New Poem: Missed Calls

I wrote this today at lunch.  I'm not sure if it's finished; I may fiddle with it a bit.  It is a variation of a poetic form I've seen used before, however, I put my own twist on it.  I don't always use traditional form, but I think it can be very effective when done well.  Hope you enjoy!

Missed Calls

My phone does not alert me to all the calls missed

while at the copier, the fax machine, answering

the intern’s questions, who looking back in later years

will consider all of this information irrelevant.

Faintly coming down the hallway like a life, half-

realized in fiery-intentioned glances, a

ring, the dull repeating tones of matters that

demand attention like children.  Reminding me of

the inner stillness and decay of hours (a half-life

ticking away), a hundred phone calls in a glance

are answered and not a single one that matters.

I do not want this to become of me,

this mournful collection of missed calls

somewhere on an answering machine,

listened to for the first time years later,

composed of now irrelevant information.

Oasis

Yesterday after work I got the urge to find a local used bookstore in hopes of finding some...well, books.  There are several poets whose works I have been reading online, however, as great as the interweb is, it is far from a comprehensive collection.  So after a quick Google search I found the Midtown Scholar Bookstore.  If there is a heaven, it will look (and smell) like this.

The store is located in a renovated 1920s theater in the midtown district of Harrisburg.  When you first walk in, it all just kind of hits you: the exposed ceiling, the balcony with wrought iron railing, the copious cozy nooks, and the smell, oh the smell of coffee and pastries and books!  The place is simply gorgeous and I could easily see myself spending hours here engrossed in a good book or doing some writing.  The Midtown Scholar Bookstore boasts a packed and ever-changing calendar of activities, from concerts to author talks to plays to poetry readings to book club meetings.  And on top of all the activities going on downstairs, upstairs there is a small art gallery where local artists come to show off their work and get feedback from the general public.  To someone like me, it all sounds so lovely.

In addition to my pictures above, this blog has quite a few nice pictures as well as a very good review.  If you’re in the area I highly recommend checking this place out.

On Tap: English Ale

‘Ello Govnah!  Welcome to another edition of On Tap.  I thought I’d start of this weeks’ post by discussing something that’s been on my mind for a little while now.  Ever since I started drinking beer on a fairly regular basis I’ve wanted to do a brewery tour.  However, I had a ton of questions and no idea where to start.  Where can I find a list of breweries in my area?  Do tours cost money?  When are tours available?  After a quick Google search, I found this website: VisitPA.com.  It provides a list of breweries in Pennsylvania, tour availability, and pricing.  Now that I have all this information I am definitely going to start planning my first brewery tour.  I can’t wait!

Ok, on to the week’s winners and losers…well, kind of.  So this week was filled with beers that while I didn’t hate them, I didn’t exactly love them either.  So rather than call them winners and losers, let’s just talk about the pros and cons of each beer.

The first beer in question was sampled during my firm’s after tax season party: Dos Equis.  The pros: this beer was crisp and smooth with almost no bite.  The cons: it was somewhat lacking in flavor.  Also, while I was drinking this beer all I could think about were those stupid “most-interesting-man-in-the-world” commercials; my favorite is, “He went to a psychic once…to warn her.”

The second beer I tried came from my current Wegman’s six-pack: Smuttynose Summer Weizen Ale.  I’ve had weizen-style ales before and found them generally enjoyable so I had certain expectations for this beer; it didn’t meet them.  The beer didn’t have the bready flavor I was expecting and it had a funky aftertaste that I didn’t care for.  It was, however, a very crisp beer, which is typical for so-called “summer ales”.  Overall, this one was definitely the closest to a loser for the week.

The third beer of the week was enjoyed over a burger and Market Cross Pub trivia: Samuel Smith’s Old Brewery Pale Ale.  The beer was a darker colored ale that was rich in flavor, with a clean finish.  The only con with this beer is it had a noticeable bite to it; I’m not sure if it was due to the alcohol content or the hops, but it hindered an otherwise good brew.

