Poetry Night at the Writing Life, 22 March 2025
My poetry's all over the place. Let's see where it takes us.
Hi, everyone, welcome to Poetry Night.
The poetry has been coming fast and loose for me. There’s times where I have no idea what I’m going to write about, and other times when the words flow for me.
You might know I am a teacher, but did you know there is no requirement in the state curriculum of Iowa (where I live and teach) for us to teach about poetry? It’s a fact. But maybe it’s for the best. Poetry is one of those things you can’t force down someone’s throat. They have to be drawn to it, like I was later in life.
I never want to say I’ve got a handle on it, but during the past several months it feels to me I have a better handle on how to be creative in the poetry genre. But I’ve been writing either pro or semi-pro for nearly 30 years now, and there’s no way I will ever say I know everything there is to know about writing. To paraphrase the Russian chess champion Alexander Alekhine, an entire lifetime is not long enough to learn everything there is to know about writing. And I definitely don’t have enough time to learn everything there is to learn about poetry. So, I always have to keep in mind I’m always learning no matter what.
If You’re Interested in Poetry…
My first collection of poetry is out now.
The Flow and the Journey
As I’ve mentioned previously in this space, I came into writing poetry more or less under protest.
Since Substack doesn’t have the setup for this, I’ve set up something at my Wordpress sister site, Liegois Media. I set up my own Internet storefront page where you can order my chapbook for $6 per copy. The link is below.
https://liegois.media/product/the-flow-and-the-journey/
Now, on to the poetry.
This weekend I found myself again (slightly to my surprise) on the road and away from my expected places. I spent a lot of time in between places to stay due to circumstances beyond my control last year around this time, and it ended up inspiring quite a bit of poetry. To me, it’s not a surprise tonight inspired at least one more poem, as well. This was influenced not just by my own situation, but the circumstances of a group of people I have been looking into for research regarding another fiction project I have going on.
Poetry Night at the Writing Life, 27 April 2024
Hey, everyone, Happy National Poetry Month, and welcome to the poetry slam. 🙂
350 Days
22 March 2025, Des Moines, Iowa
As I hang out
In an overly equipped hotel room
I realize I’ve gone back
To life on the road.
I have to admit I’ve whined
About not knowing the rules of where I’ve traveled
Or the procedures
Or the routines
Or how to pack up and pack out
When I get on the road.
But as I try to accentuate the positive
And eliminate the negative in my life
I learn about how pro wrestlers
Who are people I admire in my life
Had to spend 350 days out of 365
On the road
At their craft
Making money to support themselves and others
On at least two different continents.
I wonder
I speculate
How much change and discombobulation
They had to go through
While getting their bodies and brains beaten in.
I submitted an earlier version of this poem to the Midwest Writing Center’s Iron Pen contest for the poetry category. I thought I did well, but the Society of Great River poets from Burlington, Iowa, had a few good suggestions for me. Those results and my own combine to the poem you will see below.
Our People, Our Tribe
28 February 2025, Fort Madison, Iowa
I spent years gathering electronic friends through screens large and small
Only to find them as elusive as electrons
And just as invisible.
People who purported to be what they showed me in pictures and videos
But whose existences were no more permanent
Than flashes of static.
Once I traveled the electronic highways and byways to find my own people,
But the bots and electronic beings clogged the wires and waves
With no place for humans.
So I left those places.
I traveled longer in the analog world, epic treks compared to electronic laps
True humans and potential friends were sparse in the expanse
I found them.
People with whom I shared their homes, cooked their meals,
Whom I lived with, not observed and judged
And came to grok.
In the end, I found my modest tribe, insignificant to the electronic hordes,
We built our own world, we few and true
With our love for each other.
That’s it for tonight. We’ll see what April brings.