working my way through the alphabet
March 31, 2008
I just found out one of my poems was accepted for Juked. I’m pretty stoked.
I’m going to start writing real posts again at some point, not just these “I got published” quickies.
my american sentences
March 20, 2008
Beyond the cherry trees, a wet Bank of America parking lot.
there will be blood
March 20, 2008
My poem is up at Blood Orange Review, along with work by the following authors:
Sarah Bonifacio
Michael Estabrook
Cynthia J. Hollenbeck
Rebekah Judson
Sarah J. Sloat
John Thomas
Bryan Fry
boxcar poetry review
March 16, 2008
My poem is up at Boxcar Poetry Review, along with poetry by the following authors:
Jeffrey Alfier
Tricia Asklar
J. Mae Barizo
Margaret Bashaar
Steven Brow
Kit Frick
Christina Kallery
Matthew Olzmann
Julie Marie Wade
Joe Wilkins
it is confirmed
March 14, 2008
I have officially moved into the hypothyroid phase of my thyroiditis illness. This means I am healing, even if I am healing very slowly.
-thyroid
March 8, 2008
I seem to be moving from the hyperthyroid phase of my illness to the hypothyroid phase, as evidenced by my rapid weight gain, changes in appetite, changes in sleeping patterns and lack of hair loss. This phase can last for nearly a year and a half, but I am hoping it doesn’t go on nearly that long.
To pass the time, I’ve been putting together a puzzle. Usually, I am very good at puzzles, but this one is a bitch. Most of the pieces are black or some variant of black — greenish black, reddish black, bluish black. It’s utterly depressing, which is not what I need right now.
Every time I sit down at the puzzle, I can’t help but giggle. My mother and I used to work puzzles together from time to time. She was usually pretty drunk, and she would try to fit pieces together that so obviously didn’t go together, then she would insist they were a match. I don’t know why I find this thought funny, but I do. We have to find our humor somewhere, and I find mine in thinking about my strange, abusive, alcoholic family.
Every day, it’s more springlike in these parts, and so far I’ve only been able to enjoy the weather by opening all the windows and letting the sun in. I hope to feel well enough to go outside soon. I believe the presence of the sun has helped me tremendously the past couple of weeks, and I’d like to have the chance to actually feel it on my skin.
At least I am able to prop myself up at my computer and do a little bit of writing. I didn’t write at all for two months, and I got sort of scared that I’d never write again. But I am fighting my way back to it, determined not to let it go.
imitation poem #1
March 7, 2008
I am trying to get back to writing poetry, which I haven’t done since I became ill with subacute thyroiditis. I’ve decided to get into the swing of things by writing some imitation poems. Here’s my first one, after “We Manage Most When We Manage Small,” by Linda Gregg.
* * *
We know most when we know nothing
— after Linda Gregg
What things are lost? Not the trees.
Not the small shells we’ve gathered and displayed
on our bookshelves, which call to the ocean every day.
The winds are not lost as we are.
Worn bottle fragments experience our hands.
But not like our bodies experience one another.
Apologetic and shy, we stutter.
Wanting satiety and longing all at once
and what that means. Nothing holds us here
yet we stay. Nothing remembers what we have been
to each other. We pause, stop sometimes
at this realization, as the wind blows,
as the ground swells with spring.
As we untangle what we are, alone and together.
Perched on a future we cannot know. What these bodies
resist. Our fingers quiver like wings.
still down for the count, but …
March 4, 2008
… I am popping in to toot my own horn. I got word yesterday that one of my poems has been accepted for Blood Orange Review. w00t!
This is my blog wherein I, Dana Guthrie Martin, write things and stuff. Most of the time, writing and I hobble along in a sort of three-legged race where there is no finish line. (more...)
Everything turns away / Quite leisurely from the disaster. — W.H. Auden
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beg, borrow, but don't steal
This work is licensed under Creative Commons. If you don’t credit Dana (by using her full name and preferably by linking back to the appropriate post) for however you copy, distribute, transmit or adapt her words, you are being bad. And naughty. And she will have her servant monkeys hunt you down and cut your hands off so you can never copy, distribute, transmit or adapt anyone’s work again and call it your own.
(Unless, of course, you were to use your butt cheeks to manipulate your keyboard with the copying, distributing, transmitting, adapting and whatnot, but Dana fortunately has only met one person whose butt cheeks are that talented. He could play a major third on a piano using nothing but his ass. She kids you not.).
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flick, flick, flick
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i cannot be bought
