(Reading about the)

Reading about the
rape of a seven-year-old
girl -- stunned, sad and pissed.

Work Out Your “Bowelvation” With Rear End Trembling

There are few things
more satisfying
than a good poop.
Not the poop itself,
of course, but
the act of
eliminating
the dogged doodie.
After a good dump,
all seems right
with the world
(or at least
with your bowels).
You can breathe
deep again
and leave the can
with your shoulders back,
ready to take on
the next meeting,
class or diaper,
knowing that,
in the end,
things have a way of
working out.

Here's to Hoping

In a matter of days, the winner of Alimentum's inaugural poetry contest will be announced. I am waiting, with great hope for a good word. Regardless of the outcome, I will soon focus my energies on the next contest, The MacGuffin's 15th National Poet Hunt Contest. Keep hope alive!

(standing at the sink in the ladies’ room)

standing at the sink in the ladies’ room –
through the wall to the men’s room,
hearing things I don’t want to hear

The Lord Giveth and His People Taketh Away

You threw me away
like an unwanted fetus.
I was too much trouble,
too much hassle,
too inconvenient.
I didn’t fit into your
busy, respectable life.
I was too big of a
problem to fit into your
Bible-themed day planner.
Jesus said that God cares
for even the pigeons,
but you don’t have
a second more for me.
You ripped me out of a
warm womb, my heart
still beating, with “Christian”
forceps so cold and a
glare so glazed
they would make
any abortionist wince.

Chem Lesson

Tuesday night, I entered The Hermitage Hotel's Valentine's Day Poetry Contest. I dusted off and submitted "Chem Lesson," a piece that I wrote as a graduating senior at Hope College in 1998. As always, any good news will be posted here.

I smooth my palm into
the dip between your
rib and hip bone
on the side facing
the ceiling. The tip top
of your big tip toe
makes my index finger
smile. The two interact,
as if old friends meeting
for the first time. Sometimes
there’s a connection
that happens between
body and soul, like
DNA at work or
the saving chemicals
that form antibiotic.

"The Food Show" Reading

I am planning to attend the Alimentum reading at Cumberland Gallery tomorrow night. For those in the Nashville area, come on out! Details here.

Folks

Roommates are strangers
who become friends
who become family.

Family members are roommates
who become friends
who are strange.

Exes are friends
who become family
who become strangers.

Note: Originally, this poem was separated into three pieces (Folks #1, Folks #2 and Folks #3). These days, I often read the three together as one piece (Folks) at poetry events.

Wilco Haiku Contest Winners Announced

Sadly, I was not named among the winners. See the lucky folks' winning pieces here. Congrats to those fine, minimalist poets!

(new year)

new year
new courage
fresh as the snow

Miles Davis on tap
grape juice in the stereo
a New Year's Eve day

Christmas cat –
bedside greeting
begins with a pounce

I Love Snow

for Julie

I remember
the Christmas
that you and I
mended our friendship.
You wore a
cool, retro
fur coat
and we walked to
the park across
the street from
Debbie's house.
That night we
laughed and sang
about snow
with the Christmas
lights shining
behind us
and the future bright;
ahead of us.

Common Round (Rumpster Dumpsters "R" Us)

Taking a dump is a noisy occupation.
One cannot poop with dignity or decorum.
Your Ph.D., LL.D., M.A. or B.A.
amounts to a pile of B.S. when it comes to BMs.
On the throne, we are all the same –
all princes, all paupers, all poopers.
Sure, our performances may differ –
some may grunt, moan, sigh or groan –
but the delivery is the same.
And it's not pretty.
There's nothing cute
about dropping a load.
There's nothing suave
about pinching a loaf.
There's nothing dapper about the crapper.
But we've got to doo what we've got to doo.
On the john or on the loo, we are all average Joes
and Jane Does and that's just the way it goes.

Haiku:2008 Has Arrived!

My third annual haiku chapbook, Haiku:2008 --- For the Record, is hot off the press, just in time for the holidays! If you'd like to order a copy of Haiku:2008 (or Haiku:2007 or Haiku:2006, for that matter), please contact me at hall_amy_e@hotmail.com.