Well, that’s it for this week.  Join me next week as I continue my beer education!  Beerucation?

New Poem: Ants

This poem was inspired by a day dream I had after taking the picture shown below.  Not sure what the ants were after; there were too many of them to even see the ground.  If I could describe this poem in one word it would be: ominous.

Ants

Ants descend over the heel of a foot
Of a doll lying face down in the dirt.
Her dress of lace and whiteness,
Soiled only by the laughter of young children,
Hears now, coming swiftly,
The wind between the temporary houses.
It sets the trees, the leaves, the grass
Chattering around the black tongue of ants,
A teeming throng over the blades
Devouring their sharpness,
Like the furious whispering of children
Around a secret.
I bend down to pick her up, to save her
From the vapid march of the mindless drones.
Turning her over in the twilight
I feel the cold porcelain skin, the glass eyes,
The likeness of an infant
And in moments, I sense an insidious tickle,
A swarm of blackness muffling
The sound of the grass,
And the little ants descending.

New Poem: Nostalgia

A couple nights ago I was sitting around just thinking and realized that sometimes I tend to think the potential nostalgia of a moment is more appealing than the moment itself.  This is probably a bad thing because I can tend to focus more on the way I'll remember the moment, rather than actually enjoying it when it's happening.  I also have a tendency to compare moments in my life that I have a great fondness for with the current state of things and this usually gets me into a depressed funk that's hard to shake.  Anyway, all that thinking inspired this poem.  Enjoy!


Nostalgia

At a diner with your closest friends.
It’s late, 2:30 AM after a night
Of binge drinking and pretending
You were someone else.

In a booth not unlike the backseat of my car,
The little waitress, old and patient
Dons a blue uniform and writes
My order like a prescription.

Outside the photo taxis are flashing by
In waves beneath the pitiful rain
That gathers in the waiting eyes
Of all those gazing skyward
Hoping to feel, time and again,
The unchanging lies.

Looking back into the bottom of my glass,
Empty now, I hover in thought,
Surrounded by synthetic light
That’s doused in darkness but does not
Expire and think how

The hum and flicker of a neon sign
Draws slowly, night after night
Good men, men drunk and sick with dreams
Into its sanguine glow.

A Second Read

After reading over the comments I received from the poet Ted Kooser, rereading some of his works, and the reviews of other critics, I have come to a conclusion: I am not Ted Kooser.  That is to say, my style of writing is not the same as his.  His comments on my work basically say, “Write like me.”  But I don’t want to write like him.  His is a style I see all the time in poetry and while he makes it work and it is enjoyable to read, I have my own style, I have my own voice.

Last night I stayed up for quite awhile trying to figure out a way to describe my style of writing, and I think I have.  I am a painter with a pen.  When I write I want to paint a picture for my readers, fill their heads with different images all driving toward the same point, take them on a journey with multiple stops, but one destination.  Kooser called this “distracting to the readers’ attention”, but I don’t think it is; I think it helps crystallize the message.  By offering multiple, rich images I am trying to increase the methods of delivery of the poem’s message.  As the old saying goes, “there is more than one way to skin a cat”, and in most of my poems I am using multiple ways to try and skin the same cat.

Now I realize that not everyone will enjoy my poetry and that’s fine.  But I’m never going to change my style in hopes of appealing to the widest audience possible.  If I make changes to the way I write it’s going to be because I think it will help the evolution of my work.  Having come to all of this, I’m feeling much better about everything.  It’s already Thursday and I can’t wait for the weekend.

"Apologies for the brevity..."

When I got home from work today I was all set to write a blog about my day and the things in it, stuff that inspires me, a new restaurant I discovered, some pictures I snapped during the week, or any one of a hundred other ideas that have been floating around in my head.  Instead this blog is about my mail.  Two weeks ago I wrote to one of my favorite poets, Pulitzer prize winner Ted Kooser; today I got my reply.  I was so excited I could hardly contain myself; I literally jumped for joy.  The joy didn't last.

