Guess which poets listed (or possibly omitted) in the below dream anthology belongs in the blanks.
* * *
I walk into a classroom. __(Poet 1)__is the teacher. While I was away, s/he gave a very detailed pop quiz that asks all kinds questions about poets and poetry. I don't know why s/he expects everyone to know this, then I figure there was required reading that I didn't do. I sit down next to __(Poet 2)__ who lets me copy his/her answers. The text has many questions and is complicated. There are fill in the blank questions and columns of questions. It's confusing where to put the answers. I'm copying answers from __(Poet 2)__ at random, throughout the test, with little rhyme or reason. There seems to be an unending number of questions. Somebody comes by and checks to see how we're doing. I flip __(Poet 2)__'s test over so they can't tell I'm copying it. They tell me that I need to hurry up. Then they come back and take __(Poet 2)__'s test. There's still a lot of questions I need to answer.
* * *
__(Poet 1)__ and __(Poet 2)__ have space in their van for me to go to the Yancy concert with them. I ask if they have an extra ticket and they say they have plenty. I'm not really familiar with Yancy, I remember __(Poet 3)__ posting a Yancy video on Facebook that was so-so. I tell them I need a few minutes. I go inside a childhood home and pee for a very long time while considering changing my sneakers to my boots because it'll look better.
* * *
I'm in NYC with __(Poet 1)__. We're in a fancy hotel lobby but we have to cross the street to a cheap hotel because __(Poet 1)__ doesn't want to pay more than $50 a night. We walk past __(Poet 2)__ and __(Poet 3)__ lying down on the ground, doing some kind of ironic performance thing to get attention for their reading this evening. I'm not going to go to their reading. I'll sooner go to a random stranger's reading.
* * *
I'm in my long abandoned elementary school. Everything inside has been painted white. _____ is here teaching a class. I know s/he's supposed to be dead, but s/he's come back from the dead to teach. There's a concern (perhaps it's just mine) that perhaps his/her time is past and s/he shouldn't be coming back. But then again, now there's still an opportunity to study with _____.
* * *
I'm crossing the street to find an office to work on the 2012 Dream Poet Anthology. I think about how __(Poet 1)__ probably feels replaced by __(Poet 2)__. That's because __(Poet 1)__ has been replaced by __(Poet 2)__.
Monday, December 31, 2012
guess the dream poet -- part 4 (2012)
Guess which poets listed (or possibly omitted) in the below dream anthology belongs in the blanks.
* * *
I get a call from _____ asking for help regarding the confluence software. I say that I'm not a teacher and have never used it, but s/he can come by and I'll try to help. I go to confluence.com to try to figure it out.
* * *
I'm following _____ around. S/he's next to some kind of machinery. I tell him/her that I used to be really intimidated by him/her when s/he ran this machinery. Now I seem to be the one who's a bit intimidating or maybe s/he didn't think I was intimidated before. I put my face close to his/hers, like we're close. Someone sees this through a window. Things have really changed between us.
* * *
I walk into a crowded auditorium with __(Poet 1)__. We look for empty seats together. We find two seats together and there seems to be a third I can hold for __(Poet 2)__. It's empty so I try to take it but Jack Nicholson says he's using it. He says he needs two because his wife is pregnant. I don't think he needs two and try to take it. I argue with him. __(Poet 3)__ and __(Poet 4)__ in the rows behind think I'm being a bitch for arguing for this chair. Or the way I argue. It just seems unfair. If I stand up for myself, I'm asking for it. Poets in the back rows are throwing wads of paper at me. __(Poet 5)__ comes up to __(Poet 2)__ and says that Walton Goggins (a boy in one of my dream high school classes) is saying some really means things about me. He really can't stand me. I like him and this hurts my feelings. I want him to like me. I get up and walk around the auditorium, in front of the rows of other kids who don't like me. I try to keep my composure.
