One Stop Spotlight - Adam White

I think most of you have already met poet Adam White somewhere along the One Stop trail, where he shares his excellent poetry every week.

Adam has a strong voice and I very much enjoy his honesty and straight forwardness (not only in his writing) but his variety when it comes to approaching different poetic styles.

Adam is about to move from England to Canada and I want to say a special thanks that he found the time to write a bit about his background, how he came to write, and what inspires his poetry.

You can read more of Adam's work on his blog "Poetry by Adam White" and you can also find him on Twitter @adamwhitepoet.

~ Claudia

His Hands

His hands are steady, workers hands,
They work a dark workers task,
Twisting lives with thread and needle,

And souls infused in cloth and glass.
Forming perfect feminine shape
Sweetly curved and lovingly made,
With naive minds unused to life,
Innocent, untouched and afraid.

With their feet, their delicate flesh
As soft as softest, bone white silk,
They wake unknowing in the dark
Skin shining bright like moonlit milk.
Hearts of glass rest in breathless breasts
And no breath will pass their painted lips
And eyes like stars freshly cast
Guide ships in to their careful kiss.

He made one most desirable

Of all his pretty maiden dolls.
Kairi. Her name was Kairi and
She had the most shining of souls.
She was kind and sweet and caring
And giving with her lover's heart.
Her beauty left perfection spent,
Surroundings rendered empty, dark.

All able men craved her presence
Wanted, not the word for her.
Craving the most common of sights,
Her smile raised and so deftly turned
They would promise no disservice
To the beauty of his great craft,
But on this day, his love was money
And where there's money, there's a man.

He was a lord, a libertine,
A hedonist both crass and cruel,
A violent and heartless creature,
A drunkard and a proven fool
His fists played harsh on her beauty
From the first night she spent enslaved
Her suffering was so lasting
That one cold night, she ran away,

Her stitches split, stuffing scattered

Kairi dashed through dark and winding streets
Far from the pain her master gave
With clubbing hate and cloying heat.
She ran back to her great maker,
Through a bleak and telling storm,
To fall at his door and scream for love,
And sanity and for warmth.

His hands, his steady workers hands
That night they pulled at golden seams

They tore at cloth and snapped strong thread
Despite her cries and dying screams.
He ripped her perfect form apart
And smashed her eyes of starry glass
And started work on replacing her
With his hands, his steady hands.

(Copyright Adam White)

Background:

I was born and raised in Birmingham, England and (other than a year or so in Northampton, which is just as bad) I've spent all my life here. Anyone who has visited will know it's a horrid place and I am a product of that. That said, I've been blessed with knowing some wonderful people and come from a very loving family, so that has made the whole terrible situation much more bearable.

How I Came to Write:

I started writing when I was 16 (11 years ago, woof,) after some particularly traumatic events, at the suggestion of a man much more intelligent than myself. I'd lost somebody I was close to and it pushed me over the edge. That edge was self constructed of course, me being a 16 year old lad, raging with hormones, confusion, and a fair share of mental health issues which I'd hidden from everyone instead of doing the smart thing and seeking help. By the time I'd reached the tipping point, it was a little too late to reconcile my problems in an easier way so I spent a fair few years writing as a form of therapy.

It was all awful. I had no idea of form or structure or anything like that. I just scribbled hard words and, for the most part, that writing is very grim and not fit for human consumption. Take the normal teen angst poetry and combine that with a healthy dose of fantastical insanity and you're just about there. I still write this poetry and, hopefully, this part of my writing will never be read by anybody but me.

The more normal writing (if you can call it that) is the stuff I started writing for pleasure and makes up the bulk of the poetry I post on my blog. At first, the writing may have been a coping mechanism, but as I wrote more and more, I started to enjoy it. The story telling aspect of poetry is the part I love the most and, browsing through my site, you'll come across an awful lot of narrative driven verse about heroes and villains, lovers or suffering innocents.

This urge to share is a recent thing. I once ran a poetry group through the old msn communities but was never as serious about having my work seen as I am now. I set up my blog at the end of September 2010 and have been flabbergasted (great word) by the reaction. I am genuinely surprised by the amount of traffic my blog receives and all the positive feedback I've received, much of it from all the wonderful poets I've met through Twitter, Facebook, and especially One Stop Poetry. The hard work the guys here have put in to building a poetry community and promoting the up and comers is fantastic.

Inspiration:



I love all poetry but I do have a bit of a bone to pick. I read and study a lot but I have tried to look at the medium from an objective standpoint. I've noticed that I read much of it and feel sad that, as an art form, it has become increasingly abstract and elitist, especially here in England. This is by no means a modern problem (read Milton and his self referential nonsense) but it seems like to become part of the establishment nowadays you have to write about things that only intelligentsia and other poets are going to understand. This means that the majority of people find the work unintelligible. I genuinely hate this and, while in my more private work, I do write a lot (a LOT) of this kind of stuff myself, I will only post the accessible poetry on my own blog. I want anybody to be able to read and enjoy poetry. All they should have to be able to do is read. Maybe part of it comes from how poetry is taught in schools here (badly) but the trend for referential writing isn't doing the medium any favours.

I chose to share the poem "His Hands" with you because I think it's very indicative of my narrative work. Also because it hasn't been looked at a lot by people and it's one of my favourites of my recent output. As a reader of poetry, it satisfies me and that's honestly all I look for. I am a simple creature.

In the next few days, I'm going to embark on my next big adventure. I'm moving to Montreal in Canada (one of my favourite places in the world) to start my new life with my frankly wonderful partner. What will follow is a long period of writing freedom for me, so you can expect an increased volume of writing. I will be working on my epic poem, Udulo's Wars, a few screenplays and bringing my novel up to scratch. Bits and pieces from all of these will be popping up on my blog so look out for that. My work will keep popping up on One Shot Wednesdays and One Shoot Sundays too so keep your eye out for me and add me on Twitter @AdamWhitePoet.

