'Twas two nights before Christmas...

When all through the house,
I finished gift wrapping, well - at least for my spouse.
The stocking was hung by the chimney with care;
it's stuffed with some goodies - how did those things get there?
In sweatpants I snuggle, warm in my bed,
While my to-do list still dances around in my head:
We leave in the morning and I still need to pack,
and sync up the iPod for the ride there and back.
I suppose we'll leave early to beat the great rush;
Pray the L.I. Expressway is not full of slush!
To church with the family, then off to the feast,
we'll have pasta and bratwurst, but no rare roast beast.
Christmas Eve night, we'll eat such good food,
and with wine we'll be merry and in a good mood.
When, what to my wondering eyes should appear -
Gifts under the tree! Looks like Santa was here!
And I'll worry 'bout whether our gifts are enough...
or maybe, just maybe, it's a tad too much.
But it's not about presents or boxes or bows,
It's about loving and giving, as everyone knows.
So, 'though it's Christmas that I wait to be here,
I say to you all, "Happy Holidays and a Splendid New Year!!"

NaNoWriMo?

Earlier this week, a coworker gave me a clipping from November's Self magazine with the heading "Got 3 minutes? Start Writing a Novel." She left a sticky note pointing to the article, saying "Christine - Saw this and thought about you - you can do it!" What a nice gesture. I told her a while ago - maybe a year or two ago - over lunch that I like to write as a hobby. Since then, she's been giving me clippings from magazines or newspapers about writing and getting published. I think that's tremendous that she has so much faith in me, especially being that she's never read any of my writing outside of professional material.

I put the article aside, thinking, well - I don't do novels. I write poetry. Bad poetry, but poetry nonetheless. I tried my hand at short stories a while ago but they never amounted to much. I always lost inspiration...or heart...or interest. Then I started thinking things over again. A novel. I always say, with all the craziness I've seen in my life so far, I could write a book. Maybe now's the time.

Why now? Well, apparently November is National Novel Writing Month. Who knew? Also, apparently, it's the 10th anniversary. So, what exactly does this mean? Click here to find out.

Write 50,000 in 30 days. The thought of it sounds so...daunting. I can't even imagine what 50,000 words look like. I guess novels don't necessarily have to equate Dostoyevsky, though - right? I have to at least try. So...without further ado, I am announcing that I am officially participating in National Novel Writing Month (NaNoWriMo). I have one week to sort things out and prepare myself.

The article my coworker gave me gave three tips: 1) Find a personal story line, 2) Turn off that critic in your head, 3) Stay Motivated. Sounds easy enough, but we'll see. Wish me luck!

Life Begin Again

It's a day shy of the 7th anniversary of the attacks on September 11. I wasn't going to write anything about this dark day in our nation's history. We have moved on and adjusted to a new way of life. We do not mourn in the same way or to the same degree anymore. When politicians sprinkle speeches with reference to 9/11, their tired words are met with yawns, rolling eyes and irritation by the public. We have once again returned to our cocoons and care more about the mudslinging going on in the race for the Oval Office than we do about each other. We are not unified as we were at that moment in time.

I was not in the New York that day; however, I was at work, 11 miles away, on the Jersey side, and watched plumes of dark smoke waft over the city, cutting into the crystal blue sky, in horror. I was a ball of nerves when I could not get in touch with friends who did work or live in the city. The music lover that I am turned her radio off for weeks. I had friends lose close relatives, neighbors lose spouses. We all have our stories. We have a shared yet individual experience. We have our memories of that day.

The Volume 3:Further in Time by Afro Celt Sound System was released just a few months earlier in June 2001 and was on heavy rotation on my CD player. It was eerie how the song "Life Begin Again", almost literally, captured the emotion and environment of those days immediately after the attacks. With simple yet poignant lyrics sung by Robert Plant, and interspersed with an excerpt from a traditional Welsh ballad "The Lark's Elegy" ("Marwnad yr Ehedydd"), balancing the thunder and soft sorrow over "Middle Eastern" strings, it still gives me chills. When I learned of the translation of the Welsh lyrics (scroll to the end of this post), my heart returned to my throat.

