Category Archives: Poetry

Billy the Kid

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Before I begin, here is your Monday Public Service Announcement:

Happy Monday. Have a great rest of the week. I love you. I appreciate you.

When I lived in Albuquerque, I started working on a book of poetry about Billy the Kid, aka William H. Bonney, aka Henry McCarty—his birth name. I was still in the research stage when life happened, and I moved back to Kennewick, and became involved in other things. I still dream of going back to New Mexico, Fort Sumner, etc., and doing research, and writing the poems, but then, I’m a dreamer, eh?

In the meantime, someone in my critique group recommended a book last year, Coming Through Slaughter, a fictionalized biography of New Orleans jazz pioneer Buddy Bolden and is partly set in Slaughter, Louisiana, by Michael Ondaatje. I enjoyed the book, so when I found The Collected Works of Billy the Kid also by Michael Ondaatje, I had to read it, too. And I was not disappointed!

There is not a great deal known about Billy, but there is some information out there, and Ondaatje did a marvelous job of using what little is known as a springboard for his poetry and prose. It reads like a journal, or maybe a better description is a collection of his (Billy’s) papers, what were found, often without beginning or ending. Some of the poems actually have titles, or at least attribution as to who wrote them, as “Miss Sallie Chisum” by Sallie Chisum describing Billy “As far as dress was concerned / he always looked as if / he had just stepped out of a bandbox.” She goes on to describe his clothing, finishing with, “he was the pink of politeness / and as courteous a little gentleman / as I ever met.” From what I’ve found about Billy in what little research I’ve accomplished, this was a fairly accurate description of him.

By many accounts I’ve read, Billy was a gentleman, at least where the ladies were concerned. He dressed well, he was polite, he was bi-lingual (English and Spanish) and possibly tri-lingual. There is some information out there he spoke Gaelic, probably learned at his mother’s knee.

If you’re looking for a good and plausible book about Billy, I highly recommend The Collected Works of Billy the Kid.  It’s great fun. If you’re looking for a scholarly account of the young man’s life, this isn’t for you. And yes, there is the conspiracy that Garrett shot the wrong man, claimed he was Billy, buried him, and collected the reward and that Billy once again escaped, made it to Mexico or someplace, lived a quiet life as a law-abiding citizen, married, and had a family, etc., etc., etc. Billy was a master at aliases and escapes, so this isn’t entirely unbelievable.

Oh, and in the interest of transparency, or just kinda interesting stuff, when Daddy was a youngster, he met a man who knew Pat Garret who is credited with killing Billy the Kid. We are closer to history than we sometimes realize.

My Friday

Those of you who know me, know I’m not really a morning person. Oh, I get up early enough, because when I wake up enough to answer the early morning calls of bladder and dog, I’m up. I try not to get up before 4am, but sometimes it’s earlier, and if I go back to bed, I just lie there for a couple of hours and I might as well be up and at the computer with my cuppa joe. Like this morning, Sunday. Yes, I’m up, but I’m not cognizant, I’m not ready for thinking, for talking, for doing much beyond watching something on the computer and maybe, if I’m lucky, getting a few words written on the virtual paper before me. Somewhere around 9am, I actually become functionally awake 😉

So, this past Friday, I signed up for a poetry workshop, that started at my time of 7am. It was something like 3 hours long, and very interesting. I actually got 4 poems written during that time. No, they are not ready to be abandoned, but they are good enough to warrant some editing and maybe submission. Then, later that afternoon, I attended my weekly workshop of prompts, and wrote two more poems, also pretty good first drafts. Aren’t you glad I don’t share all the poetry I write with you? Since 1 Jan this year, I’ve written 90. Boy Howdy, do I know how to have fun!!! 😉

How Many Days Until Mid-Term Elections?

BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!!! You really think we’re going to have them? Nope, they ain’t gonna happen, my gentle families and friends. That’s why we’re in an undeclared-by-Congress war, so the Unnamed Person can claim an emergency, and take over and cancel elections, or have them with his goons manning polling places. Yep, we’re closer to history than we realize.