Enclosed was my original letter and poems, on which were scribbled brief notes, pointedly worded barbs about how my poems could never work today, how my poems seem to meander aimlessly, how I lack focus.  And that was it.  No kind words of encouragement.  Just a big fat, "You're not good enough."

I'm not sure what I was expecting.  I knew he would have criticisms.  I knew I was never going to get a glowing review, praising my unique wit and style.  But I didn't expect this.  The whole situation has left me wondering if I'm not just wasting my time.  If I am just a no-talent hack who will never be a decent writer.

EC Craft Brew Fest

Let me start by saying, “Happy Tax Day everyone!”  Well, since I didn’t post yesterday (I was in Washington DC for the day – for fun, not work) I didn’t get a chance to post about my exploits at the Electric City Craft Brew Fest.  What a blast!  I had never been to the Scranton Cultural Center before so I was slightly surprised when my GPS directed me to what appeared to be a very old Masonic temple.  The inside was pretty cool, particularly the hand-painted wood ceiling, and I took a ton of pictures.  Unfortunately I’ve learned that I’m not very good at keeping my hands steady; a lot of my photos ended up being out of focus.  I wonder if they sell tripods for cell phones.  J

Anyway, over a thousand tickets were sold and with music and unlimited beer the temple was certainly hopping (pun intended).  I was able to sample all the beers I wanted and then some.  While they weren’t all winners I did find several beers that I thoroughly enjoyed.  The first winner of the Craft Brew Fest was a shandy-style beer by Shock Top.  This was my second shandy (the first being Leinenkugel’s Summer Shandy) and it was amazing!  While Leinenkugel’s Summer Shandy tastes like beer mixed with lemonade, Shock Top Lemon Shandy Ale tastes more like beer with lemonade flavor.  For those beer purists, this might make Shock Top slightly more palatable than Leinenkugel.  Personally, I love them both!

The second winner was a beer that I’d been trying to get my hands on for awhile: Blue Moon Spring Blonde Wheat Ale.  All of my previous experiences with Blue Moon have been fairly enjoyable so I had high hopes for this beer; it didn’t disappoint.  The beer had a mellow flavor with hints of citrus and a clean finish.  Blue Moon’s website describes it as “a splash of sunshine in a glass” and I agree!

Finally, near the end of the afternoon I made my way to the front of the Cultural Center and noticed a beer I had missed during my first go-around: Breaker Brewing Company’s 5 Whistle Wheat.  While I wouldn’t exactly say I saved the best for last, I certainly enjoyed this beer.   5 Whistle Wheat is a full-flavored ale and although it has a slight bite, it doesn’t linger and will leave a good taste in your mouth.

Well, that was my Sunday at the Electric City Craft Brew Fest.  If you came out I hope you had fun and if you didn’t, be sure to get there next year!

FridayFridayFriday!

It's Friday ladies and germs and I for one couldn't be happier that the weekend is finally here.  Today marks the end of tax season (for me at least) and the start of a three-day weekend.  It all kicks off at 1pm today with my firm's after tax season party, complete with pizza and beer.  The fun continues tonight (hopefully) with game two of the Flyers and Penguins first-round playoff series.  Hooray for toothless men hitting each other with sticks!  What I'm really looking forward to, however, is the Electric City Brew Fest on Sunday.