Rob Bell Event Tonight

This evening, I will hear author Rob Bell (Velvet Elvis, et al.) speak.

Forthcoming Haiku Chapbook

My third annual haiku project, Haiku:2008 -- For the Record, is currently at the printer and should be available any day now. The "arrival" announcement will be posted here pronto!

Wilco Haiku Contest Entry #4

A summer morning
birth -- I felt as blue as a
ghost just being there.

Wilco Haiku Contest Entry #3

Summer trots by like
a ghost as I watch TV
live in Chicago.

Wilco Haiku Contest Entry #2

kicking the ghost out
of my hotel room into
the blue summer sky

Wilco Haiku Contest Entry #1

The band Wilco recently held a haiku contest, calling for Wilco-related pieces. I submitted four haiku featuring material from their seven album titles. Special thanks to my friend Matt Scott, who informed me of the contest. As always, any good news I receive will be reported here. Entry one of four:

sinking my teeth in-
to blue Yankee sky on a
cool summer morning

Suitable Expansion

As soon as I read the headline for this story, I knew there was a newspaper blackout poem to be found. So, with thanks to Austin Kleon, and in the spirit of the holidays, overeating and stretch pants, I present "Suitable Expansion" (with text below for ease of reading).

Suitable Expansion

A Chinese buffet eater
cannot seem to stop.
"I threw out my suits."
He cannot seem to contain
his praise for their products.
"At the beginning,
we were small.
Little by little,
we were opening up
to a group of tailors
to expand."

Thanksgiving Traffic

Three miles in an
hour and a half --
bumper-to-bumper
interstate congestion and
stomach indigestion,
angry drivers with
hungry kids, no
exit in sight, and
no explanation.
Arrivals delayed;
hugs and hand-
shakes on hold;
dinners postponed.
It was easy to get
irritated and impatient,
until we saw
the white sheet
on the ground.
Suddenly, we were
thankful for the
fume-filled air that
we were breathing.

Thanksgiving Haiku Trouble

Which do you like best?

Thanksgiving voicemail
greeting: Leave us a message,
you turkey. Gobble!

++++++++++++++++++++

Thanksgiving voicemail
greeting: Leave me a message,
you turkey. "Chow" now!

++++++++++++++++++++

Thanksgiving voicemail
greeting: Leave me a message,
you turkey. Chow; ciao!

++++++++++++++++++++

Thanksgiving voicemail
greeting: Leave a message, you
turkey. "Chow" for now!

Great Expectations

Not only am I excited to hear Donald Miller speak tonight, I just submitted the last of three pieces to Alimentum's poetry contest. Good times ahead!

Donald Miller Event

Tomorrow evening I will hear New York Times best-selling author Donald Miller speak. Miller wrote Blue Like Jazz (a personal favorite), among others.

New Poetry Contest

This morning I submitted the first of three entries to Alimentum's inaugural poetry contest. You can be sure that I will post any good news I receive here!

(concert interrupt-)

concert interrupt-
ed by a sewage backup,
attendees aflush

(little did I know)

little did I know
that would be our last goodbye
no hug, no kiss, gone

(She either just cut)

She either just cut
the cheese or just unzipped a
REALLY big briefcase!

How My Sister Discovered That I Was in Love with Her Best Friend

"You would NEVER
do that for me," she said
in a huff, half shocked;
half outraged after learning
that I had treated J.J.'s
soup bowl like an underwater
hunting expedition --
navigating around the
diced carrots and potatoes,
green bean cuts, petite
peas, navy beans and
conchiglie to fish out
the kidney beans
that J.J. despised
so much. I shrugged
my shoulders, smiled
and stared at the floor
for a few seconds until
J.J. changed the subject,
wondering if we would
see snow that night.

