Celebrate National Poetry Month!

This is probably the earliest poem I can remember — Shel Silverstein’s “Whatif,” It was  read to us in grade school from “A Light In the Attic.”

“Whatif”

Last night, while I lay thinking here,
some Whatifs crawled inside my ear
and pranced and partied all night long
and sang their same old Whatif song:
Whatif I’m dumb in school?
Whatif they’ve closed the swimming pool?
Whatif I get beat up?
Whatif there’s poison in my cup?
Whatif I start to cry?
Whatif I get sick and die?
Whatif I flunk that test?
Whatif green hair grows on my chest?
Whatif nobody likes me?
Whatif a bolt of lightning strikes me?
Whatif I don’t grow talle?
Whatif my head starts getting smaller?
Whatif the fish won’t bite?
Whatif the wind tears up my kite?
Whatif they start a war?
Whatif my parents get divorced?
Whatif the bus is late?
Whatif my teeth don’t grow in straight?
Whatif I tear my pants?
Whatif I never learn to dance?
Everything seems well, and then
the nighttime Whatifs strike again!

http://faculty.weber.edu/chansen/humanweb/projects/MeghanUng/whatif.htm

I was lucky enough to reconnect today with Mike Hensdill, a colleague of mine from my newspaper days at the Culpeper Star-Exponent in Virginia.

Aside from being funny as hell to work with, Mike is a fantastic photographer with a great eye.

Check out his work here:

http://michaelhensdill.com/

It’s National Poetry Month, and I insist on observing it, even if my Philistine friends ignore me.

This is probably the earliest exposure to verse that I can remember — my parents played Irish ballads on 8-Track tapes when we had company over when I was a tot.  It is “Irish Soldier Boy,” performed by Paddy Reilly.

Yes … 8-Track tapes.  I WAS A TOT.

Anyway, I grew up hearing these when I was very little.  I believe the one that I remember best was “Wild Rover,” but I also remember this one after my mother remembered the title for me.

https://mail.google.com/mail/#inbox/1453dea36c62ea1b?projector=1

WHY THE HELL CAN’T YOU BE.

Because my eyes went right to that totally sweet-ass classic antique Underwood typewriter before they noticed the woman’s legs.

Sad, really.

Dear Lord, read the one for “The Great Gatsby!!!”

http://www.buzzfeed.com/chrisritter16/11-beloved-books-with-shockingly-bad-reviews

Passing this along again today to a few colleagues; Dagda Publishing is seeking reviewers.

http://dagdapublishing.com/2013/08/17/are-you-a-reviewer-wed-like-to-get-in-contact-with-you/

To mark National Poetry Month, I’m sharing my favorite places to find new poetry from up and coming writers.  All three of these communities are great places to meet readers, writers, colleagues and friends:

Dagda Publishing

http://dagdapublishing.co.uk/

Dead Snakes

http://deadsnakes.blogspot.com/

Dead Beats Literary Blog

http://www.deadbeats.eu/