* * *
A woman briefly dated _____. She brings _____ to a building under construction because he has to pee on something. Then she's going to jump off a building to sacrifice herself for some greater cause. _____ is watching, but he's not real concerned that she's going to kill herself. He's sitting, doing something with his arms, like he's pretending to drive. As the woman stands on the edge she realizes that something is about to explode. She runs off, I assume to protect _____ and others. The explosion happens within seconds. I assume she dies. _____ is OK. I ask _____ what was the woman's name. He can't remember, they only dated for a few days.
* * *
_____ trims his/her eyebrows. I do exactly what s/he does, but it’s way too short and there’s a bald spot in my eyebrows. There’s a discussion about whether or not eyebrows should be trimmed at all.
* * *
I get a call from _____ asking for help regarding the confluence software. I say that I'm not a teacher and have never used it, but s/he can come by and I'll try to help. I go to confluence.com to try to figure it out.
* * *
I'm following _____ around. S/he's next to some kind of machinery. I tell him/her that I used to be really intimidated by him/her when s/he ran this machinery. Now I seem to be the one who's a bit intimidating or maybe s/he didn't think I was intimidated before. I put my face close to his/hers, like we're close. Someone sees this through a window. Things have really changed between us.
* * *
I walk into a crowded auditorium with __(Poet 1)__. We look for empty seats together. We find two seats together and there seems to be a third I can hold for __(Poet 2)__. It's empty so I try to take it but Jack Nicholson says he's using it. He says he needs two because his wife is pregnant. I don't think he needs two and try to take it. I argue with him. __(Poet 3)__ and __(Poet 4)__ in the rows behind think I'm being a bitch for arguing for this chair. Or the way I argue. It just seems unfair. If I stand up for myself, I'm asking for it. Poets in the back rows are throwing wads of paper at me. __(Poet 5)__ comes up to __(Poet 2)__ and says that Walton Goggins (a boy in one of my dream high school classes) is saying some really means things about me. He really can't stand me. I like him and this hurts my feelings. I want him to like me. I get up and walk around the auditorium, in front of the rows of other kids who don't like me. I try to keep my composure.
* * *
A woman briefly dated _____. She brings _____ to a building under construction because he has to pee on something. Then she's going to jump off a building to sacrifice herself for some greater cause. _____ is watching, but he's not real concerned that she's going to kill herself. He's sitting, doing something with his arms, like he's pretending to drive. As the woman stands on the edge she realizes that something is about to explode. She runs off, I assume to protect _____ and others. The explosion happens within seconds. I assume she dies. _____ is OK. I ask _____ what was the woman's name. He can't remember, they only dated for a few days.
* * *
_____ trims his/her eyebrows. I do exactly what s/he does, but it’s way too short and there’s a bald spot in my eyebrows. There’s a discussion about whether or not eyebrows should be trimmed at all.
guess the dream poet -- part 3 (2012)
Guess which poets listed (or possibly omitted) in the below dream anthology belongs in the blanks.
* * *
I'm watching a political debate. _____ is the new candidate and s/he's debating John McCain, Mitt Romney and other old establishment, conservative candidates. S/he's calling them out on cruelty and other terrible things (like war). McCain goes after _____, mentions something about the 60's and then points out that _____ wasn't even alive during the 60's. _____ acknowledges this, then s/he pauses and it seems like s/he's stumped or thrown off, there's silence, but then _____ responds. The people in the audience likes what s/he has to say.
* * *
I go into a Safeway and walk around the bakery, but don't see what I want so I go to another grocery store. I seem to be planning for dinner (buying vegetables) and dessert (looking for a cake or something). I get 4 doughnut holes to try to them out, 2 chocolate and 2 caramel. I'm eating them. _____ seems ticked that I'm not sharing. But I plan to share the big dessert, whenever I get it.
* * *
I'm upset with _____, how s/he criticizes something that s/he takes part in, like watching the OctoMom on TV.
* * *
We stop at a sorbet/ice cream store. As I try to walk in __(Poet 1)__ is standing in front of me, blocking the way. S/he's still complaining about how s/he was wronged at dinner. I try to pass a few times. Finally I say excuse me really loud and walk past him/her. __(Poet 2)__ is behind the counter, offering to scoop ice cream..