Listen: LIFE BEGIN AGAIN

This is the day, and the hour
The time where the changing begins
The land, and the sky, fall quiet
Silence moves over the plain

The heat of Cwymhr still burning
The heart still beating within
Her songs echoed the fallen
For life to begin again

This is the day and the hour
The time where the changing begins

Land and the sky fallen silent

Quiet moves o'er the plain

Quiet moves o'er the plain
The silence moves over the plain

The land and sky fall quiet
The heart is beating within
Her song echoes calling
For life to begin again
For light to begin again
--------------------------------------------------------
Translation of the Welsh verses from "The Lark's Elegy":

Mi a glywais fod yr hedydd
Wedi marw ar y mynydd;
Pe gwyddwn i mai gwir y geirie,
Awn â gyr o wŷr ac arfe
I gyrchu corff yr hedydd adre.

I have heard that the lark
Has died on the mountain;
If I knew the words to be true,
I would take a band of armed men
To bring the lark’s body home.

Jesus Moth

Is it belief or desperation?
Do you search for the Messiah
in each moldy crumb you're given,
in every hour you're starving,
on the wings of a small prophet,
on cloudy horizons drifting,
on the brink of your salvation,
in a Truth only man defines?

Like a Surgeon...

No, not as in scalpels and incisions. We can save that for another day.

I'm talking about the Poetry Society (UK) who meets to perform poetry surgery during scheduled, and fully pre-planned meetings. The idea of the surgery is to go over a person's poetry and focus on what's good and what could be better. I suppose there are groups in the U.S. that do that, too; I'm just not sure it's so formal. Do you know of any of these groups?

In a way, it reminds me of writing classes in school. I wish I had that kind of feedback now. There are many good writers, but the elusive question remains: what makes just a few "great"? It's on the tip of my tongue, but I seem to bite down on it all the time. I could write and write and write (like I used to back in those pre-career, pre-marriage, pre-adulthood responsibilities kind of days), and my own instincts can tell me whether something is passable, or whether it should never see the light of day again. Which is why I take the chance to post my own poetry here now and then. I like to share, but like most people - I need feedback. I need to know how I'm doing. If I'm ok and you are moved in a small way by my words, I would like to know. If I've been doing it wrong all along, I need to know that, too. I get discouraged now and then, and feel like I should just give up on this whole silly thing that no one really cares about anyway, but then I remember - I care! It means something to me. So I keep on trying, cutting into that skin.

Punk Rock Grrl

Alot of songwriters happen to write lyrics like good poetry; then there are those who are true poets who happen to turn their work into incredible songs. Patti Smith falls into the second category.

Patti Smith moves through our collective imagination as an enigma, the epitome of "cool" and that is part of her appeal. Visionary "Godmother of Punk" of the 1970s, to the American Top-40 listening world, she's probably best known for "Because the Night" co-written with Bruce Springsteen in 1978, and brought into new light after 10,000 Maniacs remade the song in 1993. She's not now, nor has ever really been, mainstay on radio, and seemingly disappeared altogether through most of the 80s and 90s from the public eye. She's back this year with a vengeance, still private yet artistic as ever, and for that, I recommend checking out her work, past and present. I won't make this a review of her work because it's something that just needs to be experienced. You'll understand.

Her ninth book of poetry Auguries of Innocence was first published in 2005 but was re-released this summer in an "expanded" edition, although including only two new poems from the original text. She also has a new album out, also released this summer, entitled "The Coral Sea" with Kevin Shields of My Bloody Valentine. And her talent is not limited to poetry or song. A book of her photography will be released this November, entitled Patti Smith, Land 250. Also, to get a better glimpse into the life of this transient artist, the book Patti Smith: Dream of Life will be released on Tuesday, August 26, based on the acclaimed film of the same name.

Web: pattismith.net

MySpace: myspace.com/pattismith

And for your listening pleasure, some of her songs:

E-Bow the Letter (with REM)

Gloria

Dancing Barefoot

Without Chains

Land

Reconnecting

"Some people just weren't as interesting as others,"
he said, apologizing for sounding like a jerk
he said, in a connotation of coolness
that fed into the otherwise heady stream
of thought, so intellingent, as if
this thought could be expressed with
it caught between the gripping teeth.

"And some just were not interesting at all,"
I said, to myself, I wish - a reply to give;
instead, I don't answer or acknowledge;
instead, I remain as boring as ever.