The event boasts over 50 different brews to sample and I have already begun looking over the list to try and figure out which beers I'm most excited to try.  Here is a short list of the front-runners so far:

Abita Brewing: Purple Haze Raspberry Wheat
Blue Moon: Spring Blonde Wheat
Breaker Brewing: 5 Whistle Wheat
Dogfish Head: Raison D'Etre
Lion Brewery: Honey Suckle
Massachusetts Bay Brewing: Summer Beer
Mendocino Brewing: Eye of the Hawk
Sam Adams: Cherry Wheat
Saranac: Chocolate Orange Porter
Shock Top: Lemon Shandy Ale
Stevens Point: 3 Kings
Three Guys & A Beard: Wheat the People and American Hefeweizen

Well, those are my weekend plans.  Stop by on Monday to read some reviews of my weekend in my On Tap segment.  Happy Friday all!

New Poem: Halley's Comet

Here's another new poem I just finished.  I think it was inspired by the recent trips to my dad's house.  He lives out in the middle of nowhere and at night you can actually see the stars.


Halley’s Comet

You last appeared when I was one,
A glowing ball of dust in the sky
Ripping a thousand miles an hour
Past the naked eyes of my mother.
While all the other stars stood still
You crept across the midnight sky,
Roaring silently through heaven
On an invisible string or so
It must have seemed to one so young as I.

Every night is similar that came
Before and since, except tonight I
Grip the fading blush of ignorance.
When I gaze upon you years from now
I think I will have long retired
The questions, fancies, yearnings, all
The crust of youth that falls upon
A lifetime passing, fleeting as
A puff of gas in space, between
The poles of understanding.
When I see you again it will be as before,
Not reaching out with hands to grab you,
But looking up in wide-eyed wonder at the stars.

New Poem: Orphan

I've been doing some experimenting with my writing style that I think has led to some good poem ideas.  Here is one I just recently finished.  Enjoy!


Orphan

Just as if you died tomorrow
I would not be an orphan,
if you left I would not be alone.
There are pay stubs, letters, paperwork
proving you were here. They grip
your signature and those of others
who too exist. Your absence
could not wipe them all away.

Recipes threaten, subtle,
inside a brown pill box – your meatloaf
that is sure to bring heartburn hours
after the dishes have all been put away.
Clothes, stained and faded, that wear
the creeping of the days out through
the dangling strands, hang peacefully,
unraveling stories.

On Tap: Hefeweizen

While this past week was a good one, filled with fun and adventure, it was not such a great week for beer.  I sampled a number of new brews, the majority of which ranged from just ok to down right nasty.  The worst of the worst was Troeg's Nugget Nectar.  The beer has a strange bite that is different from the usual hoppiness of beers and difficult to describe.  While the aftertaste isn't bad, the initial bite is just too much to endure to make it worth it.

Another loser for the week was Dogfish Head Tweason'ale.  This was my first experience with Dogfish Head, and while I'd heard good things, this was definitely underwhelming at best.  The label says it is infused with strawberry and honey flavors, which are definitely present, but seem to conflict with the malty flavor of the beer, not add to it.  Though I was slightly disappointed, I am definitely willing to give Dogfish Head a chance to redeem themselves, after all, they can't all be winners.

Rounding out the list of losers for the week is Corona Extra.  This is one of the more widely popular beers in the US and I can see why.  It has a mild flavor and is extremely carbonated; it kind of feels like you're drinking alcoholic soda (minus the sugar).  That being said, it just wasn't for me.  Perhaps it was because I was drinking mine sans lime, but the beer just seemed kind of bland and didn't really do anything for me.

The only winner of the week came while I was in Philadelphia.  While eating a delicious (albeit expensive) burger I also enjoyed Schlafly Brand's Hefeweizen Ale.  Hefeweizen is a German-style wheat beer that traces its origins back to the 16th century.  Wheat beers are by far my favorite type of beer and this one was fantastic.  It was light and smooth, with a very good bready-malt flavor.

Well, that's it for this week.  I have a brand new Wegman's six-pack waiting for me at home and this week is also the Scranton Brew Fest, so I should have plenty to write about in my next On Tap segment.  Until next week, stay thirsty my friends!