* * *
I give a toast at a wedding. It's funny and people laugh. The next toast is given by _____. S/he goes on a bit too long, gushes a bit too much and acts like a weirdo poet. In a poetry setting this might be OK, but here it's too much and people are uncomfortable, weirded out by it. I'm in a weird position because I can't align myself too much with _____, but I can't discount how creeped out everyone else is by what s/he's saying. My sister is grimacing.
* * *
I'm watching a political debate. _____ is the new candidate and s/he's debating John McCain, Mitt Romney and other old establishment, conservative candidates. S/he's calling them out on cruelty and other terrible things (like war). McCain goes after _____, mentions something about the 60's and then points out that _____ wasn't even alive during the 60's. _____ acknowledges this, then s/he pauses and it seems like s/he's stumped or thrown off, there's silence, but then _____ responds. The people in the audience likes what s/he has to say.
* * *
I go into a Safeway and walk around the bakery, but don't see what I want so I go to another grocery store. I seem to be planning for dinner (buying vegetables) and dessert (looking for a cake or something). I get 4 doughnut holes to try to them out, 2 chocolate and 2 caramel. I'm eating them. _____ seems ticked that I'm not sharing. But I plan to share the big dessert, whenever I get it.
* * *
I'm upset with _____, how s/he criticizes something that s/he takes part in, like watching the OctoMom on TV.
* * *
We stop at a sorbet/ice cream store. As I try to walk in __(Poet 1)__ is standing in front of me, blocking the way. S/he's still complaining about how s/he was wronged at dinner. I try to pass a few times. Finally I say excuse me really loud and walk past him/her. __(Poet 2)__ is behind the counter, offering to scoop ice cream..
* * *
I give a toast at a wedding. It's funny and people laugh. The next toast is given by _____. S/he goes on a bit too long, gushes a bit too much and acts like a weirdo poet. In a poetry setting this might be OK, but here it's too much and people are uncomfortable, weirded out by it. I'm in a weird position because I can't align myself too much with _____, but I can't discount how creeped out everyone else is by what s/he's saying. My sister is grimacing.
guess the dream poet - part 2 (2012)
Guess which poets listed (or possibly omitted) in the below dream anthology belongs in the blanks.
* * *
I'm at some place -- a store? a place for a reading? _____ is here. Or s/he's not. I'm either embracing him/her or his/her memory. His/her mother died and s/he died not long after. His/her father was sick for a long time and it seemed like he'd be the first to go, but now he's the last. He's alone.
* * *
I'm walking in the Reston Town Center and see ____ walking down the sidewalk. I say hello. _____ doesn't recognize me at first. I say "Rebecca Livingston," "Reb Livingston." I say it really fast, but s/he understands. ____ says that s/he will be on Chopped. In this dream, Chopped assigns 1 of 4 hairstylists to work on _____'s hair. Maybe it'll be the hairstylist who is most drawn to his/her hair. S/he's a little nervous.
____ says s/he's headed towards the Poetry Foundation and asks if they have an office here in the Town Center. I tell him/her yes, I know, I've been there but I don't get invited too often. I make them nervous because I speak directly and what's on my mind. I have issues with the Poetry Foundation.
* * *
I'm at a fancy hotel for a work conference. I sit on a small sofa. A young man sits next to me. We both rest each other's heads against one another. He looks to me and says he wants a baby. A symphony begins. _____ is sitting in front of me. All of a sudden s/he is painted with shimmering paint all over his/her shirtless body. _____ begins playing the violin with the orchestra. Everyone claps. I tell someone that _____ is amazing. S/he's a poet, violinist and an oncologist.
* * *
I'm telling _____ about the hummus and veggie sandwich at Cosi. S/he seems interested.
* * *
* * *
I'm at some place -- a store? a place for a reading? _____ is here. Or s/he's not. I'm either embracing him/her or his/her memory. His/her mother died and s/he died not long after. His/her father was sick for a long time and it seemed like he'd be the first to go, but now he's the last. He's alone.
