November 9: No New Poem, New DVD Player, Pledge

I am sorry to report that I have no new poem today.  I have not had any time to sit down, let alone pick up a pen and write anything.  I have put up Christmas decorations.  I have cleaned my house.  I have taken my daughter to a doctor's appointment.  I have eaten some of my children's Halloween candy.  I have installed a new DVD player on my entertainment system, which consists of a flat screen TV, a VCR that my son broke almost two years ago, and a Wii game that hasn't been used for almost six months.

My old DVD player died last Sunday.  I spent three hours Sunday night trying to get it to play A Charlie Brown Christmas.  I never got it working.  So today, while I was grocery shopping at Wal-Mart.  I found a DVD player on sale for $24.  I couldn't believe it.  I threw the player in my grocery cart, along with some milk and Holly Nog, and proceeded to the checkout line.  Now, I am watching a documentary about Anne Lamott on my new DVD player at ten o'clock at night, feeling guilty that I haven't finished my new poem.

I am going to make a pledge that I will post a new poem tomorrow night.  I will probably break that pledge, but, tonight, it lets me off the hook.

Saint Marty was able to get his new DVD player to work.  That's a victory.  Tomorrow is another day.  Another 24 hours to fail as a poet.

Another pledge I will probably break tomorrow

September 23: About that poem...

Yeah, about that poem I promised to post today...Ummmmmmm...I gues what I'm trying to say is...I spent my poetry time sort of...Well...I put together a book manuscript for a poetry contest, and I...kind of...

Okay!  I'll admit it!  I didn't get a new poem written today.  I'll work on it tonight and have it for you tomorrow.  Okay?  Okay.

Saint Marty's glad to have that off his chest.
 

Confession's good for the soul

 

September 16: Poem on the Way, Reading Weekend

I know I said I was going to work on a new poem.  I am.  I will have it posted tomorrow afternoon/evening.  I started writing it this morning, but I couldn't get anything to really work for me.  So I scrapped the couple pages I've written.  I started writing a new poem about an hour os so ago.  I like what's coming out now.

Pretty much, I'm going to be spending my weekend reading for the classes I'm teaching.  I have to finish one book, get some notes taken on another.  It should be fairly simple stuff, but it will be time-consuming.  That I know.  It's only Friday, and the next couple of days are already claimed.  Somehow, I also have to look at some poetry submissions for the literary magazine I help edit, Passages North.  I don't know when I'm going to be able to do that.  I was thinking Saturday afternoon, but my daughter has a dance class at 2 p.m.  That pretty much takes care of tomorrow.

Saint Marty's weekend begins.  So it goes.

September 6: School, Date Night, Poetry

I'll have my disciples know that I'm typing this post while I'm on a date with my wife.  Tuesday is our usual date night, and (since money is tight and I've been having computer issues) she agreed to let me get caught up on my blogging.  We did have some Asian take-out for dinner, so it hasn't been all about Saint Marty.

My daughter's first day of school was "awesome" (her words, not mine).  She got on the bus this morning at 7:25 a.m. without a hitch.  She found out several of her friends are riding the bus, as well, so I don't have to worry about her being the kid in the backseat that everyone ignores.  After I walked her to the bus stop, I went home and made her some oatmeal butterscotch cookies.  They're her favorite, and I've made them for her on each of her first days of school since kindergarten.  By the time I got home from teaching at the college this evening, she'd eaten almost all of them.

I do have a new poem I'm working on, but it is not finished yet.  I find myself in the position right now of letting other obligations take priority over my poetry.  I have to stop letting that happen.  Two new poems a week is my goal, and I'm going to strive to meet it.  Therefore, expect a new poem tomorrow.  I'm not promising it will be a good poem, but I will post a poem.

I'm not looking forward to getting back to work tomorrow morning after this extended weekend break.  It's going to be T-U-F-F.  That's right, I said "Tuff" with a capital "T."

Saint Marty is going to need massive Mountain Dew tomorrow.

