In regard to posting a full-length essay with accoutrements on a weekly basis Pokey has given herself the green light to forgo the self-flagellation and instead allow for occasional blathering and newsy news in between the fabulousness of the longer posts, hence, the following items that may be of interest: Pokey Reads! Words will be … Continue reading Red Light, Green Light
Tag: Poet
And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
So sad I’ve been not to be here at Pokey Mama that I couldn’t stand to look at the little tab on my Favorites bar with the mini PM staring forlornly at me from way out in cyberspace. If not now, when? she asks plaintively, or sometimes, when feeling bullish (in the Hemingway sense of … Continue reading And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
bear, not tree
Of course I love them, they are my children. This is my daughter and this my son. And this is my life I give them to please them. It has never been used. Keep it safe. Pass it on. The Mother, Anne Stevenson I subscribe to a women’s poetry list serv, and this poem was … Continue reading bear, not tree
Colic the Muse
What is colic, exactly? Raise your hand if you think you know. Now, stand on one foot if you know someone who’s had a colicky baby. OK. With the hand not raised pick up something fragile and adored that weighs anywhere between 8-12 pounds. Got it? Oh, and it should emit a continuous, oddly-pitched screech … Continue reading Colic the Muse
out-of-office reply
Thank you for visiting Pokey Mama. Pokey is on vacation this week. She's a real person and sometimes she gets tired and has to go away and not think so much. Please come back on 8/23 and see what a little relaxation does to her brain. In the meantime, her poems are live at Poets … Continue reading out-of-office reply
Later
Recently I co-facilitated a writing workshop in my home town. Our group met in the Field Memorial library-- Marshall Field, that is, who grew up in Conway, made a fortune in Chicago and left us citizens a remarkable temple to books. To get to the library you must ascend many shallow stone stairs and shoulder open … Continue reading Later
the birth of pokey
Once Pokey got through the morning sickness part, she loved being pregnant. She was fascinated by the progress her body made, the way she looked and felt. It’s powerful making that life, walking around with your belly sticking out, no apologies. You ladies get what I mean. And I had a book coming out! A … Continue reading the birth of pokey
in threes
I just got word that three of my poems will be featured on the Poets for Living Waters site. (I encourage you to visit there, but don’t look for my poems, they aren’t up yet. I’ll let you know when.) The project was initiated by Amy King and Heidi Lynn Staples in response to the … Continue reading in threes
an inkling
When last we met Pokey Mama she’d finally achieved conception and was about to reach another milestone, the publication of her first book. This collection of poems had made the rounds; it made short-lists and long-lists, it was honorably mentioned, semi-finalized, reshuffled, revised, excised and augmented, to the point where the current manuscript was as … Continue reading an inkling
All the Difference
I had so much fun self-publishing my poem last week that I may have to do it again. I know; I’m so wild. Some of you readers also got excited about the “vanity” discussion, and the idea that traditional and self-directed publishing aren’t necessarily an either/or situation. This got me thinking about how that kind … Continue reading All the Difference
Amy Dryansky 