Even though it’s a few days late, happy poetry month. I wanted to celebrate somehow. Maybe write something on the blog. But I think I’ll start by sharing my recently published poem at a tremendous small online press called Anti-Heroin Chic. Click here to read the whole issue online (which I encourage you to do. But if you must skip to my poem. Here’s a link right here.
I will be posting more soon (maybe some other poem of mine may or may not be getting published). Till then I’ll be busy writing and reading and thinking about poems. Bye.
The River Poets of central Pennsylvania are hosting my son Micah James Bauman and I at the Bloomsburg Public Library for a reading from our poetry chapbook collaboration, Mapping the Valley: Hospital Poems (Seven Kitchens Press, February 2021, #12, Volume IV of their Editor’s Series).
Following the reading will be an open mic with the them “Family” (broadly interpreted).
If you are in central or Northeastern Pennsylvania, we’d love for you to join us!
More about Mapping the Valley: Hospital Poems:
“A rare series of poems in alternating voices . . . a unique glimpse into the shifting dynamic of care and caring, depression and recovery, tracked throughout with unflinching honesty.”
— Ron Mohring, editor and founding publisher at Seven…
Dear blog, here I am looking for places to submit my poetry while celebrating selling some of the father/son chapbook I worked on. In fact, it’s been posted on instagram and other places and people say it’s a favorite of theirs and dad and I are amazed.
But what’s not amazing, getting rejection letters and I’ve been reminded of one recently and wanted to feature it on the blog. While I won’t say what publication it is, I will say they’ve been around about as long as I have on this planet.
As you can you the person who responded was pretty vague. Not a real good one. But something was funny about it. “I’m not keeping them” particularly sounded like strange wording to me.
I’d like to end this post with a picture of my dog, Blossom. I’ll post more about her later.
This is Saturday song. I’ve been listening to the new Pomplamoose album this week. I’ll seeing the doctor about an ongoing issue next week. Music makes the time go faster. Everything is going to be okay though. In case your wondering.
I am a little late in announcing this. But I might as well mention it here on the blog before it’s too late. Stef Nunes, editor of Sage Cigarettes’ has nominated me for The Best of The Net Anthology by Sundress Publications. Check out my poem from the 2019 Samhain addition of Sage Cigarettes Magazine over here. And check out all Sage Cigarette issues here.
Also a side note. I heard dad poet has been nominated for something too. Click here to see if you can harass him into revealing what it is. Meanwhile, I’ll try to stop monkeying around and get my big ape brain to submit to more poetry magazines.
It’s official. I’m lost again. Down an internet rabbit hole after looking up videos on YouTube. I just kept watching them and watching them and in a few weeks, I’ll probably still be watching them.
There’s these videos from ABC news on their YouTube channel. (Not the American ABC news. This one is Australian Broadcasting Corporation.) They are really old and really fascinating to me. From the man on the street interviews about anything from whether women should be able to wear bikinis to whether there’s life on other planets to the video where a scientist predicts the moon can’t be walked on because it’s made of plasma. ABC called these strange videos RetroFocus. Below are some of my favorites.
Since my dad just posted about a poem of his that got published a little while back, I figured I’d make a slightly delayed post about one of my poems published this spring too. This poem has not only been published in South 85 (click here for proof), it’s going to be published in dad and I’s up and coming chapbook, Mapping the Valley. More about that and a recording of this poem coming soon!
by Micah James Bauman
Some of the patients had a few screws loose, which is not to say they were broken forever. They only required the right tools to put them back together.
A kind man came into the room each day for group therapy. He taught us how to use tools in the real world. He had a brilliant analogy for teaching us the tools:
“Think of a nail sticking out from a piece of wood. If you tried to use a wrench to pound in the nail that may not be the best choice. On the other hand,
a hammer’s claw, now that would serve you well. What kind of tools,” he asked, “do we have at our disposal?” The man in the cowboy hat,
the one who when asked about his goals for the day, had answered that he wanted to watch football, said he knew about tools. “I built a shed once.
We used a hammer to pound nails into the wood and put her together. We had to use a screwdriver to put on the hinges so the doors would swing.”
“Yeah, I got tools. Back home. Good tools, and I know how to use ‘em. I can’t wait to get back and build something new, something as beautiful as that shed.”