I'll be at the bottom, if you're looking for me!

September 2: Just Let It Rain

It's been looking like rain all day today.  It sprinkled a little on my way home from work, but nothing appreciable.  I spent the afternoon cleaning my house, and now I just managed to piss off my daughter, which isn't very difficult considering she's ten years old and hormonal all the time.

I don't have a whole lot more to report.  I didn't get a chance to work on a new poem.  I didn't heal a leper, raise anyone from the dead, or feed a crowd of six thousand people with a can of Chef Boyardee ravioli.  As a prospective saint, I was pretty much a dud today.

Saint Marty will try harder tomorrow.

It says on the label it feeds 6,000

August 30: No New Poem, A Challenge, Dick Cheney

My good friend, Wonder Twin, the only entrant in my last contest, is convinced she is going to be the only entrant in my current contest.  I need somebody to prove her wrong.  Think of this:  if I could get two more people to enter "Name the Poem," that will mean I have increased my response rate by 100%.  That's all I need.  Two more stinking entries.  I'm trying not to whine.  Don't make me whine.  It won't be pretty.

I did not get a new poem written today.  I found myself consumed with other work.  I will start writing a new poem for tomorrow when I get home tonight.  I'm not going to fall into the trap of letting myself turn into a full-time employee/sometime poet.  I will continue to make poetry a priority in my life.  Somebody in this world has to do it.

I saw Dick Cheney on the Today show this morning.  He was hawking his new book, talking with Matt Lauer.  Usually, I try to stay politically neutral on my blog.  (I try.  I don't always succeed.)  However, I thought, when Cheney was wheeled onto his plane and left Washington D. C. three years ago, I wouldn't have to listen to him blather on about how he's saved the entire free world from terrorism single-handedly.  When he was President, excuse me, Vice President, he had power and was dangerous.  Now, when he has a terminal heart condition and is one battery away from death, he's just a egotistical bigmouth who can't stand being out of the spotlight.  (This is beginning to sound like a Dennis Miller rant.)  Dick Cheney just needs to hop on Trigger and ride into the sunset.  Go hunting and shoot some more of his friends.  Do anything but be on TV and irritate me.

Saint Marty is done now.  He just needed to get that off his chest.

Somebody pull the plug!

August 25: No New Poem, Almost Done, "Mockingjay"

First, I have to apologize.  I promised a new poem for today.  I didn't get it done.  I sort of got wrapped-up in my reading of Mockingjay.  No, I didn't get the book finished, either, probably won't before tonight's Book Club meeting.  However, I'm far enough into it to speak about it intelligently.  As my daughter says when she's trying to get out of doing something, I promise to have a poem for you tomorrow.

I'm very happy with the fact that I'm almost done with the entire Hunger Games trilogy.  As many of you may know, I've had a hard time reading and finishing anything for quite a few months.  Even if it is a young adult series, I've actually read it, which is more than I can say for quite a few books I've started recently.

I am looking forward to the meeting tonight.  Book Club night is one of my favorite nights of the month, even when I don't have the book finished.  I enjoy the people.  I enjoy the food.  I enjoy the conversation.  I know that most of the people coming tonight have actually read the entire novel, which is amazing.  And I know that almost every member of the club is going to be there tonight.  When I look back, I can't believe that this little Book Club I started over six or seven years ago is still going strong.  Yes, we've lost members.  Yes, some months we've only had two or three people in attendance (including myself and my wife).  But we're still going strong.

I just got a phone call from my sister who usually babysits my son on Book Club night.  She completely forgot about it.  She asked me what I was planning to do with my son.  I said, "I guess I'll just put him to bed."  My sister has a really uncanny ability to make me feel guilty without saying a word.  If she actually shows up tonight to watch my son, I'm going to feel like I owe her a kidney.  It's the same every month.

Just one of Saint Marty's crosses to bear, along with salad and Nicholas Sparks.

Hmmm, what do you think of the social satire of this novel?