Katie's Blog

I have to say, I've been enjoying my summer vacation so far.  I know, I know, I'm only about a week in, but so far, so good! I've been writing everyday. Every. single. day. I get up, make coffee, write. And everyday that writing has been fruitful. What an amazing feeling! Most of what I've been doing is sifting through and cleaning up my Napowrimo poems from last month, but also generating some new material along the way. For the past two days, I've been working on a new mini series of poems about Lobo Girl, the feral child legend of southwest Texas. I think her narrative will fit nicely into my Slue Foot Sue narrative, braided together so to speak. They're both feminist reimaginings of masculinized folklore, that celebrate "wild" women who defy the rules.  Speaking of my book... this week I've also taken a critical look at it, reorganized it, and trimmed it back a bit. I like its new shape. I decided to take out the "body" themed ...

Oh summer vacation, you couldn't come soon enough :) Today was my first "official" day of summer vacation. Yesterday, I spent the entire day (literally) finishing up grades and posting them. I went to bed so exhausted, so spent and grouchy that when I awoke this morning, I didn't quite realize what that all meant -- that I'm now totally obligation free for the next month. Whaat? It really hasn't sunk in. Maybe on Monday morning I'll wake up and feel free... So what do I have going on this summer? A few things. Actually, tomorrow I'm really excited to visit my old high school and serve as their "keynote" poet for their poetry night. It's kinda special to me, actually, because, like so many youngsters, I did my very first poetry reading at this same poetry night in 2003... that's... too many years ago to count. Lately, I've actually begun really ENJOYING school visits. In the past, I really hadn't and only did them b...

I think this is the first time I've ever successfully completed NAPOWRIMO! Woot woot! The Goddess Washes Dishes She washes them by hand – she wants to feel This quintessential part of life, this scrubbing away Of assemblages of coal, garlic, potato skin, the peeling of of gossamers of grease, this unraveling of everything that baked inside the bottom of the pan, refused to let go. She scrapes it all away, she lets it soak, she hums along with the tintinnabulation of water meeting water, pooling redolent, scented with the dulcet smell of pomegranate soap. She breathes it in, finds peace in this dance Of hands and sponge and dinner plate, And salad bowl. She sighs with satisfaction As the flip on the garbage disposal swallowing everything that ever ailed her Down its hatch with a mellifluous groan. I can't say I'm incredibly proud of any of my poems, but some do show promise. Let May be the month of picking up the pieces, of findi...

Today's task, the day 30 prompt, was to translate a poem. I've always been afraid of translating, but I took a swing at it today. The Rainy Day At least that was the story, shit. The headlights and fender were torn off – Clean. The adjuster came, two hours Later – the Other, Arrived. What shit, what money, these things of life create -- The deductible, the rain and the train, when I would go to yoga with serene karma, a Tibetan monk The rain, days of rain-soaked plumage, What is it going to create? A café, three readings, receptions, Concentrating on the money coming and going between buses that stops Books, breath Rain of grammatical indulgence, Snug, Breathing, Words that fall closer To the adjuster that faces the headlights What a defense 

This is in response to the backwards story. Whenever I'm at a loss for words, I write about Eve. She never fails to inspire me. Here's her story, backwards. It might be interesting to play with this further. Returning to Eden She never looked back. She regretted nothing, knew it had to end this way as her bare feet stepped from carpet grass to brambles. She felt pleasure blossom in her heart as it fluttered. Her lips stained with mauve, She licked them clean. Juice dribbled from mouth to chin, Down her chest, marking her beautiful To herself. She brought the fruit To her lips, a plum, a pomegranate, An apple, a pear, the details Depend on who’s doing the telling, But always it was juicy, always It was sweet, always it was red Red, the color of fire and flame, Desire. She plucked it from the tree In a single tug. It fit perfectly In her palm, designed for her. The color red flashed against the green, So much green, so little of ...

Will I get caught up?! Maybe! My weekend looks pretty free :) Today's prompt was to write a poem about something you remember. I remember as a kid my dad always had cut fruit ready for snacking on the kitchen counters. Always. Without fail. I'm a fruitaholic, though I'm also a very lazy person. This typically results in me wanting fruit but not wanting to go through the work of washing, slicing, and storing. I know, how ridiculous, right? So I thought of that this afternoon while prepping a melon. Slicing a Melon One Spring Afternoon I remember eating melon as a child, How miraculous the slices appeared On the kitchen table, the color of sunset, The color of meadow, the color of blush. Always fruit on the table. How did it get there? My father, standing at the kitchen counter, Always chopping. How blissful to live In this land of plenty. I remember this today, As I stand at my kitchen counter, Halving the world of a musk melon Along its mer...

Life. It's got me again. I've had some health issues again this week that have got me sidetracked, more mentally than anything else. On Sunday evening, I had the strangest experience. For about fifteen minutes, I lost my ability to speak in full sentences, my ability to see out of one eye, and then the feeling on the same side of my face and arm. It was incredibly scary. The feeling passed and I was ok (I'm still ok) but it scared the crap out of me. If you know me, you know I hate going to the doctor, so I went home and hoped I'd feel normal in the morning. And I did, only, I was really worried and scared, and I couldn't shake the feeling that something was wrong with me. I put off going to the doctor until Tuesday morning and went to my family doctor, who scared the bejeezus out of me by telling me I'd had a stroke. A mini-stroke. He didn't want to alarm me, he said, but it is very serious. He said if anything, anything like that ever happens again, ...