(startled by twin burps)

startled by twin burps --
the secret belcher hidden
in his cubicle

Drawing for Limited Edition Newspaper Blackout Poem Print

If you'd like a shot at winning a signed, limited-edition print of one of artist/writer Austin Kleon's newspaper blackout poems, head over to his site and make a comment on the giveaway post! The deadline is Monday, Oct. 26, at midnight CT. I've already entered, myself!

Southern Festival of Books

Downtown Nashville hosts the 21st annual Southern Festival of Books this weekend. I'm especially excited about Alimentum's sessions, entitled "The Poetry of Food," to be held around lunchtime today and tomorrow. I recently discovered Alimentum, a fabulous literary journal that features poems and short stories that celebrate food (whether directly or indirectly). Rich, wonderful stuff, indeed. Join me tomorrow from 1 to 2 p.m. at the foot of the State Capitol, Charlotte Ave. and Sixth Ave. N.!

Spice by the Spoonfuls

The Hungarian mushroom
soup I had at lunch
today reminded me of
Till Midnight, the
tiny cafe across
the street from
my alma mater.
I went there
once or twice as
a student, unable
to afford more
than soup, dessert
and the spicy jazz fusion
piping through the speakers.

Fall Writing Workshop

Today I attended CWW's fall writing workshop, "The Unbridled Pen," featuring author Michael Martone and cowboy poet Peggy Godfrey.

(Schlep)

Schlep --
her mouth uses it in conversation;
her feet use it for transportation.

Hot Tomato Haiku Contest Entry #9

"Pick me," she whispered,
longing for his strong, kind hands;
flesh ripe for his touch.

Black and White and Re(a)d All Over

My winning haiku is featured in the Nashville Scene's Bites column today!

Hot Tomato Haiku Contest Entry #8

Alone and frantic,
Pinky scourers the dance floor
for his toe mate. Oh!

Hot Tomato Haiku Contest Entry #7

juicy red flesh begs
to be grabbed -- mouth-watering
romp in the garden

Hot Tomato Haiku Contest Entry #6

One look at Cherry,
and Redmond revs his V8
into fried frenzy.

Hot Tomato Haiku Contest Entry #5

summer garden
tryst
juicy red flesh ripe for the
picking --
hot lips ticking

Hot Tomato Haiku Contest Entry #4

Ruby moves her hips,
working hard to play catch-up
with the salsa beat.

Hot Tomato Haiku Contest Entry #3 - A Winner

I am humbled and thrilled to announce that I was named the winner of the Hot Tomato Haiku Contest's "Plum Humorous" category! Over 400 entries were submitted for the contest. Special thanks to BookFool.com, who sponsored the event.

My winning haiku:

Pastor Bruce Shetta
to marry Tobas Coe and
Miss Mary Nara

Tomato Art Fest - Today

Join me at the main stage (11th and Woodland) at 2:00 to witness the Hot Tomato Haiku Contest winners' ceremony!

Hot Tomato Haiku Contest Entry #2

provokes a smile:
empty ketchup bottle fart
at the church picnic

Hot Tomato Haiku Contest Entry #1

fresh tomato slice
memories from my childhood
a summer garden

Tomato Haiku Pieces in the Pipeline

I successfully submitted nine entries for the Hot Tomato Haiku Contest. If I am selected as a finalist, I will certainly announce it here! May the hottest tomato win!

Open Mic Poetry Night

I plan to participate in Landmark Booksellers' open mic poetry night tomorrow evening.

Hot Tomato Haiku Contest

I am preparing to enter the Tomato Art Fest's Hot Tomato Haiku Contest. The deadline is July 31st. Join in on the fun!

Snot Lover

She seems to have a love affair
with snot. She sits at her desk all day
and sniffs up the mucus that makes
its way down the halls of her smeller;
all the while a full box of Kleenex
sits beside her just begging
to be used. It's not the only thing
begging her to blow her honker...
Does she consider it a crime to
send that substance into a tissue?
Does she feel she needs a permit
to shoot the slime out? She has a strange
allegiance to that ooey, gooey
glop. She seems, in fact, to like it.
Does she enjoy the constant
companionship it provides
throughout her work day?
Does it bring her comfort as it
coats her nasal membranes,
drips down her schnoz, and
reminds her that it's still there
with yet another "hello, again"?
Whatever the reason, she loves
her snot and, while I, for one,
believe in the right of every
adult to freely choose whom
to love, SNOT is where I draw the line.
Blow the trumpet, sister!

