Writing the Blues

by Margaret Fieland

I've been a fan of the blues, the musical genre for years. But there's a lot I don't know about the it, as I found out when I took a quick peek online in Wikipedia http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Blues. That hasn't stopped me from writing a series of poems I've labeled blues. They're rhymed, rhythmic, and, well, see for yourself.

The first one I'm sharing is called Street Corner Blues. I'm a native New Yorker, born and raised in Manhattan. When I was in my 20s, the first apartment I rented without a roommate was on third avenue south of Fourteenth street, just above the East Village. Hookers, prostitutes, junkies, and drug dealers hung out on the corner. Local law enforcement had their hands full, and often, as far as I could tell, looked the other way.

One day last summer I was in down town Osterville, a very upscale town on Cape Cod, when I spied a couple of young men, underwear clearly visible above their low hanging pants, hanging around on a corner, and I flashed on the story in this poem. Who knows what the pair were actually doing – probably nothing more sinister than waiting for their mother to finish her shopping.

Street Corner Blues

Waiting on cracked sidewalk,
want to cadge a ride,
my ears catch rough, tough talk,
full of macho pride.

Two, three  brothers talking.
One guy pulls his gun.
I  start out slowly walking,
turn around, then run.

Hear three shots behind me,
next a sudden scream.
I’m done for if they find me,
knowing everything I seen.

Sitting on my sofa,
someone’s at my door,
pounding, kicks it open.
Don’t remember nothing more.

Cops come by to see me
in my hospital bed.
say, “Talk, man, or he goes free.”
But if I do, I’m dead.

Don’t remember nothing,
ain’t seen nobody fight.
I ain’t heard no gunshots
ringing through dark night.

This next poem has at its heart a true incident. I used to study ballet, and continued into my 20's. One night in class, I stepped wrong when making a pique turn, and twisted my knee. Not realizing how bad it was, I took the subway home, and by the time I hobbled up the subway stairs onto 14th street, I could barely walk. One of the many junkies hanging out offered to help me home. This man made polite conversation about the merits of Tae Kwan Do, and what he thought of Chuck Norris (a good friend was a martial arts devotee) all the way back to my apartment building. I have never forgotten this stranger's kindness to me.

The Help Me, Someone, Blues

I slip, slide on a banana,
a sudden fall. I twist my knee,
grab the lamp post, pull to standing,
no one spares a glance at me.
Not one single person's stopping,
but, hey, it's New York City.
I'm calling out the help me, someone, blues.

My knee's twisted, my knee's throbbing,
and I'm in a lot of pain.
I don't know what is going on
but something's wrong, it's plain.
I pick up the darn banana,
and I toss it down the drain.
I'm still hoping for the help me, someone, blues.

I take a few steps, slowly
limp and stumble down the street.
My whole left leg is ballooning.
I sit down on the concrete.
No way I can stagger home.
I must admit defeat.
I'm yelling out the help me, someone, blues.

I spot someone approaching,
had a bit too much to drink.
From five feet away the liquor
oozes off him. What a stink.
He comes right over to me,
says, "You need a hand, I think.
You're calling out the help me, someone, blues."

He loops my arm around his shoulder,
walks me right up to my door.
Murmurs, "Maam, it's been my pleasure,
not in any way a chore."
His head's stuck in a bottle,
but he was my savior,
the answer to the help me, someone, blues.

And here's one final poem, inspired by a quick dash down the stairs to the T in Boston one rainy night.

A Token for the Train

I clatter down the stairway,
buy a token for the train,
have no special destination,
seeking shelter from the rain.
Then I'm standing on the platform,
wondering why I'm here again.

In the station, sudden darkness,
hear the rattle of the train.
People screaming on the platform
echoes, drumming in my brain.
We can't see where we're going,
I turn round and round again.

I wonder why this havoc's happening,
wonder how we're getting out.
We're stumbling, bumbling in this darkness
turning, churning round about.
Someone's fallen on the train tracks,
all around folks scream and shout.

There's a whistle in the tunnel
and the clacking of the train,
then the screech and scream of metal
that's protesting from its pain,
squeals and squeaks of brakes engaging
as they work to stop the train.

I hear footsteps running over,
someone's jumping to the track,
followed by their grunts and groaning
as they pull the jumper back,
feel some thumping on platform.
My head's spinning, things go black.

Someone helps me back to standing
as the lights are coming on,
train doors close, it leaves the station.
Now the crowds of folks have gone.
I figure I'd be better walking
after all that has gone wrong.