(Please, prove me wrong. Please, please, please.)

be happy, be well, be safe!

Happy Monday. Enjoy the rest of the week. I love you.

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How would your life be different if on the first day of school/kindergarten, you received a card or a note that said: “Happy Monday. Enjoy the rest of the week. I love you.” This card was from your teacher, and s/he explained everyone would make a card for the following Monday, to give to someone in the class, everyone would make a card, everyone would receive a card. And this card exchange would be every Monday for the rest of your school life, through graduation of High School.

How would your life be different if, every Monday through your K-12 school life, you learned to give and receive a gift, homemade or store bought, to one of your classmates? That’s thirteen years of giving and receiving gifts. 

Your brain would have probably been wired toward the perspective of compassion and pro-social thoughts. You would have a moral identity reinforced by friends and family. You would see yourself as a helper person, a caring person, and an ethical person, all of which would help you in decision making.

Your aggressive reactivity would probably be reduced, your social confidence and belonging built and shored up by the frequent positive reaction with strangers and neighbors. Social anxiety would not be nearly as strong, your community attachment and long-term civic orientation would be strengthened.

Children exposed to structured generosity are more likely to engage in volunteering, cooperation, and nonviolent civic participation as adults. The net gain effect of 676* structured acts of kindness during developmental years creates a durable pro-social identity, higher emotional stability, and stronger community trust norms that persist into adulthood. 

The immediately preceding paragraphs are paraphrased from:

America’s Real Threats – And Our Plan to Reduce Them (Without WASHINGTON0  Former Black Panther Speaks: Can America be Saved? This link is to his substack and is free. You can also find it on YouTube. I have his permission to post the substack link. I hope you’ll take the 23 minutes to listen to the whole talk. I hope you’ll subscribe, and watch/listen to all the videos in the series. 

And, as my final paragraph on this topic, please think where we, as a nation, would be if this had started say in 1900, or 1920, or even 1940. And, please, become part of the nationwide network to think and act with strategy, not anger. It is never too late to change.

*The Former Black Panther was counting on 52 weeks a year times 13, most school years are closer to 40 weeks, I think, which would make it closer to 520. But then, there’s no reason during summers and school breaks, that giving couldn’t be carried on with neighbors, which would bring it right back up to 676 or so 😉

Uncoupling, Poems by Margo Davis

All couples will uncouple at some point. Train engines are uncoupled from train cars, children are uncoupled from beloved pets, parents are uncoupled from children, and lovers and life partners are uncoupled through mutual agreement or death. With the (presumably) exception of the trains, the loss of uncoupling brings pain of varying degrees, as well as freedom (of varying degrees) and maybe guilt, and even joy as we acknowledge the happy memories of earlier days, that our beloved is free of pain, of agony and now Rests in Power with their God.

Davis has a marvelous sense of humor that comes through in many (most?) of these poems, from the very first poem, Southern Tradition, “A Southern woman could / lace a rat with garnish / and pass it on. // the mixologist’s cocktails /…/ hurricane comin’!” One of my favorites being Better Times about the old codger, Lassie, Timmy and a three-foot glass of milk. Her humor is anything but juvenile, as noted in her last poem, Breathless In Portugal, “Messejana sheep take me / as I am. Uphill downslide I traverse //…Sleight of Hand. Oh tongue / that I never knew. I knew.”

