Posts Tagged "No Need of Sympathy"

My Wobbly Bicycle, 135

Posted by on Mar 15, 2017 in Archive | 3 comments

My Wobbly Bicycle, 135

Launching The Woods Are On Fire: New & Selected Poems tomorrow!  Today I offer you the tiniest poem in the book, from No Need of Sympathy (BOA 2013). I want to thank BOA for giving permission for me to use 20 poems from a collection that hadn’t been out all that long. That can cut into their sales, so I urge you to have a look at that book, also. This poem was one of a series of short poems I wrote in response to sculptures by the artist Bill Allen.  The poems and pieces were part of an exhibit at the Dennos Museum in Traverse City.  I wanted short poems so a person could stand there...

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My Wobbly Bicycle, 77

Posted by on Aug 5, 2014 in Archive | 7 comments

My Wobbly Bicycle, 77

I wish to discuss the condition of non-writing. I wish to discuss the condition of non-writing as I begin a ten-day residency at the Rainier Writing Workshop, the MFA program in which I am faculty. 1. Non-writing is not writer’s block. Writer’s Block assumes a normal flood of creativity being temporarily held back by some mysterious barrier. 2. Non-writing is not willful refusal to write—an unwillingness born of insecurity (I’m not good enough) or fear (If I tell that story, god knows, I might unleash a firestorm within me). 3. Non-writing is not lack of energy, although these days...

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My Wobbly Bicycle, 59

Posted by on Jan 29, 2014 in Archive | 5 comments

My Wobbly Bicycle, 59

If you’re a subscriber, you may have wondered why you haven’t gotten notification of posts for the last two weeks. I know you breathlessly await word from me! We’ve had some problem with the notification system, and I trust it’s fixed now. Any time you don’t hear, check Facebook, where I also post, or go straight to fledabrown.com. Tired of my snow photos? Can’t help it. Too dramatic not to show you. It’s zero, and the snow is so high. . .how high is it? People are digging out their mailboxes. You have to be careful pulling into an intersection because the snow’s so high...

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My Wobbly Bicycle, 50

Posted by on Nov 19, 2013 in Archive | 18 comments

My Wobbly Bicycle, 50

I could change the name of my blog to Doctors, Ad Seriatim. I’m posting this early because today we’re heading downstate, to Ann Arbor, having a pre-op consultation for Jerry’s very-big-deal back surgery on Dec. 3. He’ll be in the hospital for about a week, rehab after that. About six months’ recovery time. Another winter of hunkering down and getting better. How will this be for us, after last winter? A friend wrote to say how glad she was to see that I feel like relegating cancer to a much lesser position in my posts. The last two, it’s hardly been there. True. I think...

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My Wobbly Bicycle, 48

Posted by on Nov 6, 2013 in Archive | 28 comments

My Wobbly Bicycle, 48

Years ago, when my former husband had just been hired at the University of Delaware, the then-Department Chair offered to fly me from Arkansas to Delaware to look for a house for our family. (Can you imagine that now?) The night I arrived, there was a guest poet reading. I was invited. The poet was the late, great, silver-haired Seamus Heaney. I’d read a few of his poems, but basically I didn’t know squat.  At the reception—which was quite intimate, at someone’s house—we were brushing shoulders, picking up cheese and crackers. I could have said anything, asked him anything. But I...

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