* * *
I'm walking in the Reston Town Center and see ____ walking down the sidewalk. I say hello. _____ doesn't recognize me at first. I say "Rebecca Livingston," "Reb Livingston." I say it really fast, but s/he understands. ____ says that s/he will be on Chopped. In this dream, Chopped assigns 1 of 4 hairstylists to work on _____'s hair. Maybe it'll be the hairstylist who is most drawn to his/her hair. S/he's a little nervous.
____ says s/he's headed towards the Poetry Foundation and asks if they have an office here in the Town Center. I tell him/her yes, I know, I've been there but I don't get invited too often. I make them nervous because I speak directly and what's on my mind. I have issues with the Poetry Foundation.
* * *
I'm at a fancy hotel for a work conference. I sit on a small sofa. A young man sits next to me. We both rest each other's heads against one another. He looks to me and says he wants a baby. A symphony begins. _____ is sitting in front of me. All of a sudden s/he is painted with shimmering paint all over his/her shirtless body. _____ begins playing the violin with the orchestra. Everyone claps. I tell someone that _____ is amazing. S/he's a poet, violinist and an oncologist.
* * *
I'm telling _____ about the hummus and veggie sandwich at Cosi. S/he seems interested.
* * *
guess the dream poet - part 1 (2012)
Guess which poets listed (or possibly omitted) in the below dream anthology belongs in the blanks.
* * *
A lecture is about to start. ______ comes up and says something snotty, inferring that I've been cruel to him related to matters of the heart. I snap. I yell about how I never did anything to imply that I was ever romantically interested and that he made it all up in his head. I yell that I'm married. ______ isn't the first guy to complain about this and I've had about enough.
* * *
I'm sitting at a dinner table with other people. This is our last meal before the Hunger Games. Somebody points out the Neverending Porch. I never noticed it before so I walk to it. At first it seems like a normal porch. I walk to one side and nothing is strange about it. I look to the other side and it seems different from when I first glanced over. The ground is soft and wet like we're on the edge of a pond. When you touch the air, it's bouncy, like water, like a portal. On the other side I see the pond. ______ runs right through the portal. We watch him splash around in the water. There's a large water snake that ______ seems to be taunting. I yell for him to save his energy for tomorrow's Hunger Games.
* * *
__(Poet 1)__ drops me off at a psychiatric hospital. I go in for medication. __(Poet 2)__ arrives too. I go through a drawer to help __(Poet 2)__ find some clothing that will fit him/her.
I go to a bakery stand. My usual cinnamon doughnuts aren't available. After looking at my options, I decide to get a dozen chocolate doughnuts. Not something I'd usually get now, although its something I would have in the past. __(Poet 3)__ tries to talk me out of it and points me towards a cinnamon scone. But I've made my decision, I want the dozen chocolate doughnuts. __(Poet 3)__ is very persistent. I get annoyed. I tell the manager that it's a good thing I've taken my medication today.
* * *
______ is here with her/his young daughter. ______ is spraying her with rubbing alcohol and perfume to make it smell like the daughter has been drinking. ______ thinks this will be a funny joke. Then ______ sprays the daughter's mouth with the alcohol and perfume so her breath smells like it. The perfume is oily and runs down her chin. This crosses the line.
* * *
A lecture is about to start. ______ comes up and says something snotty, inferring that I've been cruel to him related to matters of the heart. I snap. I yell about how I never did anything to imply that I was ever romantically interested and that he made it all up in his head. I yell that I'm married. ______ isn't the first guy to complain about this and I've had about enough.
* * *
I'm sitting at a dinner table with other people. This is our last meal before the Hunger Games. Somebody points out the Neverending Porch. I never noticed it before so I walk to it. At first it seems like a normal porch. I walk to one side and nothing is strange about it. I look to the other side and it seems different from when I first glanced over. The ground is soft and wet like we're on the edge of a pond. When you touch the air, it's bouncy, like water, like a portal. On the other side I see the pond. ______ runs right through the portal. We watch him splash around in the water. There's a large water snake that ______ seems to be taunting. I yell for him to save his energy for tomorrow's Hunger Games.