I found this book delightful and engaging and one with poems I have read more than once! I heartily recommend it. Available through your favorite bookstore or online through https://Bookshop.org

On a More Political Topic

I believe I’ve mentioned a time or two, my favorite political pundit is Keith Olbermann, (my second favorite pundit is David Reddish, but that’s another post). It isn’t just the politics, I enjoy Olbermann’s personal discussions, too. Especially when he talks about famous people, or not quite famous people, he knows or has met. Keith’s sense of humor is marvelous, at least over the air. He is one of the famous people I’d like to have a cup of coffee with, though I’d probably be so tongue-tied I wouldn’t be able to put three words together that made any sense. Anyhow, Thursday’s episode (His podcast, Countdown with Keith Olbermann, airs every Monday and Thursday morning) is a bit long, but the last part, where he talks about Robert Duvall and the movie Network is worth the price of admission. Network, for those of you who, like me, haven’t seen it, is a 1976 American movie about a fictional tv station, UBS, with low ratings, written by Paddy Chayefsky. Olbermann brings up 23 instances in the movie that were prescient to today’s tv networks that were not even thought of when the movie came out, and which when people saw it laughed because those things could never happen. Is it time for a movie? Starring Faye Dunaway, William Holden, Peter Finch, Fobert Duvall, Wesley Addy, and a host of others. Although I could find places where it’s streaming, all the sites want money. Clap if you’re surprised.

Unbuilding (a Book Review)

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Just finished reading a fun book, Unbuilding by David Macaulay. It’s children’s lit, but great fun. In 1989, a Saudi Prince buys the Empire State Building, has it dismantled, labeled, etc., and put on a ship to Saudi where it can be reassembled. This is the story of Unbuilding the Empire State Building. It’s full of pen and ink drawings, and if you have any budding architects, engineers, or builders in your sphere, you might want to consider the book for them. It’s available from Bookshop.org or if you don’t mind a used book, from abebooks.com. Or from your favorite indie bookstore.

I’m going to have to try his other books. Well, some of them. He’s got bunches and they look way fascinating. He’s got at least 25 listed on Bookshop.org. ranging from Castle to The Way Things Work to Mammoth Math: Everything You Need to Know About Numbers to Rome Antics. I’ll probably skip the Mammoth Math—it’s hardback, and I prefer softback /snort/. (for those of you who don’t know, I prefer letters and words to numbers and equal signs)

However, since I’m on the topic of books, when Covid hit, I attended a book launch by Arthur Sze of his book The Glass Constellation sponsored by Rain Taxi. It was via a zoom-type of program, so no one was crammed in a seat next to 100 of their new best friends, we were all given our own little “room” on a screen. Sze was maybe a quarter of the way through with his presentation, and I had already ordered the book. I’d never heard of him before that night, but that’s how impressed I was with his poetry. When my book came, it’s a compendium of several of his earlier books, all bound together with new and selected poems. I literally consumed the book withing r or 5 days. I have since added several other books to my collection, including his latest, or one of his latest ones, Into The Hush. Not only do I love the book, but I was invited to join a group of poets who will gather for 6 meetings to study the book, its poems, and do writings inspired/based on his poems in the book. 

The small group I am in (3 per group) decided to study/work on Letter to Tao Qian. Thanks to Favorite Daughter, I have The Silk Dragon II, a book of Chinese poems Sze translated, and the first 5 poems are by the Ancient Chinese poet, Tao Qian. It’s very interesting to read those 5 poems and find the references in Sze’s poem. Homework has never been such fun. 

My Winter Gift from me to me this year was Sze’s book, The White Orchard. It is a collection of some of his interviews,  essays, and some poetry. The most interesting parts to me are the areas where he talks about how he writes. He often uses disparate phrases and fragments of sentences for his lines, but all of the lines are deliberate, and in a deliberate order. Because we all bring our own stories to the ones we read, we are each given our own interpretation as to what his lines mean. Is he telling us to stop, relax, breathe, acknowledge there is evil in the world, but to spend more time on the beauty? I have started writing “like” Sze, but not like him. My mind is trainable, but I don’t want his voice, I want his style. I want to keep my own voice. I want someone to read my poem and say, “Ah, she’s read Arthur Sze!” It is very difficult for me to think in segments and fragments, but I have written a couple of poems with one-line stanzas, in disparate fragments. I am also working on a long, sectioned poem like he writes, with each section being in a different format. Those are the poems that caused me to order The Glass Constellation.

