Monday, January 26, 2009
Sillicon Valley searches for poet laureate
"Sillicon Valley is searching for its first poet laureate - a writer who can elevate the art of haikus in the land of high-tech."
Tuesday, January 20, 2009
Transcript of Elizabeth's Alexander's Inaugural Poem
Here's the transcript to Alexander's Inaugural Poem. I'm still digesting it, like I feel most poets will do in the coming months.
"In today's sharp sparkle, this winter air, anything can be made, any sentence begun./ On the brink, on the brim, on the cusp -- praise song for walking forward in that light."
"In today's sharp sparkle, this winter air, anything can be made, any sentence begun./ On the brink, on the brim, on the cusp -- praise song for walking forward in that light."
Thursday, January 15, 2009
Tabula Rasa
Greetings All!
I'm not-so-surreptitiously infiltrating this side of the blogosphere after much clever coercing from your fearless poetic leader – The Amplified Bard. Well, it wasn't quite so dramatic – but hey – he gave me free reign to write whatever tickled my fancy…and I just really wanted to use the word coerce in a sentence.
In case you haven't figured it out by now, I'm not a poet. I'm a writer of sorts, but lately I've found that my inspiration to write pretty much anything, whether it's a press release for work or an entry on my own damn blog, has been taken captive by the bastards that are my writer's block and it's showing no signs of a struggle. It – meaning my "inspiration" – has gone into hiding and I fear she's never coming back to the forefront of my consciousness.
One of the things I'd always wanted to do was write about music. I've an unhealthy obsession with most things musical and had yearned to play some part in the grand scheme of the music world. I just never had the ovaries to do anything about it.
After an unsuccessful stint at trying to make a life for myself in Austin, I begrudgingly moved back to Houston to take a non-writing related job I thought I'd love. It didn't work out. That job kicked my ass every single day until it broke my spirit. I figured – at that point – I had nothing to lose, so I sent the email I'd wanted to send for years and hoped that taking this leap of faith into writing was the right thing to do. I was assigned to write my first music review and have been going strong for a couple of years now… That is, until my unfortunate rendezvous with blank pages.
I don't know why writer's block exists. I'm sure a simple Google search would unlock this mystery, but I fear that knowing why it's there won't make it go away. I'll just be armed by the knowledge of its existence without any ammunition for recourse. Perhaps what I should be focusing on is not the fact that I can't, in this particular state of mind, muster up the energy to find another non-existent synonym for the word music, but the fact that I have a genuine fire in my belly to get back to a place where the words flow as freely as piss from a drunk frat boy during Mardi Gras.
My sincerest thanks go out to T.A.B for making me write this entry even when I kicked and screamed in unrelenting defiance. His writing ethic is something I hope to emulate some day. You know, once the internal self-loathing disappears, and then maybe I can call myself a real writer.
Brigitte B. Zabak is a policy nerd by day and a freelance writing nerd by night. She writes for a number of publications including Amplifier Magazine, Free Press Houston and Houston Press and also acts as Editor-In-Chief of Hater Magazine. She has a Masters degree in Political Social Work and has an unhealthy obsession with indie music and candy of the gummy variety.
I'm not-so-surreptitiously infiltrating this side of the blogosphere after much clever coercing from your fearless poetic leader – The Amplified Bard. Well, it wasn't quite so dramatic – but hey – he gave me free reign to write whatever tickled my fancy…and I just really wanted to use the word coerce in a sentence.
In case you haven't figured it out by now, I'm not a poet. I'm a writer of sorts, but lately I've found that my inspiration to write pretty much anything, whether it's a press release for work or an entry on my own damn blog, has been taken captive by the bastards that are my writer's block and it's showing no signs of a struggle. It – meaning my "inspiration" – has gone into hiding and I fear she's never coming back to the forefront of my consciousness.
One of the things I'd always wanted to do was write about music. I've an unhealthy obsession with most things musical and had yearned to play some part in the grand scheme of the music world. I just never had the ovaries to do anything about it.
After an unsuccessful stint at trying to make a life for myself in Austin, I begrudgingly moved back to Houston to take a non-writing related job I thought I'd love. It didn't work out. That job kicked my ass every single day until it broke my spirit. I figured – at that point – I had nothing to lose, so I sent the email I'd wanted to send for years and hoped that taking this leap of faith into writing was the right thing to do. I was assigned to write my first music review and have been going strong for a couple of years now… That is, until my unfortunate rendezvous with blank pages.
I don't know why writer's block exists. I'm sure a simple Google search would unlock this mystery, but I fear that knowing why it's there won't make it go away. I'll just be armed by the knowledge of its existence without any ammunition for recourse. Perhaps what I should be focusing on is not the fact that I can't, in this particular state of mind, muster up the energy to find another non-existent synonym for the word music, but the fact that I have a genuine fire in my belly to get back to a place where the words flow as freely as piss from a drunk frat boy during Mardi Gras.