Photo credits:
Creative Commons, Andreas Levers, Jonathan Khoo
http://www.flickr.com/photos/96dpi/2564208064
http://www.flickr.com/photos/jonk/3052458912

One Stop Spotlight - Gerald Barret aka Jerry

Your sure would agree that there are many interesting, talented and highly likable people around in the blogworld. "Very likable" was the first thought that jumped to my mind when I met Jerry through One Shot Wednesday a few weeks ago.
I would describe his poetry as fresh and unconventional and you can clearly hear his heart beat when reading his words.

He approaches everyday happenings with a twinkling eye and in a healthy down to earth style.
Jerry is a people person - you can sense this in his writing and commenting - he easily connects to others and I'm sure many of you, who have met him somewhere on the One Stop trail will agree.

Jerry blogs at "Under the doorframe" and today he allows us a glimpse into his busy life, tells us about his big family, how he came to write poetry and what inspires him - enjoy

~ Claudia


Fall

The other night the wind and the rain
slapped a lot of beauty out of their canopies.
The rain fell on the leaves,
the leaves fell like rain.
The colors lay dead.
I tried to rally my kids to pick them up.
I gave them Elmer’s glue and a stapler.
I had a few ladders too.
The suns out now and how much
I wanted to see the colors against
a cool blue sky instead of faded green
and asphalt and gravel.
I almost prayed for the resurrection
of these expired tree totalers.
But then my kids dropped the glue
and staples and the disbelief
their faces were showing me.
They ran for rakes.
Their faces flush with autumn air
they piled up the colors on the runway.
They carelessly overlaid color on color,
like when they were much younger with crayons.
Their excitement rose as did the pile.
Then I saw the clear blue sky in their eyes
as they lay laughing in the colors.
I smiled as their redemptive act
fell on me like cool rain in the night.

(copyright gerald barret 2011)

A little background:

I grew up in Michigan as number 8 out of 10 children. My mom pretty much raised us on her own, which is a long story worth writing about sometime. I'll be married to my wife 25 years February 16th.  She also hails from a large family.  If memory serves me she is number 10 out of 12 children. We have 4 biological children and 8 adopted (2 sibling groups of 4). I am a UPS delivery driver of almost 25 years. No need to say my writing is in the cracks of audible words and busy real life experiences.

Sometimes I'll say to people that I have been in a mid-life crisis for 30 years...and writing became a cathartic resting place between depressive dips and turns. When I came to faith the particular vein of the Christian church I was a part of thought of art and creativity as non essential.  If it wasn't utilitarian I set it aside. So most of my writing was journaling in the beginning...a private affair.

Then about 15 years ago a music minister in the church I was attending intergrated a Luci Shaw poem into the worship service. It about sliced my heart in two. It was as if I was given permission, freedom to create and drop the utility knife that kept shaving off a good portion of who I was. (The poem, by the way, is Spring Song, Very Early Morning which is found in her book The Green Earth)

Then I started writing and sharing with family occasionally (The most gracious audience. :)) Then after attending 3 Festival of Faith and Writing conferences at Calvin College in Grand Rapids, Michigan I was informed I needed a platform for my writing.  I didn't know what a platform was and I thought maybe it was nessessary in case I needed to jump.  Anyway I started a blog last spring and started a new one (underthedoorframe.blogspot.com) when I read L.L.Barket's interview in Christianity Today.

I like writing in other genres like memoir and essay and am chipping away at a short story. But poetry is my first love. I think maybe because I can finish poems within those cracks in my life. I used to think of it as the lazy writer's "out" because of its commitment level.  What a self deception. It is a craft that is intense, all consuming at times especially when a word or a line or an image pops up and the knee jerk reaction is to drop everything and find a keyboard or a pen and napkin.  Sometimes I drive and deliver with a sentence in my head and I repeat it aloud throughout my work day so I can deliver it to the keyboard that evening or next early morning. Early morning is the largest crack in which I write before the first child stands next to me with a "good morning" or a request.    

You will find that much of my poetry is about people. Of late a few more have risen about my mother who is getting on in years. I love to write about overt and covert spiritual experience. Sometimes I think maybe I should start another blog with a mainly overt Christian experience. Yet for now this network provides a wide range of personal and spiritual experience which I feel better represents the world out there...don't you think?

I chose to share the poem "Fall" because it is layered with depth and humor and transcendence which I feel is representitive of the spectrum of my poetry. Some of the influences of poetry have been of course Luci Shaw, Wendell Berry, and a dash of Billy Collins and now many One Stop additions.

Around our house humor is very needful. You know, as they say if you don't laugh you cry. Having adopted children really made the pain of our world more poingnant and sensory. We heard stories but until the stories came to stay in our home they were just stories. My brother once told me that proximity is everything. There are plenty of sad stories from which to harvest poems.
I am a little leary of writing about my children, especially the adopted ones and their fractured souls. I think in time more of these will surface on my blog as wisdom serves. 

Entering this network through High Calling Blogs and One Stop has been a stretching experience and it is fantastic to listen with those who share this passion, and sometimes compulsion, to mess with words.  I used to think that there was no point to write...there were already enough pages to turn, turn, turn and yet... We all have something to offer through our individual filters with which we see the world and if our calling is to write then write we must, and somewhere down the line there are people whose filters allow our words to penetrate their souls, sometimes right down to their very spirit where words dissolve to graft into their being.
I bet you the core of any poet's desire is to have their words settle into places such as these. I know mine is, why just today my wife told me that my poem today is her favorite...she has said that before and I hope she will say those words again.

One Stop Spotlight - George Pappas aka GPWriter

George Pappas is a poet, novelist and a life long resident of Southern California. He blogs at Backyard Poetry and can also be found on Twitter @gpwriter. I have met him through One Shot Wednesday. What I like is his honesty and the courage to touch "hot potatoes" with his poems.