Of course, there are many poets out there I really like—the ever-gracious Naomi Shihab Nye, the late Lucille Clifton, the late Paul Monette, the effervescent Diane Seuss, and the incomparable Eduardo C. Corral. But I am in Literary Lust with Arthur Sze 😉

Imagine You Are Madame Dorion

So, I log onto YouTube and am looking at the videos on my home page, and notice a photo of buffalo in a snow storm that looks familiar, like one I took, and then I look at the words, and it IS one of my photos from when my friend and publisher of Madame Dorion put together a promo video for my book. Wow! Something from ten years ago showed up—a whole video of my photos.  On my YouTube home page. If you didn’t get it on your home page, it is here — a smidge under 7 minutes. And, if you haven’t read the book, you can find it at your favorite bookstore (they may have to order it) or at bookshop.org. Historical fiction at its finest, not that I’m biased—or bragging. By the way, the cover on Madame Dorion was painted by a descendant of Madame Dorion.

And Remember

If you don’t yet have your copy of Saying Goodbye to Thomas, you may pick up, or order, a copy from your favorite bookstore, or order a copy here, at Bookshop.org. All proceeds go to the ALS Association and End of Life Washington/Death With Dignity.

William Stafford Challenge

Today, 16 February 2026, is the 31st day of the William Stafford Challenge. The Challenge goes from 17 Jan to 17 Jan (his birthday, and we write a poem a day), on the 17th of January, I had written 22 poems, having started on the first of January. By this morning my number of poems written is currently 68. More will come this day, I am sure. 

Now, they aren’t all good poems, though a couple are, but they are all seeds to go back and edit, revise, and have good poems emerge. 

A fond memory of my road trip through the Southwest a couple years ago. The tall skinny ones are saguaro cactus. It was warm. Blessedly warm.

Be Happy, Be Well, Be Safe

Preach it, Rev. Staceypants!

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Good morning! It is cold out (30F), and dark (6:30am), and I’ve already spent a couple of hours on poetry. My computer is playing soft, ambient music, Sammy the Bravest Dog, has been out and is now back on the bed, sleeping. Sometimes, he truly acts more like a cat than a dog, but I’ve promised not to tell his union representative 😉 After all, I did ask for a cat, and got him.

I am setting a new morning habit. I now get up, turn on my computer, and put four items on my playlist. This mornings were two of Ilia Malinan skating, one mildly political (the National Opera has pulled out of The Kennedy Center Memorial), and finishing with the hours long ambient music. I am also trying to limit my news, especially political news to two days a week—Mondays and Thursdays.

Why those two days, you may be wondering? Well, it’s easy. Those are the two mornings Countdown with Keith Olbermann is on. I admit, if I see something from David Reddish, I do tend to watch it, because a) he’s cute and b) he usually has some good snark to make me laugh.

I also watch not political news, and news not laden with American Politics. you know, fun stuff like Ukrainian winning, wars, revolutions, cats, volcanoes, Don Kim upcycling old jeans into designer bags, Quilt Like an Artist, and AI stories which don’t mean to be funny but I can’t help LOLOLOLing, because they are.

I am trying to get back to writing on a regular basis, and don’t need/want all the distractions of YouTube. Well, yes, I want them, but then I don’t write. Squirrel!! And as you may have gathered, writing is hard work.

I have resigned from my volunteer work, which was not an easy decision. I miss helping people, but let’s be honest, at my age, I ain’t as young as I used to was! At least that’s what my body keeps telling me;-) That, and it’s time to act my age—where’s the fun in that?

I also need to get back to reading. Yes, I spent a year reading very little. It’s so much easier to listen to the mindless AI stories. Incidentally, the SF/F ones, especially HFY are pretty entertaining. IF you like SF/F, give them a try. But, please, I beg of you, do not leave any comments or clicks on them. Don’t help them get better or make it harder for a human writer.