Easter Weekend

My Easter weekend was pretty damn awesome.  When I got home from work on Friday, I was just sitting around thinking about what to do with my impending weekend when the desire to drive took over.  I didn’t go anywhere new or unfamiliar; I hopped in my car and headed to my dad’s house.  I did this for two reasons, 1) I can almost never get enough of my family (they are hilarious) and 2) My little sister is game for anything.  She is currently unemployed and single so she is literally attachment free, and she will pretty much say yes to whatever crazy idea I throw out there (one of the many reasons why I love her).  So we sat down with a map (ok, Google map) and tried to decide where to go, keeping in mind that I had work on Monday.  We eventually settled on Atlantic City.

“Why Atlantic City?” you may ask.  Well, recently I’ve had the strangest desire to see the ocean.  I try to make it a point to get to the beach at least once a year and have always loved trips to the shore.  One of my many dreams is to own a piece of property on or near the beach.  Also, Atlantic City was attractive because we figured if we got tired of walking on the beach/board walk that we could always find something else to do. 

So the next morning we got up, hopped in my car and drove to the ocean; it was very Little Miss Sunshine, ya know, minus the heroin-addicted grandpa, beauty pageant, and VW bus.  We got there in no time and had a blast.  We walked along the beach, I took some pictures, trolled the boardwalk, did some gambling (I won $2!), and got my fortune told by some creepy machine outside the Ripley’s museum (the gist of which was, “seize the day”).  Once we had pretty much exhausted AC, we hopped in the car and headed back north and decided to stop in Philly.   We visited the new Xfinity Live entertainment complex and had some ($16) burgers and watched the Flyers game.  After that, we decided to go see my college buddy Mike, who was in Philly visiting family.  We had some drinks, played some games, and I got to meet his new boyfriend.  Indeed, the only crappy part about our adventure was that, due to a little mix-up, we ended up having to drive back from Philly at 2:00am.  But even that wasn’t so bad; in fact, it was kind of a fitting end to a crazy day.

Well, that was my weekend.  Here’s to hoping for many more just like it!

Drive

Lately I’ve had this feeling like I need to go somewhere, somewhere new, somewhere strange and unfamiliar.  I don’t know where exactly but part of me is tempted to just get in my car, pick a direction and drive.  It doesn’t need to be a long vacation type deal, just a weekend getaway.  The past couple weekends I’ve pretty much just hung around the apartment trying to find ways to entertain myself.  Let me tell you, I get bored of myself pretty damn quick.  Don’t get me wrong, I could watch reruns of my favorite TV shows or movies or read a book, but as much as I enjoy them, it can sometimes feel like I’m just wasting my life sitting on the couch.  Sometimes I’m watching a show or reading a book and wishing so bad that my life were as interesting as the characters in them.  I need to stop wishing and start doing!

It might be easier to go on one of these weekend adventures if I had some friends in the area to drag along.  Ok, maybe not easier, but definitely more fun.  I wonder if any of my friends are as secretly adventurous as I am.  This is so sad, I need an escape.  The REALLY sad part is that in a couple hours this feeling will subside and I will slip back into the comfortable confines of the familiar. 

Happy Friday, I guess.

New Poem: Men are not...

I've been working on this poem for a few days now.  The subject matter is a little heavy, but I like to think it's still accessible.  Maybe not.  Whatever.  Enjoy!


Men are not by own ideas made

Men are not by own ideas made
Into molds of other men or wrought,
Beaten and shaped into a garden spade
From flames of self-originating thought.

Ingrained within you is the subtle fact:
Nothing from nothingness shall ever spring
A dream, an instinct, an impulse act,
A thought as thoughtless as a borrowed thing.

A hand pulled back the reflex hammer
And set the prehistoric dominos,
Designed intelligence amid the clamor,
Who built an argument that shows

God as a man with an empty hat
In which breeds countless white rabbits.

Pen Pal

Today I wrote a letter to Pulitzer Prize winning poet Ted Kooser asking him to critique a small sample of my work and give me advice on getting published.  I fully expect it to go unanswered; I knew that before I started the letter, but that didn't stop me from doing it.  If I get a reply I will post it here on the blog.  For your enjoyment, I have posted one of my favorites poems by him.

Daddy Longlegs

BY TED KOOSER

Here, on fine long legs springy as steel,

a life rides, sealed in a small brown pill

that skims along over the basement floor

wrapped up in a simple obsession.

Eight legs reach out like the master ribs

of a web in which some thought is caught

dead center in its own small world,

a thought so far from the touch of things

that we can only guess at it. If mine,

it would be the secret dream

of walking alone across the floor of my life

with an easy grace, and with love enough

to live on at the center of myself.

On Tap: Elder Betty

Oh.  My.  God.  The elderberries taste like elderberries!  Ok, so maybe I should explain.  Rather than beat around the bush, I’ve decided to get right to this week’s big winner.  And when I say big, I mean BIG.  The beer I am about to describe is almost beyond description.  It was so delicious I could hardly put it down.  The beer I am referring to is Magic Hat Elder Betty, which is their summer seasonal beer.  And let me just say, they nailed it.  Much like Leinenkugel’s Summer Shandy makes me want to chill poolside, soaking up the warm summer sun, so too does Magic Hat Elder Betty evoke thoughts of summer.  I want to go sit in the grass, on a hill with this beer in my hand and just watch the clouds pass.

Elder Betty has a bready malt flavor that is bite-free and complimented nicely by just the right infusion of elderberry flavors.  A case of this beer would be both a blessing and a curse, because I’m sure I’d be drunk in a matter of hours.   If you have never tried this beer, you simply must.  And if you don’t like it, I don’t think we can be friends.   

As good as my recent Magic Hat experience was, it may have been made even better by the mediocre beer that preceded it: Long Trail Brewing Company’s Long Trail Ale.  This beer was just blah, totally uninspiring and forgettable.   It had moderate hoppiness and a flavor that, while robust, just wasn’t that good.  But it didn’t matter, Magic Hat came to the rescue and the night was saved.

As for the week ahead, I still have my Dogfish Head Tweason’ale waiting for me at home and I may venture out into humanity and sample another beer or two over the weekend.   The world is my oyster and I plan to shuck it. 

Getting Serious

If you haven’t figured out by now, I’m pretty big into poetry.  I started writing when I was 16 and have penned about 50 poems that I’m willing to stake my name to (and another dozen or so, early works that will never see the light of day).  Although I’ve been writing for almost ten years, it has recently occurred to me that I haven’t really been taking my work seriously.  By that I mean, poetry has always been more of a hobby for me than a career.  Making it as a writer is hard enough, making it as a professional poet is damn near impossible.  That being said, I have resolved myself to give more to my craft, to expend every effort I can think of to further myself creatively and professionally.

To this end, my approach has two facets: 1) I have to write more.  I need to constantly be jotting down, ideas, lines, anything that inspires me.  I need to read more, experience more, expose myself to anything that could help me grow as a writer.  2) I have to get published; this is by far the more difficult aspect.  I have begun compiling a list of literary contests in which amateur poets can gain national acclaim and have their poetry published.   There are both contests for individual poems and for manuscripts of varying length.  Make no mistake, these are not so-called “vanity” poetry contests, these are legitimate, nationally recognized contests entered by professional writers.

Now I know that the likelihood of winning any of these contests is slim at best, and that’s ok.  In all seriousness, I don’t expect to win.  But even if I go my whole life without ever being a published author, at least it won’t be because I was too afraid or lazy to try.  I have begun revising my current manuscript that I started in college and I plan on adding new poems, removing works I feel are less than my best effort, playing around with the arrangement, etc.  The idea is to do this every year, submitting a copy of my manuscript to the aforementioned contests until I get published.  By doing this, at least I’ll be able to feel like I tried.