George often chooses social, critical or political themes for his poetry and always provides an introduction about how he came to write these. I asked him about this and he answered that he doesn't try to explain the poem in a literal sense. He prefers to explain his motivations for the poem, giving the reader more insight into his creative process. He views the intro as a part of the poem in a sense.

George thinks that Blog Poems should be a multi media experience for the reader and his certainly are! I can highly recommend paying him a visit over at Backyard Poetry

So please sit back and enjoy what George has to share about himself and his motivation, which led to writing this excellent poem he has chosen for One Stop Poetry today

~ Claudia

Since I started writing poetry while a student at California State Long Beach in the 1980s, I strived to create poems that were provocative, and challenge the statusquo in society, politics and life. I feel it is the role of a poet to cover all aspects of living, including writing about controversial ,political ,and religious themes; issues that,unfortunately, many poets avoid. I strive to do this in different and unique ways.  It could be imagining a tourist ad for a tour of Guantanamo Bay detention camp as in my poem “Guantanamo Bay Tour,” or as in my poem “Ethnic Cleansing” musing about an ad campaign for such practices with the tagline: “Bought and sold wherever intolerance is found.”

One poetry class I took in college, which was taught by noted poet Elliot Fried, really had a lasting impact on me. Professor Fried encouraged us to look for poetry everywhere and in everything around us and to think differently about what could be a subject for a poem. He would give us an assignments where we would have to create poems off the page using video, pictures or images.

My following poem “Would the Crucifixion Have Been Televised?” is one such example of  looking for an off beat way to address the troubling state of the TV news business.

I was frustrated and tired with weeks of coverage about the death of JFK Jr.  Each year, it seems, the national press, especially the cable and TV networks, become increasingly myopic in their coverage. This is truly reflected during major news events.  They feature 24/7 coverage of one event or controversy relentlessly covering every angle. Sometimes that is justified as with 9/11, the Iraq war, or JFK’s assassination other times it is questionable as following the death of Pope John Paul and other overblown stories. It is overkill to say the least.

It got me to thinking about how other  historic events such as the Crucifixion might be covered by our modern news industry.

That led to this poem

GP

***

WOULD THE CRUCIFIXION HAVE BEEN TELEVISED?

I wonder if the crucifixion
took place today
would it be televised
non-stop?

Would the plethora of TV cable channels
cover every aspect
of the death
of Christ
on the cross?

Imagine
a press briefing
with Roman officials
explaining their actions.

Think of
profiles on the apostles,
in-depth interviews
with Jesus’ followers
and an exclusive interview
with Judas entitled:
“Why he betrayed Christ: Judas defends himself.”

Ponder the exclusive reports
with those who claim to have witnessed God’s miracles,
including a shocking profile on the blind man
who claims Christ restored his sight.

Or a story on a follower who says to have heard Jesus’ last words
or yet another who saw Jesus walk on water
or still another who witnessed Christ’s resurrection.

That would be followed by
an exclusive feature
on Mary discussing the Immaculate Conception.

This tabloid TV culture
without a doubt would turn the
the Crucifixion
into huge ratings.

All meaning ultimately
lost in the torrent of coverage
nailed relentlessly into
our empty souls and lurid imaginations.

George Pappas
Copyright 2010

One Stop Spotlight - Joy Ann Jones aka hedgewitch

It is my pleasure to introduce a poet I've come to appreciate during the last weeks for her writing and also her eloquent and sensitive commenting on other people's work.

Joy Ann blogs as Hedgewitch at Verse escape and her poems often have an epic and a bit of a "Lord of the Rings" feeling clinging to them, mingled with a dash of ancient mysteries. You may discover some of this in Joy Ann's poem "My New Dragon" below.

Enjoy the reading and make sure to pay her a visit over at Verse escape..

~ Claudia


My New Dragon

Flies above the forest
His spine a swift reticulated run
Of cloud croquet hoops,
His breath the flinty white
Of ashen cinders in the grate,
Flaring back behind him like a banner
Of all that overcomes.

                                             My New Dragon

Fought the old all summer long,
All winter in a haze of snow and fire,
Til victory was made in blurry battles
High where eyes of mortal could not peer
And now he mounts his watch above
In case his rival someday
Comes back home.

His head is turned to follow
The disappearing backside of his foe.
His three-horned crest stands tall
And watchful, full
Of secret raptor pleasures
Bone bred in dragonkind.
Though rain patters grey
turning blue as it falls
like steel on the scales of

                                            My New Dragon’s  

skin, his heart is light
And on his broad back of clouds and vapor
I go riding.

© Joy Ann Jones, November 2010

Mirror

The soul within / smooth, reflective curve
Glossy with the sheen of old smokes
Something about the light, he said
There is a wild piece of it in the dark.
It winks in the corner of the mirror,
An absent flame / the memory of a flame
Whiskered by the haze,
Reaching out to touch it you feel
First the illusion, then the fingertips finally
The smooth cold feel of the mirror
Asking which is real.

Perhaps it’s over, the light show,
The flowers powerless against the machine.
Only a curve reflecting forward
Some piece of light
To kindle the back ward glancing eye

© Joy Ann Jones, January 1988

I asked Joy Ann to share a bit about herself and her writing...

First of all, I’m very flattered to be here at One Stop Poetry, a place I consider one of the best networking sites for poets and writers on the web. The talent on display here from week to week is astonishing, and it’s a pleasure and honor to be a part of it even in a small way.

I first came to love poetry at the age of eight when I found a volume of classic poetry included in my Childcraft encyclopedia set. In a turbulent childhood, that volume was my refuge, and I read and reread poems like The Highwayman, and La Belle Dame Sans Merci til I knew them by heart. That’s when I discovered that mere words expressed in certain ways were able to create a living world of the imagination that is far more attractive and often seems more real than the mundane one we inhabit. That empowering and intoxicating combination of control and creation is what continues to make me write poetry.