Visit my website and blog
http://www.margaretfieland.com/

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Fie on Ties: Let's Support Publishing and Fellow Authors on Father's Day!

My writing friend Carolyn Howard-Johnson is celebrating Father's Day with poetry this year. This is how:


How about literature for Father’s Day instead of ties or dinner?

We know ties are a cliché and in a few years, Dad won’t remember one Father’s Day dinner from another. Let’s face it, not all literature is created equal, thus some books are just as fleeting, though most would be a step up from a gift certificate and certainly would help support the industry that we believe important for the future.

I’m proposing—selfishly—poetry. Frugally!

First, you may have never given your father, grandfather, or a favorite father figure in your life a book of poetry. Thus, it will be memorable.
A small book of poetry will also be flattering. He will appreciate being treated tenderly. In fact, present a small chapbook with a single rose or gladiolus spray. Who says that only women want romance and tenderness in their lives!

Some of the readers of this blog could easily write a poem—even if they don’t think poetry their forte. Print it out on some lineny paper and present it with any other gift you may be giving.

You might choose to tuck it inside the cover of the Chapbook Imagining the Future: Ruminations on Fathers and Other Masculine Apparitions that Magdalena Ball and I wrote for our Celebration Series of chapbooks. Our idea for this series is to have small books written for those who prefer something a little a little more literary than the typical greeting card, but still accessible for those who didn’t study literature in school. And at an affordable price. With cover art (and sometimes interior art) chosen from among our circle of talented writing and artist friends.

Most of our booklets are $6.95. We now have one for mothers (She Wore Emerald Then: Reflections on Motherhood, www.budurl.com/MotherChapbook), one that says love (Cherished Pulse: Unconventional Love Poetry), and one for men and fathers (Imagining the Future). We’re working on one for Christmas (not the holidays, but Christmas). It will be called Blooming Red.

Think of your poetry presentation to Dad as a Father’s Day card; it costs little more than a really nice one. Or think of it as a tuck-in gift or a tie-on as part of the wrap. Any poetry book you choose can be made more personal if you tie in a little grosgrain or satin ribbon inside the crease of the book to be used as a bookmark.

And don’t forget the hug.

Here is a sample poem from Imagining the Future : It was originally published by Dash, a literary journal.

Long Before They Shut the Napster Down

my father collected blursounds
get out of town
downloaded into the night soft jazzy
lights, sweet pink smoke
the smell of Jack Daniel's hot
satin doll
to real applause, nothing canned

found in the night a voice
like a staccato bass Wes Bowen
at KSL croons ella and shearing
at midnight to benefit a crowd
of one, alone at the wheel
make believe

marimbas, smooth
lullaby of birdland
sweet humanbaby-whine of clarinets
and a moon
no electronic nothing
humthrum of base, brushswish metal on cymbals

tell you what it's all about
lucky to get it before they shut the music down
smokey joe's
dispenser of joy, free of charge
cut me a rose

Happy Father's Day!
Carolyn Howard-Johnson
www.howtodoitfrugally.com

Poetry and iPad? You Betcha!

Celebration Series of Poems iPad Bound

Technology is ever changing. It’s almost impossible to keep up with the latest news, gadgets, and trends, especially when it comes to e-books and reading habits.

Yet the least likely of tech-geeks, authors Carolyn Howard-Johnson and Magdalena Ball, are always keen and to meet their readers’ needs, and when Smashwords.com announced its new deal with Apple to produce formats suitable for the iPad and Apple’s new iBookstore, the authors immediately agreed, and jumped into action, pulling together the appropriate formatting for all of their Celebration Series books and putting them forward for conversion.

The celebration series has been designed specifically to replace the trite, cliché sentiments of greeting cards, at prices that are little more than the cost of a high end card. Many of the books are beautifully illustrated with paintings or photographs, with poetry designed along themes that focus on mothers, fathers and other men

More books are in the works, including a Christmas chapbook. Hard copies of all the books are available at Amazon as giftable, low-priced paperbacks, or you can pick them up in whatever format suits, including the iPad, Kindle, Epub (Stanza reader),.pdf, LTF (for Sony reader), and more at Smashwords.com. Note: As this date Smashwords doesn’t accept coauthor listings. That these formats are evolving is evident!

So, though two authors are involved, this page lists only Ball who set the page up.

As far as Howard-Johnson and Ball are concerned, whatever format suits their reader suits them. It’s all good.