Speaking of AI, a friend sent me an interesting article on X, Footprints in the Sand: The House You Thought Was Emptyby @iruletheworldmo. Or maybe @iruletheworldmo just reposted it? I don’t know, but it is an interesting, and somewhat disconcerting if not downright scary, article on AI. My cousin pointed out to me that Yuval Noah Harari has been writing articles about this for some time. Anyhow, as my friend said when he sent it, it could be written by AI for all he knows. If you can’t open it, and want to read it, please let me know.

Oh, if you haven’t yet discovered Dr. Stacey Patton, you’re in for a treat. Especially her Sunday Sermons! Yes indeedy, this old Atheist is back in the pews yellin’ Amen! and Preach it Rev Staceypants! and anything else appropriate. I think it takes a modicum of courage to read Dr. Stacey’s columns, etc., because she is not dainty, diplomatic, or quiet. She yells it as she sees it and that’s got to be hard on some readers, especially those raised white and privileged. Google her. Check her out. She’s my kinda person!!!

I’ve now read this morning’s sermon, and finished this piece. It is now 7:30am, and the cold (31F) outside my window is black and white, in another 30 minutes or so, it will be in freezing color, but it’s o’cast, and no true sunlight, yet.

And here is my photo of the week. I took it out of my office window of an afternoon a few days ago. Those are Canada Geese in the sky, coming in for a landing.

Have a Marvelous Week, remember to be grateful you’re still looking down at the grass. Remember the words of our Dalai Lama that pain is inevitable, suffering is optional. And tell someone you love them this day.

The Book has Launched

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I was at The Book Tree in Kirkland, WA on Saturday 2 August 2025, to read some poetry from Saying Goodbye to Thomas and other poems to officially launch the book, to send it out into bookstores and the hands and hearts of readers.

I spent time figuring out how condense the video my Sister of Choice, Lee, took of m reading. Finally called my Guru, and he said why not just load it to YouTube and put the link in. So, I did. This was in a bookstore, and you’ll hear me read AND the door bell, as the door opens and closes.

Enjoy the reading. Enjoy meeting Thomas if you weren’t one of the most fortunate to have known him in life, meet him in spirit.

The ISBN: 979-8899900471, take it, the title Saying Goodbye to Thomas, my name ah, come on, you know be my now, I’m Lenora Rain-Lee Good–your favorite Auntie Lenora, and go into your favorite brick and mortar bookstore to order your copy (either paper back or hardback). Remember, all proceeds/royalties will be divided equally between ALS Association and Death With Dignity.

Aho!

It’s Monday, and time for a coffee break escape!

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Goodest Monday Morning to You All!

Thank you for your patience while I took a few weeks off. I wasn’t sure where the Brave Dog and I were going, in regards to our Monday Coffee Break Escapes. Part of this is my volunteer job, which is taking more and more time, which is a good thing as I’m happy to be busy, but can also play havoc with any schedule I may have whether or not self imposed;-)

First off, MANY MANY THANKS to all of you who pre ordered my book, Saying Goodbye to Thomas. If you haven’t yet done so, and now can’t find the link, well, here it is: https://www.finishinglinepress.com/product/saying-goodbye-to-thomas-by-lenora-rain-lee-good/ and please remember two things:

1. Pre orders determine future royalties, so please order now, before it’s too late and your price goes up.

2. ALL royalties will be donated to the ALS Association and End of Life Washington, equally.

Here is a poem from the book. It has previously appeared in the newletters of A Sacred Passing and End of Life Washington.

Your Death, Rehearsed

I rehearsed your death—
            did you know?

First, it was now and
            then, slowly became

weekly and then
            nightly.

Not that I wanted
           you to die—

We both knew
            you would.

No, I rehearsed
            your death

so I wouldn’t come
            apart at the seams,

so I wouldn’t
            bring shame to you,

to me. It helped,
            I think.

Oh, I still hurt,
            I still cry

but softly. And when
            you breathed your last

as I held your hand
            softly stroked your arm,

I could barely form
            the words, let alone

force sound out of my tear-
            constricted throat

It’s over. And then
            we all cried, held each other.