In high school, I was fortunate to have a great Creative Writing teacher who took a personal interest in motivating young writers, and as her student I even won fourth place in a national competition (Atlantic Monthly) which at the time was quite heady stuff. After that, however, life intervened, and my poetry was strictly something that came pouring out when it had to, and the rest of the time was pushed aside. It’s only recently that I’ve had the resources and leisure to get back to writing. Always, though, at the hardest crossroads and in the most painful situations of my life, it was there for me, and is still the way I work through all the inarticulate forces that challenge us to the max, and of which life never seems to run out.

The writing process itself for me starts with an emotion, or a tag line in my mind that has to be written down. I jot sentences, phrases and paragraphs down as they come to me, and occasionally I get a whole poem that way. Usually, though, the lines have to be worked with, written, paired with others, and rewritten. Then I often let the poem ‘steep,’ and come back for a final microscopic go at it word for word and line by line. I often enjoy the process as much as I do the end product.

...and I was curious about how Joy Ann reads other people's works and if there is a structure when she comments, how she looks at a poem from different angles or compares with something she knows or has learned...

One of the best things about blogging poetry is that you get to see so much creativity and so many different ways of writing. When I comment at a poet’s site, I feel there are two things that are important, respect and connection. It takes courage to post your work out where everyone can see it and leave yourself open to the reactions of total strangers. Also, fundamentally all art is, at its most basic level, a giving back. I feel you have to respect that. Then, I think if someone’s work has said something to you, made you think, provoked an emotional response, or engaged you at all, it’s important to try to show the poet how s/he did that, just why that piece worked. So I try to do that when I comment, sometimes through drawing in a personal reference, or by comparison. Mostly, I want to pass on some of that encouragement I got as an adolescent when it meant so much, and share the enjoyment that poetry gives me with everyone who experiences it.

One Shoot Photography Sunday: Interview with photographer Claudio Mufarrege (& Picture Prompt Challenge)

One Shoot Photography Sunday!

Claudio Mufarrege

This week I would like to introduce all of you to Claudio Mufarrege, a relatively recent addition to the photography world. Though he describes himself as an “amateur,” one need only peruse Mufarrege’s Flickr to see that he already has a wealth of beautiful shots under his belt.

This Argentinian photographer is a man of many talents, as well as many jobs. In addition to his photography, Mufarrege is a husband, a father, a manager for a Scania Trucks Dealer, and the editor of his own little gem of a site: The Imag-e-ination Daily, a media site that stretches across both news and photography boundaries. He’s also a technological enthusiast – a trait that’s contributed to his skill with photomontages and photocomposition, thanks to his programming skill.

Tytyri Finland

Claudio considers the internet “a medium to learn,” and true to that estimation, he’s found himself in many places across the web, including Twitter (@claudioar), Flickr, and his own site, the Image-i-nation Daily.  I, Chris Galford, invite you to meet Mr. Mufarrege, and enjoy some of his insights and his work:

The Long Goodbye - Photomanipulation

*One Stop Poetry's Chris G. conducted the following interview:

What originally sparked your interest in photography? How long have you been at it?

Claudio: When I was 5 my father buy a Kodak Instamatic 125. This was "the family's camera" for more than 30 years! I never had the chance of take a photo with it, just to be (together with my anothers 3 little brothers) a simple "model" for my mother and my father. In 1996, after the born of my daughter Rebeca, my wife and I bought a fixed focus 35 mm Fujifilm camera that "lived" about 8 years with us, until it broke. It never was "my" camera. From the beginning of my adult life I was away from any form of visual arts, despite my love and admiration for them. I worked as a loan officer at a bank for almost 10 years, and simultaneously as an analyst/programmer and designer of software systems in my own company until about 12 years ago when I was hired by a Scania heavy trucks dealer where today I work as Commercial Manager of Aftermarket Services. To mid 2007, surfing the Internet, I discovered Flickr, and I was amazed by the possibilities of digital photography. I became a user without any photo to show..., and two months later, without consulting anyone, I purchased my Sony DSC H9 and started this adventure... "Otro Scania" (a truck shut at my work) was my first uploaded photo.

Otra Scania

How would you describe your photographic style?

Innocence - Laughing at the Cemetery

Claudio: I don't know if I have a "style." I have no formal training. I am self-taught, passionate about learning and experiencing. Much of what I learned has been by the criticism, comments and suggestions received on Flickr. The rest of reading and rereading tutorials, tips and articles almost 100% online. I feel that I'm still an amateur, and I am not satisfied with the quality of my photos. Looking back, of course I see my progress, but I think I'm missing a lot in order to become a photographer of quality. In the last 18 months I started to experiment with photomontages and photocomposition, and the tools' learning curve for me was quite simple for my programming skills.

Do you have a personal philosophy about photography? What about photography appeals to you?

Melancholy

Claudio: Photography is for me a 'safety valve,' a means to express the sensitive, shy and introverted Claudio that does not have the capacity to do with poetry or prose, is also a "ground wire" that connects me to the beauty of the world, I know perfectly well that many horrible things that are wrong in the world and hurt me deeply, but at this point in my life I prefer to capture with my camera the things I see and fill my soul of joy.

The most important thing at the time I take a picture, is almost the same as in most of the activities I undertake: enjoy it. As a hobbyist I have the advantage of not having to take photographs of duty, so I can choose to or not taking (provided you have free time to go out and take them ...). Particularly pay attention to composition and light, and the presence at the picture of an item that gives interest to the shot. I totally agree with the Dorotea Lange's quote "The camera is a tool that teaches people how to see without a camera. "

In your traveling as a truck dealer, do you find lots of opportunity for photos? Do you have any favorite locations/spots you’ve taken photos in the past?

Claudio:  In my work I found some opportunities to take pictures. In 2008, invited by the brand for which I work, I spent two weeks in northern Europe in the middle of spring, visiting Estonia, Finland, Sweden, Holland and Belgium. When we were not in a factory or a dealer, I "escaped" and took lot of photographs. I'm in love with the landscapes of the region of Argentina where I live, the "Pampas", for its vast horizons, her bright plains and dramatic skies, and this has been a recurring theme in my last series of photos.

