103 deg ~ yep, yet another day of trip-digits, but hey, we get a break tomorrow with a high of 95…break out the long underwear!

From the OED:

petrichor, n.

 A pleasant, distinctive smell frequently accompanying the first rain after a long period of warm, dry weather in certain regions. Also: an oily liquid mixture of organic compounds which collects in the ground and is believed to be responsible for this smell.

 What I’d like to know is, how have I, a poet who loves dirt and the weather, gone this long without knowing this word?

Many thanks to Jean Morris who posts at Tasting Rhubarb for enlightening me.  Morris links to Marja-Leena Rathje’s blog with more information.  Apparently Bear and Thomas coined the word in 1964 for use in their article as quoted by the OED.  Cool that the OED quote is the original use of the word.

Here’s a little Van Gogh painting to imprint the word for me, “Wheat Field In Rain.” (Click image for link to original website.)

99 deg ~ today will be our 12th day of 100+ temps, with at least one more tomorrow…broiling hot…one local car dealership is baking cookies on the dashes of cars as a promotion…not even cookies would entice me out onto a concrete lot filled with oven-cars

The title of today’s post is a gender-modified quote from Dances with Wolves, which I love for the sweeping images of the prairie, shot in the Dakotas.  Just in case you were wondering where I’ve been, here are two photos from our trip to Tensing Pen Resort in Negril, Jamaica. 

If you remember, Dear Readers, June and the beginning of July were not kind to my body.  I had an injured back and then two rounds of antibiotics for a stubborn sinus infection/bronchitis situation.  In fact, I finished my antibiotics three days before we flew to Jamaica.  I’m wondering now if simply booking a cottage at Tensing Pen wouldn’t be cheaper than all the Western medicine for which I paid.  I am arrived back home fully cured of all my ills, rested, restored, and ready to rock the fall semester (which sadly begins on the 16th, although I report on the 9th).

While I took many books of poetry on our trip, C and I traveled with some of our best friends (four adults and one toddler), and it turned out that I didn’t get as much reading time in as I’d planned.  I did, however, read four or five journals on the plane rides.  What I do whenever I travel now is this: I read the journal and tear out any poems or prose that move me to keep them.  Then, I leave behind the slightly lighter journal (with a note if I had to tear out a page with the beginning or ending of another piece).  I hope in this way that someone who might not ordinarily read a lit mag will stumble across it and give it a chance.  Now I have a stack of torn-out pages (with the journal credits duly noted).  In a bit, I’ll go through them again for a second read and the stack will grow smaller as I recycle those that don’t stick.  The ones that do will go up on the walls of my office at work.

As for the blog-o-sphere, I spent the morning with Google Reader, which doesn’t count above 1000 posts.  I had the 1000+ label waiting for me as “Unread” this morning.  Sadly, I had to force myself to simply “Mark All as Read” over and over again.  I am so sorry, my fellow bloggers!  I know that I’ve missed births and deaths, acceptances and rejections, and some wonderful writing.  However, the slate is clean now, and I look forward to picking up the thread of our shared conversations.

The Kangaroo Rises Again.

99 deg ~ come on, just one more little degree and we get trip-digits, full sun, of course

My title is a bit misleading today, as it should be in the past tense and the negative: Where I wasn’t calling from, but I love the Carver allusion. I’ve been busy with family and friends, and I’ll give you two photo hints as to the where.

Yep, you guessed it: Iowa and Illinois. My man and I had a great time seeing friends (hey, Sean-Kirsten-Harper!) and family (hey, Longhorn family!).

Poetry has gone by the wayside a bit, first due to health issues and then traveling. Posts may be sparse here until the first week of August as I try to finish up July with friends and an attempt to recover my health to 100%. Never-fear, Dear Faithful Readers, the Kangaroo will rise again next month.

77 deg ~ rain storm cooled, cloudy skies, heat rising through the end of the week

And the winner of J. Michael Martinez’ Heredities is… (imagine your own drumroll)… Sherry O’Keefe, the one who was new to the comment field and felt least likely to win.  That makes me happy.  I also love the name of Sherry’s blog: Too Much August, Not Enough Snow.  (I think I’d flip that around, though.)  Sherry, I’ll be sending an email your way to get your details.  Congrats. 

Here’s a screen shot of the Random Number Generator to keep everything honest.

