Not enough miles

Been working on gathering information and forms to renew my passport. Next year will be ten years that I’ve had one. An essential item to have if you travel internationally and easier (I think) to use if you have to endure flying domestically.

Like most, time and money have kept me from traveling as much as I want to. Except now that the pound has sunk to amazing lows, we can’t get over there to take advantage. When I first went to the UK in 2007, the pound was almost $2.00 to one. That was brutal. Now, thanks to the Brexit nonsense, it’s been at about $1.32, which is freaking unreal. Of course this is all going to change when the markets collapse next year, but that’s another story entirely.

Today my wife starts a new job. It’s a small miracle she got the interview but she worked really hard to get the position. Did it all by herself and I’m very proud of her.

Next week my son starts at a new school that specializes in special needs students. It’s scary and terrifying but we think it is going to be a better place for him in the long run. The change in routine will probably be an ordeal, but that should settle down in a few weeks.

Been trying to write. Got two rejections last week, and I accept them. If you’re not in the game you cannot complain about it. Which got me to thinking a bit about slam. Last weekend was the National Poetry Slam. I did not follow it. Have no idea who is on the team from Baltimore that won. Slam’s a game I have not been able to commit to for about three years. I also think I peaked out, have no added value to really offer and am just plain not good enough to really compete. That lack of commitment is on me. Some days I want to get back to it, others make me realize it’s good to let others have the playground.

A bit of acceptance.

Very happy to announce that my poem "The Onramp from I-70 East to 315 North" has been published by Red Fez in their latest issue.

It's good to be playing the publishing game this year. I know one more may be coming out soon, but I err on the side of caution and let it be known when the work is actually out there. Plus, a few more are in the hopper.

There have been rejections with the acceptances, but that's how it all works.

Now, about these form poems I'm writing in a 30 poems in 30 days of April group this year.

An April Road Trip.

National Poetry Month is in full gear and I'm proceeding at my own pace. There is writing being done, in a group even! We're working on form poems, some of them very challenging and unfamiliar to me. Writing them helps, and I'm seeing some good work by others, which is inspiring.

Been sending out poems too, trying to find them homes. They will be news about them soon, but not until the thing happens.

I'll be reading in Portsmouth, Ohio on Saturday April 9th with some of my fellow poets as part of a National Poetry Month Series that Zach Hannah has assembled with the generosity of Haskins House. If you're in the area it starts at 6:30.

Kicking basements

At this point in the home buying process, we're only looking at open houses. It's going to be months before we're serious in making a purchase. We still have to get this house ready for sale, or rental, or some form of both.

We've been looking in Westgate, an area close to our home, near a park, between two major roads. Still though, the west side of this city is neglected for stuff to do and I'm not sure how long it's going to take for things to develop. There's still no coffee shop here, it's ridiculous! More space and less yard is the ideal situation.

Today we looked in Merion/Hungarian Village, an area south of downtown and south of the prestigious German Village, which means the real estate is less expensive. One house was way out of our price range, the other two were interesting. One was already in contract. I suspect real estate sells there fast as it is becoming a more desirable area to live.

So at some point in the late spring of 2015 we'll start looking in earnest, at homes we're really interested in looking inside.

In other news, I got a rejection today. It's ok, have to do better. In my head it's that simple.

The sunny side of rejection

The past week has been a fever dream of writing. Three poems worked on, which is something that has not happened in some time. I'm not saying they're good poems, but the accomplishment is more important.

In addition, another poem I submitted for an online journal earlier this year was rejected. So yay, feeling like a writer for a moment.

Two things motivated me to write one yesterday. First, a story about some long forgotten about Buster Keaton photographs which have surfaced and will be available for viewing at this year's Damfino Convention in October.

Then this article about how the Library of Congress is trying to get silent film buffs to identify actors and other film details. Film restoration and preservation fascinates me. I know little about the process but that there are few, so few, dedicated people doing this gives me hope. The future of silent film interest, that worries me.

So I wrote this one.

Empty reels

Black and white flickers still,

more often than not in pixels

The eyes of the stars had power

Their medium delicate, flammable

thrown into dumpsters

stored in unforgiving dampness

or left to crumble by dust making furnaces

Most is lost

Seventy percent of what was silent

eight thousand nickelodeon

pleasure dome features

Even the magazines, posters, lobby cards

dedicated to them have long vanished

Three thousand survived

This history, this portrait of the entertainment

our grandparents

our great-grandparents

did to keep themselves whole

is a Murnau shadow on Netflix

A keystone cop of disorganization on youtube

Our first celluloid culture

is dying of thirst

through lack of quality streams

Through viewer indifference

Tight fisted studios greenlighting

another superhero reboot

while avoiding preservation of its investments

Maybe Marty will keep saving them

Maybe they’ll make a sequel to The Artist

But with no audience

the only interest will be the museum pieces

the eight reelers of major players

With no strength of a supporting cast

that is quickly irising out.