Eternity of Life

What has been your experience with the internet as a medium for sharing your art and photography?

Estacion Matilde - Windmill

Claudio: More than a medium to share my art, the Internet was (and is) a medium to learn. But it gives me some surprises : I sold almost a dozen works at USA, Holland, Italy and Taiwan, via e-mail. Although that does not mean I think I could stay economically with photography, is a great source of satisfaction and a "massage" for my ego.

Tell us a bit about Imag-e-ination. What inspired you to start that up? Where do you hope to go with it in the future?
Claudio: I'm a avid and encyclopedic reader, and the Internet means to me access to the largest library in history. So, the Net is a source of inspiration for me. In that spirit, I joined Twitter and found a community of photographers, poets, artists greater even than he had found on Flickr. So great was the amount of information, and of such quality, that I decided to share with my followers in a more practical way. So I found the site paper.ly that allows me to semi-automatically generate a summary of the tweets of the day in the form of digital diary, and I very happy with the results. I hope I could improve the Image-i-nation journal, transforming it in an independent page.

Iguassu Falls

Do you find any similarities between photography and poetry?
Claudio: For sure. Most of the time photography is visual poetry, and poetry is a mental image through words. As I said, I could express some things that I'm not capable of do writing. Usually I use some quote or a poem as the title of the companion of my photos.

End of Summer

With the advance of digital photography today, how much of a shot would you say is in the picture itself, and how much is in post production work?
Claudio: Post production (digital or not) always existed. The vast majority (if not all) of the common tweaks in exposure (dodging & burning) and retouching have been done since the advent of photography. Then there's the artistic, creative side of photography (ie 'making' pictures, rather than 'taking' pictures) such as adding/removing elements of a scene which enhances the final image. Again if your intent is to create a particular scene or mood, then what of it? Only in 'record' photography is it strictly necessary to record, without adjustment, the scene. This again comes back to the purpose and intent of the photographer—to merely 'capture' a scene or to create a scene, and I usually create an scene.
 

Sunset Without You

What would you suggest to others just beginning with photography?
Claudio:  Shot, shot, shot, shot. If you’re using a digital camera, the cost of errors is free. Go crazy – you might end up with something you like. You’ll certainly learn a lot in the process.
Exercise the power of observation, without the camera. Pay attention to detail. Share your work and be open to the critics.

What kind of camera and equipment do you use for your photography? Editing programs?
Claudio:  My camera is my old point and shot Sony DSC-H9 with a very common polarizer filter, and I use Photoshop CS3 for editing.

Happiness is not a state to arrive, but a manner of traveling

Could you please recommend a few photography resources for individuals who wish to know more about the art form?

Claudio:  Some resources...

Flickr : http://www.flickr.com
Deviant-Art : http://www.deviantart.com/
DPS Digital Photography School :
http://www.digital-photography-school.com/
JPG Magazine : http://jpgmag.com/
Photoshop Tutorials : http://photoshoptutorials.ws/
PSD Tuts : http://psd.tutsplus.com/
Abduzeedo : http://abduzeedo.com/
Obvious Magazine : http://obviousmag.org/en/archives/photography/

And all the photographer's sites for inspiration (and happiness).

*********

Now for the Picture Prompt Challenge!

Write a poem (or Flash Fiction 55) based on the prompt.
Post it on your site.
Sign up using Mr. Linky so people can find your work.
Let us know what you are sharing by leaving a comment below.
Finally, visit other participants, comment, & give credit to Claudio in your post. 

Thank you,
dustus

Accept the picture prompt challenge! :)

Claudio has titled this photomanipulation "The Arrow Shot"

One Stop Poetry Spotlight: The Walking Man, The Line Between & Poetry Slam

Every once in a while you stumble upon a poet that changes the way you look at poetry. Mark Durfee (aka The Walking Man) is one of those poets to me. Having walked virtually with Mark for over a year, I have learned much in regards to poetry and when I became interested in Poetry Slam, he was the one I turned to as well.

I was at the Richmond (VA) Slam this last Saturday night and I will say if you ever have a chance to go to one, take it. I witnessed some amazing performances by poets of diverse ages and backgrounds, even getting the opportunity to be a judge for the slam portion.

Mark hails from Detroit, and has several books out, recently publishing The Line Between, which focuses on what we do on that line between the day we were born and the day we are done. In the front of the book Mark writes, "As is his style Durfee writes not pretty poetry but is as honest with his words as as his grandmother was in her love," which I think is why I like his work so much.

Below is a poem, not from the book, but that I swiped from a recent post. I highly recommend visiting Mark and picking up The Line Between. You will not be disappointed. ~Brian

Put Your Gifts Under Your Litter

In the land of the ice and cold

where the anger burns
blistering and steamy
we look at living trees
with frost blown breath
and regard them as perfect
where they stand.

I watch as we cut them down
by our own hand to die in our houses.
We festoon the green and steal the scent
with spirit of graciousness gone tragic,
with good living for “the children.”
There is an ocean of plastic
floating on the earth and I need
to take more life and it desecrate
to make my place prettier
for a couple of weeks
rather than use the litter I helped create?

If a tree makes you feel joyfully,
if the masters of the underworld
can inject beef flavor callously
into your McDonald's hamburger
I am certain they can inject a fabulous
fake pine scent to make the season go further
into your recycled plastic reusable dead already tree.

Every single piece O green,
be it a blade of grass,
flower coming to bud,
weed or tree
is needed now to be left in its place.
That is if we,
the human race
are going to continue to be
able to breathe.

© M Durfee
12/10/10

One Stop Spotlight - "A Life Less Illustrious" by Arron Palmer

Last Wednesday after reading Arron's One Shot entry, I got a bit stuck at his blog. Reading on, I discovered a poem that gripped me immediately - A Life Less Illustrious - a spotlight on a homeless person, written in a warmhearted and honest voice, and I'm glad Arron agreed very spontaneously to share it with us here at One Stop.