81 deg ~ heavy humidity and gray skies

Today has been a repeat of last Saturday.  I’ve been to the River Market for the Little Rock Farmers Market and taken some photos to share with y’all.  As soon as this is posted, I’m starting on REVISION.  However, today, I’m revising the book: In a World Made of Such Weather as This.  For a month or so, I’ve been mulling over what the weaknesses of the book might be.  It was a finalist several times this year and a semi-finalist as well.  That’s encouraging, of course, but also tells me that some changes still might be necessary.  Wish me luck.

the Arkansas River hazy/gray morning

USS Razorback

a piece of the “little rock”

Miss Becky, my peach connection (Crowley’s Ridge, AR)

flowers!

early arrival means a lighter crowd, 20 more minutes and the aisles are packed

Something for the vegivores

83  deg ~ big rain this morning, now gray and breezy with lots of lovely humidity

As a member of the Academy of American Poets, I just received my copy of the 2009 Whitman winner, Heredities by J. Michael Martinez.  I was lucky enough to meet the poet and get a signed copy of this book in Denver at AWP. Now, the book is nearing the top of my to-read pile, YAY!

Good News, Dear Readers!  I’m giving away the copy that just landed on my doorstep.  Please leave a comment below if you are interested.  On Tuesday, July 13, I’ll use the random number generator to pick a winner.

83 deg ~ hazy cloud layers keeping the temps down a bit, but with the humidity rising, the mugginess means being outside is not comforting for long ~ last night dramatic black storm clouds & several downpours, but no sustained rain

Today, I’ve finished re-reading Susan’s newest book, The Alchemist’s Kitchen, and I’m muddling through how to best describe this wonderfully dense and diverse book. 

First, a little backstory:  I fell in love with Susan Rich’s poetry when reading her first book, The Cartographer’s Tongue (White Pine Press, 2000).  In particular, the poem “The Mapparium” entranced me.  Susan has lived a traveler’s life, working for the Peace Corps and other human rights organizations.  Her poetry blends her love of the foreign with an ability to write of our humanness with empathy.  I highly recommend y’all check it out. 

Then, to my great joy, Susan began a blog last year in anticipation of the publication of the book, and then I was lucky enough to meet her in person at AWP.  In fact, on the day she had her signing, I actually sat down next to her at a panel and met her there first.  Serendipity like that makes AWP the wonder that it is.

Now, to the book, since I feel that Susan is a friend, I’ll use her first name, as it seems awkward to stick with the academic standard after I’ve gotten to know someone. 

While there isn’t a narrative arc to the book, there is a clear sense that these exact poems belong together in this exact order.  This ability to weave conversations between individual poems is something I admire and envy.  These poems do consider the international, as Susan’s past books have done, but there are also poems that seem more explorations of the poet’s current place as a woman in mid-life, poems that question the aging process, especially as a woman unattached.  Like January Gill O’Neil’s Underlife that I wrote about the other day, I’m in awe of Susan’s ability to open herself, her life view in these poems, and expose what may seem vulnerable to the reader.

To start, here’s a bit of a poem that touches on the political, but also shows off Susan’s wonderful ability with sound and with details.  It’s also a study in concision.  She says so much with so few words.  Listen to the beginning of “Day of the Global Heart”:

Wow, just let those lines roll around on your tongue for a while and you should see why I enjoy Susan’s work.

I also admire Susan’s work with ekphrastic poems.  The second section (of three) is composed of poems inspired by the photographs and life of Myra Albert Wiggins, a woman of the Northwest (as is Susan), whose life spanned the end of the 19th and first half of the 20th centuries.  I hadn’t known of her work, but now, having read the poems, I plan to check her out.  A testament to Susan’s ekphrastic poems is that they work beautifully as poems without any knowledge of the art itself on my part.

Finally, there are poems in the third section of the book that feature a speaker heading toward 50 and working through her relationships with men and romance/love, among other topics.  These poems are frank, avoiding the overly sentimental with the gift of grace and wonderful details.  I have to admire one poem in particular because of the underlying humor that Susan brings to the page.  Here is the poem in full.

If you’re interested in exploring this book more, you’re in luck.  Diane Lockward is hosting a poetry salon about The Alchemist’s Kitchen on her blog, Blogalicious, right now.  Feel free to head over there and grab a glass of wine and some cheese, day or night.  Check out the interview with Susan and the comments, where Susan is answering questions from the guests.   (By the way, Diane has a new book out as well.  Temptation by Water is on my to buy list, as we speak.)

