Robert Lee Brewer's November Poem-a-Day Challenge has begun. You can follow/participate in the challenge on Twitter by using the #novpad hash tag, or by stopping by Robert's Poetic Asides blog. Every day during the month of November, he will be posting a new prompt for you to explore with your pen and paper or keyboard. This is my second year participating and I'm looking forward to all the poetry this month.
This year, I am challenging myself a little more by reading a poem every day. A nice poetry pairing of sorts, but being that I do read a lot and try to read poetry every day, I want to make this challenge a little more specific. I want a continuous flow of poetry for the month, and am not really sure if this will create a nice flow, but it's a thought nonetheless. This extra poem a day will be outside of any book or journal I'm reading or anything I've randomly happened upon online.
I recently finished Lit by Mary Karr and was excited to read she is a poet. I'm starting with a poem of hers today. Tomorrow, I will read a poem by a poet she has been influenced or touched by, and so on down the line. Today's poem is "All This and More" and can I really say anymore after reading it? Brilliant.
Happy writing/thinking/living to all, Andrea
Showing posts with label Mary Karr. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Mary Karr. Show all posts
Tuesday, November 1, 2011
Monday, October 24, 2011
Your Heart Knows What Your Head Don't
"When you give someone a book you're giving them the most imaginative of gifts, because you're taking a personal interest in what interests them." - W.H. Smith ad in Observer
The Writers' League of Texas posted the above quote on their Facebook page this morning, and I couldn't think of a better quote with which to begin today's post.
My mom recently gave me a copy of Lit by Mary Carr to read. Each minute dares me to put it down but I can't. I read a few sentences as I chew my morning cereal, sneak in a page when my boss isn't looking, try to read a chapter before I go to sleep. This book won't let me go. There is so much within this book that calls to me.
"What hurts so bad about youth isn't the actual butt whippings the world delivers. It's the stupid hopes playacting like certainties."
"He never gave up on me, I only stopped being matriculated."
"Your heart knows what your head don't. Or won't." (The heart as a metaphor discussion reappears...)
"It was dawning on me how uphill a poet's path was, and I confessed to her that if I had to be the choice between being happy or being a poet, I'd choose to be happy."
When was the last time you received a book as a gift? What significance did it bring to your life?
Books you've never written can hold your secrets. Years ago I gave up writing, yet, here I am with fingers poised upon a keyboard.
The Writers' League of Texas posted the above quote on their Facebook page this morning, and I couldn't think of a better quote with which to begin today's post.
My mom recently gave me a copy of Lit by Mary Carr to read. Each minute dares me to put it down but I can't. I read a few sentences as I chew my morning cereal, sneak in a page when my boss isn't looking, try to read a chapter before I go to sleep. This book won't let me go. There is so much within this book that calls to me.
"What hurts so bad about youth isn't the actual butt whippings the world delivers. It's the stupid hopes playacting like certainties."
"He never gave up on me, I only stopped being matriculated."
"Your heart knows what your head don't. Or won't." (The heart as a metaphor discussion reappears...)
"It was dawning on me how uphill a poet's path was, and I confessed to her that if I had to be the choice between being happy or being a poet, I'd choose to be happy."
When was the last time you received a book as a gift? What significance did it bring to your life?
Books you've never written can hold your secrets. Years ago I gave up writing, yet, here I am with fingers poised upon a keyboard.
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