As much as I laud those who attack National Novel Writing Month with great zeal, I am a poet not a novelist. So in my own parallel to NaNoWriMo, I’ve decided to once again work my way through each of the poetic forms identified in my old standby resource, Lewis Turco’s Book of Forms: Revised Edition starting with the acrostic and ending with the virelai – hitting all the Irish, Welsh and other forms and meters along the way. I’ve done this in the past – I’ll try to post a poem a day, which may take us through the new year.
- Ain’t nothing like the real thing, babyOne of the greatest drives for me, as a writer, is producing for readers. That’s the one thing that keeps me writing in a journal, …
- 16. Philosophize Only By AccidentDespite what you may think, and what they themselves might to try to convince you, philosophers and other professional think-o-logists for thousands of years have …
- The Old Guitar: a love songThey say you are inanimate, but I believe they lie. The world is made of tiny stuff that never quite stands still; and as your …
- Ain’t nothing like the real thing, baby
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