Magdalena Ball runs the highly respected compulsivereader.com review site. She is the author of the poetry book Repulsion Thrust, which was published in December 2009 to unanimous 5-star reviews. Her novel Sleep Before Evening, published in 2007, was a Next Generation Indie Book Awards Finalist.

Carolyn Howard-Johnson's poetry appears frequently in review journals. She is listed in Poets & Writers and her chapbook of poetry, Tracings (www.budurl.com/CarolynsTracings ), was given the Award of Excellence by the Military Writers Society of America. She is also an award-winning novelist and short story writer and instructor for UCLA Extension Writers' Program.

For more information on any of the chapbooks in this poetry series, contact either of the authors or visit media rooms at www.howtodoitfrugally.com or www.magdalenaball.com .
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Support material available electronically or by post on request.

Other headshots and book cover art is available.

Literary Journal Publishes Poetry, Photography, Stores

Karen, founder of Writers on the Move, invited me to drop by occasionally to add resources or information that might benefit her blog visitors. I thought many would like to know about this literary journal that publishes a number of stories and poems each year.


Editors of the literary journal Manzanita, Poetry and Prose of the Mother Lode and Sierra announce that it will include the poetry of UCLA Extension Writers’ Program instructor Carolyn Howard-Johnson in it’s sixth issue to be released in April.

The journal is an affiliate of Calavaras Arts Council. It is a printed literary collection of poetry, prose, art and photography of the Mother Lode and Sierra regions of California and features work that appeals to the sensibilities of readers in that area from writers and artists across the U.S. It is edited by Monika Rose and poetry editor is Julia Holzer.

The poem selected is "Sacred Lessons from the Sierra Madre" and features impressions from Carolyn's travels in the Sierras in Mexico. Her poetry has appeared in literary journals like the Mochila Review, Banyan Review, Pear Noir and Poetic Voices. One of her poems won a reader award at The Pedestal Magazine.

Howard-Johnson has studied at UCLA with Suzanne Lummis, editor of Speechless the Magazine (http://www.speechlessthemagazine.org/) where her chapbook Tracings, winner of Military Writers Society of America’s Award of Excellence and published by Finishing Line Press, was featured in 2005.

The poet's literary novel, This Is the Place, has won eight awards. Her book of creative nonfiction has won three. She is developing a new Celebration Series of poetry chapbooks with Magdalena Ball. Among them are She Wore Emerald Then: Reflections on Motherhood and Cherished Pulse: Unconventional Love Poetry. She also advocates with authors as the author of the multi award-winning HowToDoItFrugally series of books for writers (www.howtodoitfrugally.com).



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Early American Poetry "Beauty in Words" - A Review

Title: Early American Poetry “Beauty in Words”
Author: Stephanie Buckwalter
Publisher: Enslow Publishers, Inc.
ISBN: 13: 978-0-7660-3277-4
ISBN: 10: 0-7660-3277-9

Early American Poetry “Beauty in Words” explores poetry in America from colonial days to the end of the nineteenth century. It is a wonderful stepping stone for children to journey into the world of verse. Illustrations and pictures of the authors lend an air of informality to the book while the poems, facts, information, and descriptions enlighten the child to poets such as Anne Bradstreet, Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, Edgar Allan Poe, Emily Dickenson, and Walt Whitman, to name a few.

In a complete package, Buckwalter includes the elements of poetry, such as stanzas and poetic meter. She also includes explanations of words and terminology featured in the poems and time period of the poems. Along with this, there are very interesting, yet brief, biographies of the poets, including details of their writings, bringing to light the hows and whys of the poems. In addition, Buckwalter sheds light on romanticism, reality, and poetic license and technique. This detailed analysis is provided in easy to read content.

As an added feature, at the end of each poets section, Buckwalter provides further reading resources. This is a valuable tool for the child who is sparked by a particular poet and wants to learn more.

I fondly remember as a youth reading a couple of the poems Buckwalter included in Early American Poetry “Beauty in Words.” Without this type of children’s book, our youth would miss out on learning about a beautiful form of writing and a certain perspective of the world around us.

In the introduction, Buckwalter explains: “Poets often see the world differently from most people. Some can see things hidden in the mundane; others scale lofty heights of philosophy. They all take words that capture ideas, feelings, and truth, and arrange them in ways that illuminate those realities.” I love this explanation; it’s simple, yet profound.

I highly recommend this book for children with the grade levels recommended.

Reviewed by Karen Cioffi, award-winning children's author and ghostwriter
http://karencioffiwritingforchildren.com

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