None of us could find,
            or define, the hole

that suddenly engulfed
            us, the hole

that gave dimension
            to our loss

the hole
            drilled through our hearts.

~ ~ ~

Yes, this one is sad, I’ll try for some humor next week.

You may notice there is a different format to today’s post. Or, perhaps, lack of format? Do you like it better or not?

Sammy says he may, or may not, return. The days are getting warmer, sunnier (yayyy!!), and he’s not sure about schedules other than feedings and walks. He’s stealing my line and claiming to be old and gray-haired.

Attended my first protest yesterday. There were more than a 1000 of us turned out for the Hands Off! protest in Kennewick, there was another protest in Richland, and I’m not sure about Pasco. Not sure how much good it did, but I feel like I’ve done something positive, so that’s worth the time and the standing. Am already planning my signs for next month. 😉

However you spend your week, please spend it with love in your heart and remember:

Mitákuye Oyás’iŋ “We are all related” 
~ Lakota Saying

“Re-examine all you have been told. 
Dismiss what insults your soul.” 
~Walt Whitman

As You May Imagine

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Weather in the Tries:

Oof Da! Can you say: Sun? Can you say: Hot? Yep, that be us. Am listening to the ambient music, Miyamoto Musashi: Embracing Loneliness. Not that I’m lonely, but it’s raining in the video. You know, cool.

As you may imagine:
Well, I imagine you can imagine this past week was not the bestest in my world. It took a few days for me to get over SCOTUS’ ruling on Monday. Maybe not over it, but through it. Through most of it. 

On the sunny side of the street, I was in a bookstore the other day, and came home with two books. Yeah, I know, you’re so surprised. /snort/ One is a book of poetry by Margaret Atwater. I love her poetry, and haven’t seen a new book of hers in a long time. So I am reading Dearly before I turn the light out at night.

The second book is, The Book of Delights by Ross Gay. A small book, maybe 5” x 8”, filled with delightful 2-3 page essays he wrote over a year finding delights where he could, including memories. It is a delightful book, and just what the doctor ordered!

Should you find yourself wandering in a bookstore, wander over to the poetry/essay section and look through his book. Take the time to read a couple of his essays. Shucks, while you’re there, look at Dearly by Margaret Atwood, even if you don’t like poetry. Particularly if you don’t like poetry! Her poems are mini stories in a different form. Try a couple. Perhaps you will walk out of the store with two books (or more).

Also, I discovered some new-to-me channels on YouTube and I thoroughly enjoy them—woodturning and woodworking channels! Absolutely great ways to get my eyes and ears out of the news that is so damn depressing. My two favorite woodworking channels are Foureyes furniture and Blacktail Studio. The guys are fun, they explain what they are doing, what they did wrong, and how they fixed it. I love how they work, too. Would I ever spend $15K on a table? uh, no, but if I decided to, it would be from one of these two guys. And I must be learning something—on Sunday I decided to watch someone else make a table. I was quite taken with the top and I wanted to see how he made it. He made it cheaply. Where the guys above glue and clamp, this guy used way less glue and nails. Where Chris (?) and Cam (above furniture builders) take the time to get every join perfect, where they use several grits of sandpaper, where they spend time finishing their work, the table I was so taken by was very shoddily made. The joins did not match, the sanding was perfunctory, and the finish was sprayed on. I watch they guys for entertainment, but apparently, I’m also getting an education.

If you are in the market for some new and high quality furniture, I strongly suggest you watch a few episodes of the guys at the links above. Not that I’m recommending them to you (which I am) but to see how they work, and what to look for when you go shopping. 

By the way, Cam at Blacktail Studio is the one who came up with the Damascus Denim Desk. Yes, a desk made out of denim. Check it out here. Talk about fabric art!!!

