Last year, the Dogpatch *forced* Mike Allegra to draw the cutest salamander, named Sully, for Laurel’s poetry gig. What can we squeeze outta him this year? Hmmm? Go ahead, enter the competition. You know you want to….
Tag Archives: poetry
Got libations? Survival gear, including ibuprofen and rehydration tablets?
Ready. Set. Let it shake!!!!!
…900 authors from all over the San Francisco Bay Area, the U.S., and the world.
Friday marks the 15th anniversary of Litquake, the best literary festival on the Left Coast. Sell-out shows include “The Best of Craigslist,” where writers give dramatic readings of found literature culled from REAL posts on Craigslist. I’ve got tickets.
I’ll also be at “Drivel,” where some rather famous writers read some of their less-than-stellar prose.
Who could resist?
Interested in poetry? Try “A Flight of Poets” or maybe “Dark and Stormy: Contemporary Swedish Poetry.”
Adventure travel? “Into the Wilderness” or “Bicycle book tours,” depending on what your idea of adventure and travel really is.
Sci-fi? Try “Into Tomorrow.”
Something from the heart? Try “Tales of Love and Longing,” “Hot Flash Fiction,” or “Family Secrets.”
Something edgy? Try “Walk on the Wild Side.”
Need to feed you inner chef? Try “Sausages and Syrah.”
The opening night party on Friday, October 10, will be celebrated quinceañera-style. Think pink taffeta and a shot or two of tequila. Oh, and don’t forget your tiara.
On the last night, October 18, the world’s largest Lit Crawl commences, 101 events in three hours.
See you there!
Sonnet XCVIIIFrom you have I been absent in the spring, When proud-pied April, dressed in all his trim, Hath put a spirit of youth in everything, That heavy Saturn laughed and leaped with him. Yet nor the lays of birds, nor the sweet smell Of different flowers in odour and in hue, Could make me any summer’s story tell, Or from their proud lap pluck them where they grew: Nor did I wonder at the lily’s white, Nor praise the deep vermilion in the rose; They were but sweet, but figures of delight Drawn after you, – you pattern of all those. Yet seem’d it winter still, and, you away, As with your shadow I with these did play.
Sonnet XXILMy glass shall not persuade me I am old, So long as youth and thou are of one date; But when in thee time’s furrows I behold, Then look I death my days should expiate. For all that beauty that doth cover thee Is but the seemly raiment of my heart, Which in thy breast doth live, as thine in me: How can I, then, be elder than thou art? O, therefore, love, be of thyself so wary, As I, not for myself, but for thee will; Bearing thy heart, which I will keep so chary As tender nurse her babe from faring ill. Presume not on thy heart when mine is slain; Thou gav’st me mine, not to give back again.
Happy Birthday, Shakes!!!
If you click through on the link, you’ll find they’ve announced a Flash Fiction contest with an August 5th deadline. So submit if you’ve got something ready!
Oddly enough, Michael and I both worked at A Clean Well-Lighted Place for Books in San Francisco while I was earning my MFA.
Hi Dogpatchers! Song of the Siren just posted an interesting interview with poet, Michael Odom, author of the chapbook “Strutting, Attracting, Snapping.”
Quotes from the interview: “In art, the great goal is the beautiful, not the pretty: the beautiful is attractive in the sense that your 75-year-old spouse dying of colon cancer is attractive.”
“I think the half-worked conundrum of Feminism/ objectification/stalking mixed with Romeo waiting in the bushes outside Juliet’s window is the most existentially traumatic modern transition the West is trying and failing to make.”
Read the full interview here: