When the pie was opened, the birds began to sing... Turns out, of the four-and-twenty blackbirds, 20 were men and only 4 were women! I know I promised to post the next installment of PM's journey, but an interesting conversation is bubbling up around a piece published by VIDA, Women in the Literary Arts, and I just … Continue reading pie, publishing & swagger
Tag: poetry
the birth of pokey, part II
In which Pokey becomes a Master of Regret and encounters Temporary Blindness. My friend Maya describes how she recently came across a photograph of herself at a party when her daughter was an infant. “I was wearing red pants! Red pants! What was I thinking? Who does that?” This, dear reader, is the question of … Continue reading the birth of pokey, part II
no place like home
click.click.click. In the poetry workshop I taught this fall we talked a lot about repetition and variation. We agreed that repetition can be a good thing in a poem, like an engine moving you forward when you think you might be stuck. It worked for Dorothy: there’s no place like home, there’s no place like … Continue reading no place like home
the pokey pledge
When I first imagined Pokey Mama, I didn’t see her as a blog, per se, at least in the sense of daily/frequent musings, updates, etc. Not that there’s anything wrong with that. But I had a clear vision of telling a kind of serialized story: my journey through pregnancy into motherhood followed by the chaos … Continue reading the pokey pledge
Red Light, Green Light
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
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?
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
Amy Dryansky 