional immaturity of a young boy. He is very loving and giving and the reader can’t help routing for a good outcome for Rabbit.
Mac’s character continues to grow in this second book as he is faced with having to face up to his fears and deal with unexpected and unplanned events and circumstances despite his fears and anxieties. It is an intriguing journey to watch Mac struggling internally to move forward despite his anxiety and it is impossible not to be delighted by his progress and small victories.
Sarah is even more generous and loving than I remembered from book 1, and is the perfect wife to Mac. It is obvious she has a huge heart which is big enough for Mac, her unborn child, and Rabbit.
As with all lives, especially in fiction, the trio are faced with adversity and obstacles which they need to try to overcome. The storyline is engaging and entertaining and brings out the best in the various characters.
Purchase A Boy Named Rabbit here: https://www.amazon.com/Boy-Named-Rabbit-Wake-Robin-Ridge-ebook/dp/B00SQ4PID6
About Marcia Meara
Marcia Meara lives in central Florida, just north of Orlando, with her husband of over thirty years and four big cats.
When not writing or blogging, she spends her time gardening, and enjoying the surprising amount of wildlife that manages to make a home in her suburban yard. She enjoys nature. Really, really enjoys it. All of it! Well, almost all of it, anyway. From birds, to furry critters, to her very favorites, snakes. The exception would be spiders, which she truly loathes, convinced that anything with eight hairy legs is surely up to no good. She does not, however, kill spiders anymore, since she knows they have their place in the world. Besides, her husband now handles her Arachnid Catch and Release Program, and she’s good with that.
Spiders aside, the one thing Marcia would like to tell each of her readers is that it’s never too late to make your dreams come true. If, at the age of 69, she could write and publish a book (and thus fulfill 64 years of longing to do that very thing), you can make your own dreams a reality, too. Go for it! What have you got to lose?
Purchase Marcia Meara’s books
Novels
Wake-Robin Ridge: Book 1
A Boy Named Rabbit: Wake-Robin Ridge Book 2
Harbinger: Wake-Robin Ridge Book 3
The Light: Wake-Robin Ridge Book 4
Swamp Ghosts: Riverbend Book 1
Finding Hunter: Riverbend Book 2
That Darkest Place: Riverbend Book 3
Riverbend Spinoff Novellas
The Emissary 1
The Emissary 2 – To Love Somebody
The Emissary 3 – Love Hurts
Poetry
Summer Magic: Poems of Life and Love
Reach Marcia on Social Media Here:
Blog: The Write Stuff
Facebook
Email: marciameara16[at]gmail[dot]com
About Robbie Cheadle
Award-winning, bestselling author, Robbie Cheadle, has published thirteen children’s book and two poetry books. Her work has also appeared in poetry and short story anthologies.
Robbie also has two novels published under the name of Roberta Eaton Cheadle and has horror, paranormal, and fantasy short stories featured in several anthologies under this name.
The ten Sir Chocolate children’s picture books, co-authored by Robbie and Michael Cheadle, are written in sweet, short rhymes which are easy for young children to follow and are illustrated with pictures of delicious cakes and cake decorations. Each book also includes simple recipes or biscuit art directions which children can make under adult supervision.
Robbie’s blog includes recipes, fondant and cake artwork, poetry, and book reviews. https://robbiesinspiration.wordpress.com/