Arron only just started his blog in October and I'm looking forward to reading many more poems of his.

~ Claudia


A Life Less Illustrious

I used to look at you,
Dozens didn’t,
Rushing by with “too much to do in too little time”-
What an envious life they lived.

You’d listen to their cursing,
Wishing you could trade your ripped cords,
Your vomit-specked sleeping bag,
Your damp trainers,
Your heroin addiction

For their pin stripes,
Their Italian leather,
Their smooth chins,
And their deadlines.

You’d thank them for their ignorance,
Wishing them well for the day.
Some would apologise, “Sorry mate, only notes”,
Then walk away from your plight
To the tune of £2.10 in their trousers.

Wasn’t always so bad:
Occasionally, you’d get tossed a copper
From a busy banker on a call to Hong Kong,
Without a look like a sardine to a seal
Whose novelty had worn off at the zoo.

It probably did more for them than you:
Their good deed of the day
And conceited ego-stroke
In the bag before elevenses.

I’d bring you a bacon butty
And a cup of tea, determined
To feed only you and not your habit.
You were grateful. I was moved.

So I’d lean against your living room,
Noting that you’d never request my shoes off,
And listen to your stories,
So wonderfully told given the circumstances.

A gifted illustrator-
I still have the witty strip about you
Giving change to the bankers following the Crunch-
How we laughed.

Nearly a professional cricketer too,
Before a snapped cruciate put paid to that.
You had revealed your knee-
Wrapped in a discarded tea towel to stop
The cold adding insult to injury.

Other times, we simply talked about me.
I didn’t want to complain too much,
Or talk at length about my date next Friday,
Afraid it may offend you.

You insisted it wouldn’t and encouraged me:
Perhaps you felt able to live a slice of life
Through my trite tribulations.
Or maybe you were simply happy for me.

That had continued for a good two years,
When one morning I didn’t see you.
The suits didn’t notice the vacancy in the doorway
But I did. I fed your breakfast to the pigeons that day.

I often wonder where you went.
Did you get saved and housed and move into
Illustrating whilst listening to the Test matches
On the battery radio I gave you?

Or did you trade hope for a bottle,
And with a needle in a collapsed vein,
Follow the empties into the river?

I hope it was the former,
That I’ll see your distinctive style on the Politics page,
That I’ll pass you in the street and won’t recognise your smooth chin.
Until then, I don’t walk the Thames way to work anymore.

© Arron Palmer

"I am Arron Palmer, 21, from Leicester in England. I recently graduated as an economist but my first (and last) love has, and always will be, poetry. Those two occupations are quite opposing I suppose, so I guess I'm a Jack of all (well, two) trades and a master of none.

I have written poetry ever since I could hold a pen, but have begun to get my teeth into it seriously only ever so recently, with my poetry blog A. Palmer Poetry only a couple of months old. I read and write daily, and carry a notebook around with me. I am a walking cliche. I write best and most prolifically just as I fall asleep, and can't sleep until I have written it down. I guess you could say my method for writing is tiring...

As for the poem in the spotlight, quite literally, well it is for those who sadly don't get much sleep either. Not because they are gripped by an inconvenient artistic rush, but by the fear of constant dangers lurking in the dank city nights. I was moved by an article in a pamphlet for homeless charity CRASH, and wrote this little story very spontaneously and without much editing. I realised I felt strongly about this issue, so the ideas, feelings of both guilt and empathy and the film-like relationship rolled very quickly off the ballpoint. I hope to do more for the homeless, much more than put the topic to paper and screen, but actually help out volunteering.

But for now, I am completely honoured and extremely grateful to be given the chance to raise awareness amongst a wealth of such great talent here at One Stop Poetry."

One Stop Spotlight - Underground Poetry London

Just imagine, you get up early, leave home in a hurry, grab a coffee to go, head for the subway and as you enter the station with thousands of commuters, someone would hand you an A5 leaflet - and as you start to read, poetry mingles into your early morning schedule - and when you look at the reflection in the subway window, you see a smile on your lips...

A dream? Not in London - thanks to a creative young lady, this could really happen to you...
I'm thrilled to introduce Nina Ellis and her Underground Poetry Group...
~ Claudia  

Nina Ellis:
I live between Cambridge (I am at university there) and London, where I moved when I was fourteen -- I grew up in Paris. I started Underground Poetry in March 2010 and ran it alone until this September, when I realised I needed to get some other people on board to take it to the next level. Now the team is comprised of me, Katya Kazakevich, George Shapter, Donald Futers, Talissa Spencer-Dewhurst and Leila Morad. We publish as many people as we can -- there are about thirty Underground Poets at the moment -- and the number of distributors also varies and is growing. We welcome anyone who wants to get involved.

Diver

a poem by Lizzy Dening

Nina, how and when did you get the idea to hand out poems to London subway travelers?

I got the idea when travelling on the Tube last March. I have always found other Tube travellers really interesting -- I love looking at the people around me and wondering what their stories are. It's strange, in a way, that we're all packed into a carriage like that, so close together, and yet don't know anything about each other. I think encouraging the connection and interaction of Tube-travelling strangers is a really positive, mind-opening thing to do. And since I see poetry as a sort of snapshot into its author's world-view, it makes sense as a way of achieving that sort of interpersonal connection. So we hand out poetry by Tube travellers to Tube travellers to give them insights into each other's lives and minds... And of course to cheer them up on their commute!


How do the commuters react to this - are they surprised or alienated?

They're usually surprised and happy. We do get some funny responses though, like "A free phone?" (no, it's a free POEM) or "How much does it cost?" (I said a FREE poem). But often people will ask for several to give to their families, colleagues or students, which is wonderful; or they'll be very grateful and supportive, which of course is so encouraging.


Do you get feedback from the travelers?

