Remember me? Of course I do.
written by Julie R. Neidlinger 0 comments link this postGranted, maybe you like poems about toilet paper, grouse, and soap dispensers. I can certainly handle those topics.
On the off chance, though, that you're not interested in reading poems that contain phrases like "bifurcated garment" -- you're in luck.
I'm taking this opportunity to send you to Meg's blog, a young woman who, pre-college, was in the writers' group I am in. She sent me one of those "do you remember me?" kind of emails I even still get once in while from students I taught back in my art teacher days, filling me in on some of the great travel, education and writing opportunities she's gotten to take part in. She has poetry and travelogues and photos on her blog.
None of which, as far as I can tell, talk about getting a bloody nose in the winter, which was my topic du jour just a short while back.
I always appreciate such emails from students or young people I've had the opportunity to get to know, as long as they don't say anything like "hey, remember me you horrible art teacher who ruined me on art for the rest of my life? I was the one who keyed your car."
Stuff like that? Not so swell.
Anyway, check out her blog and stop back to see what she's writing. We can all use readers, we writers.
Labels: links, poetry, writer's group
Copyright (c) Julie R. Neidlinger 2/29/2008 05:57:00 PM
SHARE THIS POST: Facebook | Stumble It! | Del.icio.us | DiggIt! | Technorati | Blinklist | Furl | reddit | Newsvine
Like this post? Subscribe to the feed.
Click here to help support this site.
Wheat Porn.
written by Julie R. Neidlinger 0 comments link this post::As if you thought I wouldn't do it; you knew I would as soon as I mentioned it.::
Dirty Wheat
by Julie R. Neidlinger
The filthy wheat waved in the wind,
Slender and willowy,
Lasciviously beckoning the huge huge combine.
The heavily bea--
(Time out here. I just thought of something that would be perfect to include in this agrarian double-entendre, but I just can't bring myself to show anyone else those workings of my mind.)
...and willowy,
Lasciviously beckoning the huge huge combine
Except for the stalks, broken, hailed on, pounded down,
Lying supine.
(Having some trouble with the rhythm.)
Flushed cheeks on each kernel,
The crease narrow between two rounded--
(What was I thinking? I'm making myself blush at my own pen. About wheat.)
Flushed cheeks on each kernel
Flushed cheeks on each kernel
Flushed cheeks on eac--
(Kernel doesn't rhyme with many useful words.)
The flushed cheeks on the farmer
From too much sun
(I wonder if I should denote that it is the facial cheeks I'm talking about? I think that would be a given considering we're talking a farmer here, and no farmer tan in the world would reveal any other cheeks, though this be a poem of double entendre.)
As he gently brushed his hands over the
over the
over the
(I can't go on. This is too much.)
Nine dollars a bushel is a good price.
Copyright (c) Julie R. Neidlinger 10/08/2007 02:54:00 PM
SHARE THIS POST: Facebook | Stumble It! | Del.icio.us | DiggIt! | Technorati | Blinklist | Furl | reddit | Newsvine
Like this post? Subscribe to the feed.
Click here to help support this site.
