A History In Writing
Sometime in the Summer of 2001 I began using a writer’s notebook. Looking back it is interesting that I began to write then, considering the many ways my life would change that summer and thereafter.
Some of you have seen it, or one of the many. Another reason I always have a pen under my watchband. The function has evolved over the years from first being a place to story poetic ideas, to a journal, store house of quotes, observations of the world, sermon notes, biblical thoughts, philosophical musings, and a host of other things. Some turn into poems, some into songs, others just sit and wait for a moment like now.
I have just taken them out of their little storage space after beginning to jot things down in my newest one. Number 20. There are 19 sitting beside me right now, which I am about to go through, page by page. 8 years of doing this poeting thing, with a few anthologies and magazine/journal publications to my credit (another rolled in today), the odd award, and a pushcart nomination. Not to shabby I guess. But this current enterprise gives me pause.
This will not merely be a hunt for new, old inspiration, or a time to see how much my writing has changed, but something more. What I can’t tell yet. It is not often one gets a window to their own soul, through their own handwriting. This should prove interesting to say the least.
Edit/note: I will keep adding to the comments as I make my way through them.
“Old Man, if we had time to breathe, we’d choke on our own air.” ~ Rachel (TeenyBopper)
Many poems about Berea and the “charlie foxtrot” of relationship B.S. on the staff. I’ll remove the names to protect the guilty.
circa 2001
MEH said this on May 28th, 2008 at 3:45 pm
“It’s gotta be hard being the bastard.” ~ Professor Krejci-Papa; I only vaguely recall this being directed at something I said in class.
“There is no greater privilege than having someone share their story with you.” ~ Chaplin Mike Shutz
“You know why they play bagpipes at funerals right? Cause the guy can’t do anything about it.” ~ Kevin Doyle
Songs: Anna Begins - Counting Crows
The first draft of “Theotokos” (then called “theophoros”) was written. It is currently published by Relief Journal.
(Spring 02)
MEH said this on May 28th, 2008 at 4:06 pm
My first teaching experiences and creative writing class.
The first song I wrote and performed on the guitar — for them.
And a poem or two, like “for Carrie” (published by Andover-Newton Theological Seminar Press).
And their wisdom:
“The smartest people are the dumbest people at love.” K. Boutin.
“He’s the bomb teacher yo. I failed his class, but that was my fault.” Overheard by T. Madonna
Oh yeah, and I was a youth pastor at some point during all this.
My motto: “I teach English between crisis.”
(02-03 school year.)
MEH said this on May 28th, 2008 at 4:24 pm
Poetic snatches:
“with a voice that inspires 12 percocets”
“like hitting the devil’s lottery.”
“you know your life sucks ass
when you have to sit through
2 hours of [a] cracker in blackface.”
“brushfires of insecurity”
“i’ll be missed
but not by you
and it smiles my heart.”
“but i’m only suicidal while driving”
I also wrote “3 Conversations with White Girls,” “Kenosis,” and “perspective,” at some point in here. (Published by Word Is Bond, Relief, and Communique Journal)
Apparently I was bitter living in New Hampshire. Go figure. (03)
MEH said this on May 28th, 2008 at 4:43 pm
time well spent
perhaps
but i won’t call it that
mostly i’ll (most likely) remember
pain
as pictures fall (fade)
and phones remain silent
a week will pass before
she knows i’m gone
but i’ll already be miles away
in my heart
now i need
to re-live lives ill spent
whispering of witches and weakness
of watches and the wilderness
now i’ll think of
the days ahead
(there are so many different things this could be about, and I won’t even try to figure it out, or rewrite it so it sucks less. circa 03 or 04)
MEH said this on May 28th, 2008 at 6:03 pm
~ White people are racist as hell.
~ Cain got a damn bad rap.
~ People cried a lot in the Old Test.
~ Jesus did some cool shit
~ Obsession with equity and compassion
And:
It is good that one should hope and wait quietly
For the salvation of the LORD.
It is good for a man to bear
The yoke in his youth.
Let him sit alone and keep silent,
Because God has laid it on him;
Let him put his mouth in the dust—
There may yet be hope.
Let him give his cheek to the one who strikes him,
And be full of reproach.
For the Lord will not cast off forever.
Though He causes grief,
Yet He will show compassion
According to the multitude of His mercies.
Lamentations 3:26-32
(Spring 04)
MEH said this on May 28th, 2008 at 6:15 pm
~ Moving to Denver
~ Missing Home
~ DCC (Gary, Anne, Beth, Frank, Small group, et al)
Losing Poetry and finding Music (Over the Hills and Upon the Mountains)
Starting to figure out what being a writer might mean to me, all the while not actually writing anything.
Evolution of journal into a notebook of biblical thoughts and song lyrics.
Interesting shift towards Jesus, the Gospels, the least of these, and the church (for good or bad)
“Qui n’a plus qu’un moment a vivre n’a plus rien a dissimuler” ~ Phillip Quinault
MEH said this on May 29th, 2008 at 5:00 pm
Poetic snatches:
“there is two sides to every broken promise
peaces which will never fit: to gather
again the impossible shards of silence”
“hidden behind flecks of blue and steel grey
is a slight shifting of saline: a breath held
within the almost angry tremor of a pupil’s pulse”
“maybe Jesus was having an off day”
“pretension hidden in the garb of piety
is an ill fit: a wolf simply
looks silly in a woolen suit”
“start the five second delay
i’m about to speak my mind again”
“i fear a life read like the bible
of a lapsed catholic: a dust covered
support to an uneven shelf, a seasonally
revered token of uncertainty”
still working on the full poem)
(Spring 06)
MEH said this on June 1st, 2008 at 2:10 am
Counseling
“Even the best of warriors can grow so fond of his deeds that he begins to think he is as large as he wishes to be. But he is not.” ~ Norman Mailer
Poetry:
“Incarnation” was drafted. On it’s first spin for a publication nod, it was picked up, 2 years later. The original subtitle was “a poem for my father’s heart attack.” No, he didn’t have one, but reading the original draft, it would have given him one. Something about Jesus being in a smokey bar, with a big chested waitress spilling beer . . . yeah.
“correct change” . . .
“History by proxy” . . .
“Devotions” . . .
Listen:
i’ve got shit to do,
so either turn off the damn
recriminations
or start the 5 second de-
lay before i speak my mind.
(a Japanese Tanka)
Music:
Eyes Wide Shut:
http://www.greyparty.net/audio/Eyes.mp3
Turn On
http://www.greyparty.net/audio/Turn%20On.
Gone
http://www.greyparty.net/audio/Gone.mp3
Nuff said about the summer of 06
MEH said this on June 2nd, 2008 at 1:46 am
Trailhead
Jolene (again)
God (again)
MFA
School (tenure/fighting)
He hath shewed thee, o man, what is good; and what doth the Lord require of thee, but to do justly, love mercy, and to walk humbly with thy God? ~ Micah 6:8
All that need be said of 07
MEH said this on June 3rd, 2008 at 4:16 am