Yes, and UP is based on their feedback: they read the poems we hand out and send their own poetry to the email address printed beneath them... And then we print it the following month. Usually they do send messages with the poems. They're always really positive and encouraging, and often quite moving. It makes me so happy to read them and know that by doing this we're really touching people, emotionally and intellectually.


Are you working together with other groups or have you heard about something like this existing in other cities?

No, this is the first thing I've heard of that does this. People have asked to start UP projects in their own cities, so we're thinking about how we could do that. But yes... We love collaborating with other artists and art activists -- for instance, we're putting on a Live Poetry and Music night at the Troubadour in London on January 7th (see the website or Facebook group for more details), at which Underground Poets will be performing alongside musicians and artists. And of course all of our leaflets, and the logo, are designed by the artist George Shapter. So we do believe strongly in collaboration; we think sharing our art and ideas is the key to inspiration and fulfilment. That's why we do what we do.


What are your plans for the future?

To keep the Underground Poetry movement going and growing!

Also, here is our Manifesto:

"The goal of the Underground Poetry movement is to bring London Underground travellers into meaningful contact with each other through poetry: we hand out poems written by travellers to other travellers for free on the Tube. We believe that these poems act as social snapshots, as glimpses into their authors' worlds. By distributing them on the Underground we aim to give Londoners the opportunity to see life from each others' widely varying points of view. This process promotes empathy and tolerance, and appeals to a natural human curiosity about the man in the yellow socks who got on at Finsbury Park (or whoever). Of course, the Underground Poetry movement also encourages the day-to-day writing and reading of poetry. Every leaflet we print features our website and email addresses, so that the recipient can send in their poetry to be published by us the following month.

Underground Poetry was founded in March 2010. Since then we have printed and distributed a new batch of poems every month. Submissions have risen to over one hundred per month, and we now publish at least a thousand leaflets in each issue, featuring between five and twenty different poems. Printing is cheap and simple: we photocopy templates onto A4 paper, and cut each sheet into two A5 flyers, which we distribute. Since March, the Underground Poetry team has increased from one person to ten (including a treasurer, a web director and an art director, amongst others) and the founder and editor has been interviewed for a leading online poetry magazine. We have had a great deal of encouragement and enthusiastic support throughout, and have recently received requests to set up Underground Poetry in Bristol and Toronto. Word is spreading.

At the moment we are looking for funding to cover printing and website costs, so that Underground Poetry can support itself. It is not expensive to run: at the moment it costs us less than fifty pounds per month, though we would like to increase output in the near future."


Poetry submissions

We welcome submissions of any kind of poetry (or lyrics, or very very short stories), provided it will fit onto an A5 sheet of paper. It does not have to be about the Underground, but can be if you'd like it to be. We prefer to publish poems that Tube travellers can identify with, and that have about them a sense of joy and hope -- the Underground is dark and grimy enough as it is.

Email address for submissions is poetryonthemove@googlemail.com

 

Nina Ellis (middle) and her team 

Thank you Nina!  

All the best for you, your team and the fantastic work, you're doing!

One Stop Poetry: A Poetic Monday!

Hello everyone!

Today's Monday finds us with a slight change of pace. This week I'm your host - Chris Galford - so Brian Miller, who usually handles our Monday Spotlights, can have a little time with the family. He deserves it, work-a-holic that he is!

I know you're used to seeing a spotlight here at the start of your week, but to open the Thanksgiving week, which is a major holiday celebration in America, I would like to share with you a picture and a poem of the season. I hope you enjoy, and happy holiday to all those celebrating Thanksgiving!

"The First Thanksgiving," by Jean Leon Gerome Ferris (1863–1930)

Of Turkeys and Bounty
(By Chris Galford)

A cornucopia, all for me,

how thankful is the blind man

to the fruits of his fair nothing—

the greenery, grown, beneath the

scarlet massacre-flood

through the sky, the day

the men in their wide-brimmed hats

forgot the sea, learned the barrel

no one ever looks the same

behind the sights.

A turkey stuffed

with all the hands, the hammers,

unsung ringings in the deep

lightly smelling of the smoke,

the factories that brimmed with weary souls,

to bring the table to the meal,

to bring the car that brought the people—

smoking still the stilling rifle,

that bought and held and earned

the right to live, to dine,

the right to never know the pain

of making—foundations

in a crowded horn, this overflowing

but the end, not the means.

No oven fire burns so hot

could give the soul,

we dine upon tonight.

Not the usual fare for the Thanksgiving season, but I hope you enjoyed it all the same?

For those among the rest of our global audience, a word on Thanksgiving:

Thanksgiving is an annual tradition in the United States, tracing itself as far back as 1863. The basis for the event occurred even further back, though, in 1621, when the Pilgrims of the Plymouth Colony held a three day celebration - including a harvest feast - to give thanks for food given to them by local Native American tribes, which enabled them to survive the harshness of their first winter ashore in America.

Though the celebration originally began with more religious overtones, the day has since grown into a secular, national holiday largely based around the concept of spending time with one’s family, and giving thanks for all that has come to you in the past year. The government, as well as most businesses, close down in honor of the day, and the Thanksgiving weekend is one of the busiest travel periods of the year. Turkey is a staple of the day itself, while stuffing, mashed potatoes, pumpkin pie, and a host of fall vegetables are also commonly associated with most Thanksgiving dinners.

Thanksgiving is also traditionally a time of great care in local communities, many of which (as well as churches, businesses, and charity organizations) set up annual food drives for the occasion, to provide a Thanksgiving meal to the less fortunate.

Now a question for my fellow Americans among our audience today: what is your favorite part of Thanksgiving - your favorite memory?

One Stop Spotlight - Anton Gourman

Visiting Anton on Forpuck and reading his poems feels a bit like meeting him in a café; you sit down, have a cappuccino and he would just start to talk about his taxi ride from the airport or his latest flight - very naturally, honest and straight-forward - and as you listen, you'd start to see all the tiny details, impressions and deep emotions, he weaves into his stories. By the time you finished your drink, you think you may know him a bit better and may detect some footprints his poetry has left on your soul.