* * *
__(Poet 1)__ drops me off at a psychiatric hospital. I go in for medication. __(Poet 2)__ arrives too. I go through a drawer to help __(Poet 2)__ find some clothing that will fit him/her.
I go to a bakery stand. My usual cinnamon doughnuts aren't available. After looking at my options, I decide to get a dozen chocolate doughnuts. Not something I'd usually get now, although its something I would have in the past. __(Poet 3)__ tries to talk me out of it and points me towards a cinnamon scone. But I've made my decision, I want the dozen chocolate doughnuts. __(Poet 3)__ is very persistent. I get annoyed. I tell the manager that it's a good thing I've taken my medication today.
* * *
______ is here with her/his young daughter. ______ is spraying her with rubbing alcohol and perfume to make it smell like the daughter has been drinking. ______ thinks this will be a funny joke. Then ______ sprays the daughter's mouth with the alcohol and perfume so her breath smells like it. The perfume is oily and runs down her chin. This crosses the line.
The Dream Poet Anthology 2012
Below are the names of poets who made appearances or were mentioned in my dreams during 2012. Some of these poets I know well, others are acquaintances and some are complete strangers. If you find your name is on this list and you do not know me, it means that I know of you via your work or reputation and my psyche has attached some type of meaning or symbolism on you to represent something.
Or maybe it means something else completely. Who can say with any certainty what a dream means? Maybe it means you've been selected for a psychic quest of great importance? Maybe it means I'm watching you through a pair of binoculars at this very moment? Who knows. Just don't ask me for details of the dream. Seriously, don't.
2012 Contributors:
Scott Abel, Deborah Ager, Sandra Beasley, Hugh Behm-Steinberg, Matt Bell, Zachary Benavidez, April Bernard, Tara Betts, Lucy Biederman, Julie Bloemeke, Anne Boyer, Ana Božičević, Somner Browning, Julianne Buchsbaum, Jenna Cardinale, Kelly Cockerham, Shanna Compton, Eduardo Corral, Gerald Costanzo, Bruce Covey, Karen Craigo, Phil Crippen, Catherine Daly, Peter Davis, the “youngest” Dickman brother who is still a teenager, Sharon Dilworth, Oliver de la Paz, Kate Durbin, Thomas Sayers Ellis, Jill Alexander Essbaum, Steve Fellner, Ryan Flaherty, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Elisa Gabbert, Neil Gaiman, Susana Gardner, Roxane Gay, Bernadette Geyer, Tod Goldberg, Rigoberto González, Nada Gordon, Noah Eli Gordon, Rae Gouirand, Lea Graham, Paul Guest, Charlie Jensen, Saeed Jones, Tayari Jones, Wendi Kaufman, Matt Kirkpatrick, Amy King, Rauan Klassnik, Jennifer L. Knox, Shafer Hall, Joseph Harrington, Kaplan Harris, Matthew Hittinger, Ton van 't Hof, Dave Housley, Amy King, Stieg Larsson, John Edward Lawson, David Lehman, Amy Lemmon, Emily Lloyd, Tao Lin, Helen Losse, Rebecca Loudon, Tony Mancus, Joe Massey, Cate Marvin, David McDonald, Erika Meitner, Gwendolyn Joyce Mintz, Ben Mirov, Anita Naegeli, Aimee Nezhukumatathil, Hoa Nguyen, Daniel Padilla, Danielle Pafunda, G.M. Palmer, Karl Parker, Richard Peabody, Scott Pierce, Bill Piestch, Robert Pinsky, PF Potvin, Liam Rector, Rob Roberge, Tony Robinson, Steve Roggenbuck, Lee Ann Roripaugh, Ken Rumble, Carly Sachs, Metta Sama, Standard Schaefer, Michael Schiavo, Zachary Schomburg, Laura Sheahen, Frank Sherlock, Evie Shockley, Kim Gek Lin Short, Ricco Siasco, Martha Silano, Sandra Simonds, Tupac Shakur, Dale Smith, Frank Stafford, Nicole Steinberg, Brent Terry, Tony Tost, Catherynne Valente, Rich Villar, Chris Vitiello, James Wagner, Fritz Ward, Roxanne Halpine Ward, Joshua Marie Wilkinson, Jim Woessner, Allyssa Wolf, C. Dale Young, Dean Young
Frequently Asked Questions
Q: I'm a writer, but not a poet. Why am I included on a poet list?