Photo of the Week:
Yep, it’s me. I had to get some new headshots for the new book, Saying Goodbye to Thomas, which will be ready for pre-order probably in in Feb/Mar 2025. As you undoubtedly know, there are few things I hate worse than having my picture taken. From my POV, I look like Sophia Loren. From the camera’s POV, I look like me. God, what a let-down for all concerned.

photo by Katrina

from the desk of the hot dog;
the one and only bad thing about the heat is sometimes the hard, black surface of the driveway where most of my walking is done, is too hot for my feets. otherwise, all this sun and hot is pure heaven for this desert dog. can you see my tail wag.

Music of the Week:
Miyamoto Musashi: Embracing Loneliness. Great ambient music to have on, turned low, and write or study by. There are several pieces online for this music. I think if I could play it on the bedside radio I do not have, I could easily sleep with it. No, it doesn’t make me sleepy (couldn’t work or study if it did) but I think it would make great sleeping music.

Quote of the Week:

“Re-examine all you have been told.
Dismiss what insults your soul.”
—Walt Whitman

ps: 
Looking for a nightmare? Give this site a once or twice over: American Autocracy Threat Tracker. Truly scary stuff! But necessary. How sad is that?

Saying Goodbye to Thomas

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Weather in the Tries:
Oh my goodness gracious sakes alive! A week of sunshine is ahead of us. A tad cooler than yesterday, the temps will mostly be in the 80s until the weekend, when it will drop to the 70s. And the humidity, though higher in the morning and night, will be low enough that the heat will be heavenly.

Saying Goodbye to Thomas:
In case you missed the wee bit in last week’s post about my chapbook being accepted, Finishing Line Press has accepted my chapbook, Saying Goodbye to Thomas. These are the poems I wrote, mostly in the final months of his life, about his dying. No, they are not all doom and gloom, you know me better than that. At any rate I think I’ve calmed down a wee bit from the excitement. It will spike again, when I get the contract. Then it will be really real;-) 

Here is their acceptance. Well, a small portion thereof, I’m sure you don’t want to read the whole thing. This is the important part:

“Thank you for submitting to us. Your manuscript has been accepted for publication. We would love to publish your book.” Every time I read those three sentences I just get giddy all over again 😉

Please check Finishing Line Press out and consider buying a book. Small Press publishers are a mainstay for poets. Not sure which one to buy, get Finding Her by Kristie L. Williams. It’s a great book.

I’m a writer, I’m used to rejection. But sometimes, when enough come with no breaks, it’s hard to remember that editors aren’t rejecting me, they are rejecting my work. And they can reject it for a myriad of reasons. Maybe I used a word they don’t like, or I wrote about peace instead of war, or I wrote it in this form and they really love another form. Or, as so many rejection/pass letters state, my work just didn’t grab them. Any and all of those reasons are valid, plus the plethora I didn’t list.

It’s really nice when acceptance letters come in like rejections usually do. Within a month, I had something like 8 poems accepted/published. Huzzah! for editors 😉

Depending on your frame of mind, you may or may not want to download the WeCroak app. They will send you 5 messages a day to remind you, you are not a permanent fixture as a live person. It’s inspired by a Bhutanese folk saying: to be a happy person, one must contemplate death five times daily. I just went to the computer one, and they have “the final word on advice columns” you can ask Death for advice on current events, relationships, etc. and so forth. I’m enjoying it very much, but then, I’m weird. However, should you get it for your phone or ipad or watch or whatever, let me know what you think of it. They have both ios and android.

I keep hearing Johnny Mathis singing Chances Are. Yeah, I’m wearing that silly grin, but it’s not because I’m in love with some guy, it’s because my book about my Elder Brother of Choice is being published. Oh, happy dance, happy dance. Oh, wait. Yeah, I am in love with some guy. He’s a spoiled rescue dog!