My sincerest thanks go out to T.A.B for making me write this entry even when I kicked and screamed in unrelenting defiance. His writing ethic is something I hope to emulate some day. You know, once the internal self-loathing disappears, and then maybe I can call myself a real writer.
Brigitte B. Zabak is a policy nerd by day and a freelance writing nerd by night. She writes for a number of publications including Amplifier Magazine, Free Press Houston and Houston Press and also acts as Editor-In-Chief of Hater Magazine. She has a Masters degree in Political Social Work and has an unhealthy obsession with indie music and candy of the gummy variety.
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
Poem Published in Opium 2.0
My poem Rumspringa was published in Opium 2.0. Some of the featured writers include, Lyn Lifshin, Aleathia Drehmer, David E. Howerton, John Rocco, Radames Ortiz and Luis Cuauhtemoc Berriozabal.
The simple layout of this magazine allows the reader to focus on the poetry. Editor Ross Vassilev does a great job in putting an eclectic group of poets together. I urge everyone to check it out here.
The simple layout of this magazine allows the reader to focus on the poetry. Editor Ross Vassilev does a great job in putting an eclectic group of poets together. I urge everyone to check it out here.
Sunday, January 11, 2009
Making a Living as a Poet Blog
Soft Skull Press offered to send me two books from their list for free, so as I looked through their catalog, I found this great book called "How to Make a Living as a Poet" by Gray Mex Glazmer. It seems like an interesting book and as I was reading the description of it, I realized there was a blog to accompany the book as well.
This is a wonderful and interesting blog. You can read it here.
Friday, January 09, 2009
Dail-A-Poem
Jonesing for a poetry fix? Don't have access to a computer or a book? Is the only thing available the cell phone in your jeans? Well, don't panic. You can take care of that poetic monkey on your back by calling 215 746-POEM, sponsored by Writers House.
Call this number and you'll get to hear a featured poem read at the Writers House, from their archives. Enjoy!
Call this number and you'll get to hear a featured poem read at the Writers House, from their archives. Enjoy!
Poetry Books: A Year in Review
Cold Front Magazine put a list together of the best books of poetry published in 2008. Check it out here.
Monday, January 05, 2009
Two New Poems Published in Gutter Eloquence
What a great way to start the new year! Two of my poems were published in the inaugural issue of Gutter Eloquence. This is a wonderful new magazine edited by Jack T. Marlowe. The issue features work by David Blaine, Howie Good, John Rocco, J.D Nelson, P.A. Levy, Rob Plath, Puma Perl, Radames Ortiz and Richard Wink.
Here's a description of the journal:
"G.E.M. is a ballsy, new electronic journal that features some of the best voices of the underground lit scene. Free verse poetry that doesn't know the meaning of fear. Poetry that doesn't use 'protection.' Poetry that ignores "no smoking" signs. Bold, unapologetic writing that tastes of real life!
I urge everyone to submit work to them. Here are the guidelines.
Here's a description of the journal:
"G.E.M. is a ballsy, new electronic journal that features some of the best voices of the underground lit scene. Free verse poetry that doesn't know the meaning of fear. Poetry that doesn't use 'protection.' Poetry that ignores "no smoking" signs. Bold, unapologetic writing that tastes of real life!
I urge everyone to submit work to them. Here are the guidelines.
Captcha Poetry
Ah the dread of Pound's exhortation to "make it new," looms over every poet. If you're like me, you're always trying to find that new metaphor, that crisp simile but to no avail. Poets are even reduced to looking to the net for new ways of composing language e.g. Flarf.
A couple days ago, when I was setting up another Facebook account, I started to look more closely at Captchas. What strange phrases computer programs come up with! I noticed that some of these phrases were even poetic at times like "Curious Shadows," or "Noche Diligence," etc. So, the idea occurred to me to make poems using phrases from Captchas, thinking it would be an original feat. But today, while reading BoingBoing, guess what I saw? You guessed it, an entry about someone who already beat me to it. Granted, it's only a "silly" experiment by the author but still, it makes one temporarily insane at times.
Below is poem from the blog.
Aingee
Chedge criestme orstsper!
Shanesto...
Foref, myrac, munmanc,
Torse?
Hanim equin padwo?
Picar!
Mingin!
Corses aingee...
A couple days ago, when I was setting up another Facebook account, I started to look more closely at Captchas. What strange phrases computer programs come up with! I noticed that some of these phrases were even poetic at times like "Curious Shadows," or "Noche Diligence," etc. So, the idea occurred to me to make poems using phrases from Captchas, thinking it would be an original feat. But today, while reading BoingBoing, guess what I saw? You guessed it, an entry about someone who already beat me to it. Granted, it's only a "silly" experiment by the author but still, it makes one temporarily insane at times.
Below is poem from the blog.
Aingee
Chedge criestme orstsper!
Shanesto...
Foref, myrac, munmanc,
Torse?
Hanim equin padwo?
Picar!
Mingin!
Corses aingee...