A: Simmer down and accept the compliment.
Q: Can I submit my work for next year's anthology?
A: This anthology only accepts psychic submissions. Submit to my unconscious and perhaps you will be allowed in.
Q: Does my appearing on this list mean that you are obsessed with or stalking me?
A: Possibly.
Q: Will you tell me the details of the dream I appeared in?
A: No, absolutely not. Assume the dream was totally demented and would disturb you a great deal.
Q: I'm a poet and I'm psychically awesome, why aren't I included in this anthology?
A: There are three possible reasons you are not included:
1. You didn't appear in my dreams in 2012. Resolve in 2013 to be more ambitious psychically.
2. You did appear in my dreams, but I don't remember. I forget many dreams. Your omission is a simple case of editorial oversight. You were screwed, unintentionally.
3. You did appear in my dreams, but I am loathe to publicly admit such a thing. This applies to a small percentage of poets appearing in my dreams. Your omission is a simple case of editorial bias. You were screwed, intentionally.
Dream Poet Anthology Mad Libs:
guess the dream poet - part 1 (2012)
guess the dream poet - part 2 (2012)
guess the dream poet -- part 3 (2012)
guess the dream poet -- part 4 (2012)
guess the dream poet -- part 5 (2012)
Past anthologies:
The Dream Poet Anthology 2011
The Dream Poet Anthology 2010
The Dream Poet Anthology 2009
Or maybe it means something else completely. Who can say with any certainty what a dream means? Maybe it means you've been selected for a psychic quest of great importance? Maybe it means I'm watching you through a pair of binoculars at this very moment? Who knows. Just don't ask me for details of the dream. Seriously, don't.
2012 Contributors:
Scott Abel, Deborah Ager, Sandra Beasley, Hugh Behm-Steinberg, Matt Bell, Zachary Benavidez, April Bernard, Tara Betts, Lucy Biederman, Julie Bloemeke, Anne Boyer, Ana Božičević, Somner Browning, Julianne Buchsbaum, Jenna Cardinale, Kelly Cockerham, Shanna Compton, Eduardo Corral, Gerald Costanzo, Bruce Covey, Karen Craigo, Phil Crippen, Catherine Daly, Peter Davis, the “youngest” Dickman brother who is still a teenager, Sharon Dilworth, Oliver de la Paz, Kate Durbin, Thomas Sayers Ellis, Jill Alexander Essbaum, Steve Fellner, Ryan Flaherty, F. Scott Fitzgerald, Elisa Gabbert, Neil Gaiman, Susana Gardner, Roxane Gay, Bernadette Geyer, Tod Goldberg, Rigoberto González, Nada Gordon, Noah Eli Gordon, Rae Gouirand, Lea Graham, Paul Guest, Charlie Jensen, Saeed Jones, Tayari Jones, Wendi Kaufman, Matt Kirkpatrick, Amy King, Rauan Klassnik, Jennifer L. Knox, Shafer Hall, Joseph Harrington, Kaplan Harris, Matthew Hittinger, Ton van 't Hof, Dave Housley, Amy King, Stieg Larsson, John Edward Lawson, David Lehman, Amy Lemmon, Emily Lloyd, Tao Lin, Helen Losse, Rebecca Loudon, Tony Mancus, Joe Massey, Cate Marvin, David McDonald, Erika Meitner, Gwendolyn Joyce Mintz, Ben Mirov, Anita Naegeli, Aimee Nezhukumatathil, Hoa Nguyen, Daniel Padilla, Danielle Pafunda, G.M. Palmer, Karl Parker, Richard Peabody, Scott Pierce, Bill Piestch, Robert Pinsky, PF Potvin, Liam Rector, Rob Roberge, Tony Robinson, Steve Roggenbuck, Lee Ann Roripaugh, Ken Rumble, Carly Sachs, Metta Sama, Standard Schaefer, Michael Schiavo, Zachary Schomburg, Laura Sheahen, Frank Sherlock, Evie Shockley, Kim Gek Lin Short, Ricco Siasco, Martha Silano, Sandra Simonds, Tupac Shakur, Dale Smith, Frank Stafford, Nicole Steinberg, Brent Terry, Tony Tost, Catherynne Valente, Rich Villar, Chris Vitiello, James Wagner, Fritz Ward, Roxanne Halpine Ward, Joshua Marie Wilkinson, Jim Woessner, Allyssa Wolf, C. Dale Young, Dean Young
Frequently Asked Questions
Q: I'm a writer, but not a poet. Why am I included on a poet list?