Speaking of being a spoiled dog, he’s finally taking treats from my hand! That’s huge. I used to have to set them down and walk away, or gently toss them near him. Even the one that looks like a stick to him. Especially the stick one. Now he takes it from my hand. Sometimes it takes a bit. I’d sure like to know how badly he was abused. I think it’s worse than I imagine, which makes me want to hold him and cry and then go find the abuser and abuse him the same way he abused this poor puppy.

Photos of the Week:

Thomas loved watching the bunnies in the yard.

And he loved tossing peanuts out for the crows. One was fairly tame, Thomas called him Podjo, Old Friend.

This Rosemary plant is huge, and was right next to the outside door to Thomas’s area, and when the sun shone, and it was warm, we’d open the door and enjoy the perfume.

from the desk of the big chihuahua;
my human seems tremendously happy i am now taking treats from her hand. i wish i could tell her why it took so long, but she has been patient. sometimes, i still can’t do it, but she doesn’t seem upset when i want it tossed to me. 

Earworm of the week:
Need you wonder? One of my girl-hood heart throbs, Johnny Mathis sings Chances Are. 


Quote of the week, compliments of Good Housekeeping:

“Live out of your imagination, not your history.” ~ Stephen Covey

Spring Cleaning of Poetry

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Weather in the Tries:
Well, it’s gonna be a bit cooler this week, hi 60w to low-mid 70s, with a chance 35% of us will get wet. Or is that a 35% chance it will rain? Or will we only get 35% of the raindrop? Sammy doesn’t know any better than I do. Oh well, it’s all gonna change anyhow.

Spring Cleaning of Poetry:
I decided to finally tackle the small mountain of papers stacked haphazardly on my desks. Yes, I have two. The one on which my computers sit and the one behind me that collects the overflow. I decided to deal with all those papers (really, it was an organized mess, I pretty much knew what was in each pile) yesterday. And then I became concerned when developers started calling me to inquire about the view property. So I now have no view property and a couple of well-organized piles of paper, most of which will be filed later today. 

All of which is to try to explain why I’m late.

I found a stack of poetry I need to go through and sort. A lot of it seems to deal with Thomas, I may have enough for a real book. Found a snarky one I totally forgot I’d written. Read it to my Sunday Group, and they loved it. 

This morning, I hit the deck running, as they say somewhere, got to my computer and first thing up, was I was asked by an editor to submit a poem! Well, that, obviously had priority. It went out before I’d had more than a couple sips of coffee, and then there was Word Jammin’ I had to connect with to get my tickets to tonight’s show.  Love this zoom program! It’s not an open mic, but four poets and the hostess, reading. High energy. Not the kind of poetry I write, but oh, do I love to watch. I’d say it’s like a Slam on Zoom, but I’ve never been to a poetry slam, so I can’t do that. And it may be way off base.

Another nice thing about Word Jammin’ is they’re on NYC time. Three hours ahead of us! I can watch them, then go to my writing meeting.

And then, just as I finished my first cuppa, my four-legged friend came in and asked for breakfast and a walk. So, we are back, and my second cuppa has been steadily emptying. 

Photos of the Week:
These are the honeysuckles outside my office window. I was going to put them up last week but am glad I didn’t. The lower blossoms, closer to the window I look through, have finished blooming. But, I have photos to look at whenever I want 😉

from the desk of the happy-dancing dog;
my human takes me walking in the sunshine, oh can you see my happy dance/ that’s supposed to be a question mark, but my paws can’t hold the shift key. my human says you can handle that. thank you. and dance your happy dance every day. after all, if you’re looking down at the grass, it’s a good day. besides, as my human says, it will make people wonder what you’ve been smoking, drinking, or eating.

Earworm of the Week:
Would you believe I’ve got Tevya worming his song, If I Were A Richman through my ears. Actually, it’s Topol singing. This clip is from the movie.

Quote of the Week comes from https://www.quotes.net/mquote/31597 and of course, it’s from Fiddler on the Roof:

Perchik:
In this world it is the wealthy who are criminals. 
Someday their wealth will be ours.

Tevye:
That would be nice. 
If they would agree, I would agree.