Curious? Then grab a cup of coffee and get ready to meet him...you by the way can talk to him in English, Russian, Swedish and French.
~ Claudia  



sweden, october 2010

I ride on studded tyres to get to you
This land forgets forgiveness in August
Undress
Shed
Take of all you wear, country
We’ll meet when you are naked
and I comfortable

I ride on studded tyres just as
we once
drove north
through snow
towards tomorrow,
a case of gangsta rap in the Mitsubishi

Each passed day shears
Another thimble off my memories
And so I’ve fled the cruelty
of sunrise at ten
and sunset at four
for longer days

For longer days.


© 2010 by Anton Gourman


I was born in Moscow in 79 and moved to Stockholm when I was six. Raised in the suburbs, I moved to London in 2006, after a brief stint in Brussels. My first foray into poetry was in 2001, and it took me about eight months to run out of bitterness and inspiration. It was one of those hurt-love affairs and was, in hindsight, a bit soppy.

I came back to poetry in the summer of 2010. I would like to claim that it was always just a matter of time, but that would be a lie, so instead I'll say this: it was only a matter of time. I also photograph and have drawn, periodically.

I'm inspired by cities and by people, by lust and passion, melancholy, pain, depression. I tend to write quickly and edit only a little bit. The blog has allowed me to get in touch with some people who have been very helpful, for which I am grateful. I must admit to not knowing anything about poetry, and the only poets I find easy to read are Cohen and Bukowski, although Yeats, Lowell, Borges, Thomas and others can be found on my shelf. Mostly, my inspiration is drawn from prose fiction and a lot of cold-war sci-fi.

Puck is one of my three sisters. She says she reads my blog, although i don't always believe her.

One Stop Poetry Spotlight: Dulce

Today I have the honor or turning the spotlight on a very passionate poet, Dulce. I honestly don't know where I met Dulce the first time, but if you drop by Sweeter Poetry, you will understand why I stick around.

Dulce has been writing poetry since she was a teenager, mostly in Spanish, and only for herself. She fell in love with lanuguage and literature and after reading so many great poets/poems at University, she started writing in english.

Today Dulce is 45 and an English Language teacher, teaching english to adults in Gran Canaria-Canary Islands. Enjoy! ~Brian

                                               Woman Coming from the Water by Fusunyeremyam

Perfect
This much I’ve learnt:

Cannot be always right
So hardly ever- in fact.
My knowledge
Keeps on being
That imperfect union
Between the outside
And myself.

But that constant link
With all its imperfections
Does not undermine
The importance of that bond
Of one thing
To the other...


My poetry is a reflection of what I have experienced in life, not only (though especially) love, but also any other human concerns. It's the best way to me to open my soul and get to understand my life and life in general. ~Dulce

Figure it out

I’ve disappeared through

These sheets and walls

That’s not only

Figurative.

From that start

When our hearts lost control

Knowing we were born

To grow apart

But still we insisted on

Sailing to non-existent isles.

Missing days filled

With memories

Of broken stars

As I woke up.

I’ve waited

I’ve dreamt

I’ve felt jealous and

As furious as a bear

…And I loved you

Anyway…

We could not catch the rainbow

But it was there for us to stare

From anywhere

…And you loved me

Anyway…

Guess that’s just

Figurative

One Stop Spotlight - Terresa Wellborn & her Poetry

Each time, I visit Terresa at "The Chocolate Chip Waffle", I'm spellbound by the way she weaves words into poetry. I told her that sometimes I picture her as the "Queen of words", wielding a magic wand, the words tumbling across the page, willingly submitting to what flows out of her pen with tremendous ease and obediently falling into their perfect places. She seems to write effortlessly - lightweight - naturally and to read her works often feels like bathing in moonlight to me. I asked her to not only share one of her poems, but also to tell us a bit of the writing process and of what writing means to her.
~ Claudia 


Enjoy what she's written for us...

Ideas reach my shore and I write. I consider the place I draw my inspiration from an ocean, ebbing, flowing, unfathomable, refracting light while containing great depths. I dive for words, draw them out and set them into the landscape of my writing, float them across a page.

In a New York Times essay, Maryanne Wolf, in an attempt to answer the question, “Why read books if we can’t remember what’s in them?” responded, “You are the sum of it all.” I approach writing that way: everything I read, see, doubt, and dream feeds into it. My writing, in a way, is the sum of my experience.

Quoting Thoreau, “I make it my business to extract from Nature whatever nutriment she can furnish me, though at the risk of endless iteration. I milk the sky and the earth.” This is how I write, taking from nature and life, wrenching sky and earth and everything in between. It is exhausting, it is work, it is play.  I also like to make up words when I write, and as Baudelaire said, "If the word doesn't exist, invent it."  And I do.
I appreciate the creativity poetry allows me. I would forfeit everything I have in order to write, to stay constantly in that creative zone, but it's not possible. Instead, I rise with so much to love, to read, to share, and as ideas reach my shore in waves, I write.



The Guests

I drove, a solitary sail into the mouth of the night,
to the Wasatch edge where I saw her, a deer,
head bent to a pool of green,
and you, a flung star.
How we wanted her, like a hooked dream, awash
in our own brine. We poured,
paired cups of disbelief and tremulous now,
gathered guests at a table only she knew how to give.
We took her in, a blur of tan and heaving life,
her heart written out in hoof and tail twitch,
and us, captured on the deck of that dark night,
fish, even,
swallowed.

--Terresa Wellborn

© 2010 by Terresa Wellborn. All rights reserved.


Terresa Wellborn has a BA in English Literature from Brigham Young University, an MLIS from San Jose State University. Her poem, “A Different Leaving,” was recently highlighted on Nic Sebastian's Whale Sound, and her essay, “Seeing” will be published in the journal, Segullah, spring 2011. She blogs at "The Chocolate Chip Waffle"