A: Simmer down and accept the compliment.
Q: Can I submit my work for next year's anthology?
A: This anthology only accepts psychic submissions. Submit to my unconscious and perhaps you will be allowed in.
Q: Does my appearing on this list mean that you are obsessed with or stalking me?
A: Possibly.
Q: Will you tell me the details of the dream I appeared in?
A: No, absolutely not. Assume the dream was totally demented and would disturb you a great deal.
Q: I'm a poet and I'm psychically awesome, why aren't I included in this anthology?
A: There are three possible reasons you are not included:
1. You didn't appear in my dreams in 2012. Resolve in 2013 to be more ambitious psychically.
2. You did appear in my dreams, but I don't remember. I forget many dreams. Your omission is a simple case of editorial oversight. You were screwed, unintentionally.
3. You did appear in my dreams, but I am loathe to publicly admit such a thing. This applies to a small percentage of poets appearing in my dreams. Your omission is a simple case of editorial bias. You were screwed, intentionally.
Dream Poet Anthology Mad Libs:
guess the dream poet - part 1 (2012)
guess the dream poet - part 2 (2012)
guess the dream poet -- part 3 (2012)
guess the dream poet -- part 4 (2012)
guess the dream poet -- part 5 (2012)
Past anthologies:
The Dream Poet Anthology 2011
The Dream Poet Anthology 2010
The Dream Poet Anthology 2009
Wednesday, November 21, 2012
thanks and all
Yesterday morning in yoga the ongoing conversation was who's making what for Thanksgiving and the whole concept of gratitude. I was the only person in the room not hosting a dinner. At the time all that came to my mind was that I was grateful that I wasn't the person responsible for Thanksgiving. I didn't share everyone else's enthusiasm for the holiday and whoah, those ladies were really excited about their stuffings and pumpkin flans. I don't dislike the holiday, I like food, love turkey and pumpkin pie. It's just it's a lot of work, before, during and after for what feels like just a massive meal. I get excited for Christmas Eve, it's evening, there's music and decorations and drinks and hors d'oeuvres and a big ass tray of cookies and presents and the Santa tracker. That's a party! So I host that. I figured that what I'm grateful for is that there are others who want to do the things I'm mostly ambivalent for and I'm grateful that I have the opportunity to do what I feel passionate about. Not everybody wants to cram a 12-foot tree into a room with a 10-foot ceiling. I get that. Different strokes! Your holiday preferences are valid too.
I felt pretty good coming to that conclusion but that didn't prepare me for how I was going to feel later that evening. A few weeks ago Didi Menéndez wrote to say that she was putting together a "Best of MiPOesias" and was going to use my poem "That's Not Butter" and asked if I had new work to send. I sent a new poem with audio. She sent a galley. I figured it would be out by the end of the year and didn't think much more about it.
What I wasn't expecting was this long, well-considered and in-depth review of my work: The Oracle and Reb Livingston by Jack Anders. To say that it made my day would be an understatement. Sometimes it feels like such an incredible feat just to get someone to read your poems, let alone make the effort to compellingly write about them.
I'm also grateful for the interview Julie Bloemeke did with me back in October regarding the Bibliomancy Oracle at the Best American Poetry blog.
While this year has been a pretty good one for me in many ways, I've struggled redefining my work and my role as a writer. I'm not calling myself an editor or publisher these days because I'm not doing those things now. Maybe again in the future, but not now.
Mostly this struggle has been getting over my numerous fears and self-criticisms that I build to such heights of dipshittery, sometimes my world comes to a complete halt and I can't manage to restart. I'd been beating myself up all year that I wasn't productive enough, that I was squandering my time. I wasn't used to having the time to spend on my own work. Maybe I felt more guilty instead of grateful for the opportunity. Maybe I thought I'd dash out a 300 page novel in 6 months and when that didn't happen I felt like a loser. I had it in my head that I maybe wrote 40-50 pages. In late September, I decided to print out everything I wrote in 2012. It was a 184 pages. That's not going to break any records and I'm certainly not going use all of it, but looking at that stack of papers made me realize that what I'd been telling myself wasn't true. I was working, which doesn't mean that I shouldn't work more or smarter, but clearly the mental shit I put myself through is totally stoopid and unnecessary. I don't do myself any favors when I'm this way.
It's almost December and my novel-esque book (not sure what to call it yet) is nowhere near finished. If you're interested in perusing some first drafts I've done along the way, I post some of them here. I have a 79 page draft that I'm hoping will reach 100 pages by the end of 2012. I certainly need another year, if not longer, to finish it. But I'm getting there and yes, it's really strange and there's always the very real possibility calling it a novel won't make many people interested and maybe it'll receive the dreaded cricket review. I can't worry about that now.
On this matter the Bibliomancy Oracle says:
I felt pretty good coming to that conclusion but that didn't prepare me for how I was going to feel later that evening. A few weeks ago Didi Menéndez wrote to say that she was putting together a "Best of MiPOesias" and was going to use my poem "That's Not Butter" and asked if I had new work to send. I sent a new poem with audio. She sent a galley. I figured it would be out by the end of the year and didn't think much more about it.
What I wasn't expecting was this long, well-considered and in-depth review of my work: The Oracle and Reb Livingston by Jack Anders. To say that it made my day would be an understatement. Sometimes it feels like such an incredible feat just to get someone to read your poems, let alone make the effort to compellingly write about them.
I'm also grateful for the interview Julie Bloemeke did with me back in October regarding the Bibliomancy Oracle at the Best American Poetry blog.
While this year has been a pretty good one for me in many ways, I've struggled redefining my work and my role as a writer. I'm not calling myself an editor or publisher these days because I'm not doing those things now. Maybe again in the future, but not now.
Mostly this struggle has been getting over my numerous fears and self-criticisms that I build to such heights of dipshittery, sometimes my world comes to a complete halt and I can't manage to restart. I'd been beating myself up all year that I wasn't productive enough, that I was squandering my time. I wasn't used to having the time to spend on my own work. Maybe I felt more guilty instead of grateful for the opportunity. Maybe I thought I'd dash out a 300 page novel in 6 months and when that didn't happen I felt like a loser. I had it in my head that I maybe wrote 40-50 pages. In late September, I decided to print out everything I wrote in 2012. It was a 184 pages. That's not going to break any records and I'm certainly not going use all of it, but looking at that stack of papers made me realize that what I'd been telling myself wasn't true. I was working, which doesn't mean that I shouldn't work more or smarter, but clearly the mental shit I put myself through is totally stoopid and unnecessary. I don't do myself any favors when I'm this way.
It's almost December and my novel-esque book (not sure what to call it yet) is nowhere near finished. If you're interested in perusing some first drafts I've done along the way, I post some of them here. I have a 79 page draft that I'm hoping will reach 100 pages by the end of 2012. I certainly need another year, if not longer, to finish it. But I'm getting there and yes, it's really strange and there's always the very real possibility calling it a novel won't make many people interested and maybe it'll receive the dreaded cricket review. I can't worry about that now.
On this matter the Bibliomancy Oracle says:
Oblivion scattereth her poppy, and besides
it’s time to go inside now,
feed the aggressive pets, forgive our trespasses
for trespassing against us.
*
from “Not Beyond All Conjecture” by “John Ashbery”
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