Support a Poet/Poetry
Buy or Borrow a Copy of This Book Today
The Alchemist’s Kitchen
Susan Rich
White Pine Press, 2010

87 deg ~ hazy sky with periodic bursts of sun through clouds, threat of thunderstorms all week

I am embarrassed to admit how long I’ve had January Gill O’Neil’s book Underlife.  I was lucky enough to win a free copy from January during a promotion on her blog, Poet Mom, when the book first came out.  Sadly, the spring semester got crazy, then my summer went into the health dump, so the book remained unread until now.  However, one great thing about books…no expiration date!

Underlife is a wonderful first book.  The three notes I made in the back of the book were:  plain language, feminine, and unshirking.  All of these are compliments, not detractions. 

First, plain language: O’Neil uses spare, straight-forward language, the language of the everyday, and this fits because these poems are a testament to the everday life of a woman, a wife, and a mother.  The speaker, who holds constant throughout the book, tells it like it is.  There is no pretentiousness here, no trying to impress with elevated and academic language.  In fact, the first poem sets this up for the rest of the book.  I love it so much, I’ll include the full text here.

Second, feminine: O’Neil celebrates here all that factors into being a daughter, then a wife, and finally a mother.  While these are poems of domesticity, they are not overly sentimental, and they always pack a punch.  There is wisdom here and a sense that the speaker has earned that wisdom through a life well-lived. 

Third, unshirking: O’Neil doesn’t turn away from the beautiful or the less than beautiful parts of being alive in this world of ours.  She broaches subjects I myself have shied away from, afraid perhaps of revealing too much.  Another favorite of mine, one that shows this brave approach, is “What Mommy Wants,” which has an epigraph “after Kim Addonizio.”  It’s a bit longer, so I’ll just give you the opening.

It’s a little odd, how this blogging and Facebook world has brought me more closely into the private lives of many poets.  From January’s blog, I know that her children are older now than they are in the poems that are clearly written about them.  I also know that the marriage that is often mentioned in the book has now ended.  I was able to separate the biographical from the poems, of course, but it also makes me wonder what the next book might hold.  I know that I’ll be watching to see what this set of keen eyes and brave mind might bring us next.

(Aside, check out this poem-video of “How to Make a Crab Cake,” another favorite of mine from this book.)

Support a Poet/Poetry
Buy or Borrow a Copy of this Book Today
Underlife
January Gill O’Neil
CavanKerry Press, 2009

84 deg ~ some sun, some hazy clouds, the whole world gone lazy with Sunday and a national holiday

I really meant to take today off from blogging, but then I came across three things that I felt I had to share.

First is a poem by Luke Johnson who blogs at Proof of Blog.  Luke’s poem “The Heart, Like a Bocce Ball” is available on Rattle’s blog today with audio.  Do yourself a favor and listen to this gorgeous reading.

~~~~~

Second, thanks to January O’Neil for posting this Czeslaw Milosz poem “Gift” on her blog Poet Mom.  I wasn’t familiar with this poem, but it sums up EXACTLY how I feel on this 4th of July.

Gift

A day so happy.
Fog lifted early, I worked in the garden.
Hummingbirds were stopping over honeysuckle flowers.
There was no thing on earth I wanted to possess.
I knew no one worth envying him.
Whatever evil I had suffered, I forgot.
To think that once I was the same man did not embarrass me.
In my body I felt no pain.
When straightening up, I saw the blue sea and sails.

~Czeslaw Milosz

~~~~~

Third, if I haven’t mention Matt Kish’s blog, One Drawing for Every Page of Moby Dick, then I’ve been remiss.  Today’s drawing for page 297, pictured here, is my absolute favorite so far.  Recently Kish found out that Tin House is going to publish the complete project.  I have tried to read Moby Dick three times in my life and have failed each time.  (My junior English teacher in high school told us she hated the book and wouldn’t put us through the torture of reading it.  Beware teachers, the power your words might hold over a captive audience.) However, I plan to buy Kish’s book as soon as it hits the stands.  If you just want to look at the drawings and not read the blog, go to Kish’s website: Spudd64. 

~~~~~

Fourth, a confession, I am jealous of those who can sketch, draw, and paint.  I follow a blog called Urban Sketchers, and I think how wonderful it must be to be able to carry home a piece of art of your own making any time you venture out into the world.   Perhaps in the next lifetime, I’ll have more talent there.