(Slow work day -- where was)

Slow work day -- where was
this quiet during last week's
beastly project blitz?

Lovebirds

I felt as if I had walked in
on them in the bedroom.
They were beak to beak
as I pulled up the driveway,
the cardinal and the robin.
Before they flew their
separate ways, they looked
directly at me, as if to say,
"Can't you see we're BUSY here?"
I looked away quickly, a little
embarrassed; a little amused;
happy for the little peckers.

Thank You

Thanks to all of you who attended Women's Work last night. Special thanks to Ashley, Connie, Dawn and Randy for their support!

Live Reading This Sunday

I will be sharing some of my poetry this Sunday at the third annual Women's Work festival. Come and enjoy an evening of original poetry and spoken word presented by lovely lady poets!

Sunday, May 10, at 6 p.m.
Z. Alexander Looby Theater
Looby Branch Library
2301 Rosa L. Parks Blvd.
Nashville, TN
$5

For more information or to purchase tickets, visit the Tennessee Women's Theater Project online.

Women's Work 2009

I've been invited to present my poetry at Women's Work again this year on Sunday, May 10, at 6 p.m. More details to come!

Change of Plans

One of my best friends from high school, Adam Lee Crabtree, passed away Wednesday night. I will be unable to participate in the Read-Around Tennessee event tomorrow, as I am traveling out of state to attend services.

The Courtesy Flush

It's a simple solution
to a terrible problem.
Once the baby ruth
has been delivered,
send that puppy home.
Why some folks
refuse to flush their
refuse and spare
the rest of us
their putrid fumes,
I have no clue.
I submit that public
restrooms must be
outfitted with gas
masks to counteract
the air quality offenses.
To such offenders, I
have only one plea:
Don't let your poo
stew under you.

Read-Around Tennessee

Come and join us!

Local writers (and listeners) are invited to the Williamson County Public Library on Saturday, Apr. 18, at 9:30 a.m. for Read-Around Tennessee, a celebration which will be simultaneously observed in communities across the state. Coordinated by the Tennessee Writers Alliance, this fifth annual Read-Around invites all writers, published or unpublished, to share five minutes of their fiction, nonfiction or poetry. All ages are welcome. This event is co-hosted by the library and the Williamson County Council for The Written Word. Pre-registration is not required.

Dangerous Delivery

sitting on the john
startled by the noises
in the stall next to me
praying that I don't get
splattered by the
bazooka pooper next door

In Those Last Moments

What must it have been like
to know that you were about
to be torturously beaten and
brutally crucified? I wonder
if He reviewed His time on
earth in the Garden of
Gethsemane, flipping
through the slide show of
His mind. Did He think of
His family -- His father's
smile, His mother's embrace,
His siblings' laughter --
His favorite adventures,
His favorite foods, His closest
friends? Did He rub His hands
and feet, nauseous at the
thought of the massive nails
ripping their muscles and
snapping their bones? I wonder
if, in His mind's eye -- with the eye
of the Spirit -- He saw the faces
of those He healed and
delivered, and the faces
of all those yet to be freed.
Ultimately, in those last
moments, He saw the face
of God, the will of His Father.
He said "no" to His flesh and
His emotions and "yes" to the
Kingdom of Heaven, as
He knelt one last time and
said, in essence,
"Your Kingdom come.
Your will be done."

(lost my appetite)

lost my appetite
waiting for the elevator
outside the restroom

Except for Earl

Tea is subtle and understated.
It's quiet and underrated.

Except for Earl.

Although Earl Grey doesn't
bust down your door like his
cousin Joe, he does knock
pretty hard.

He tips his hat when you
come to the door and,
before you even say so
much as "hello," he's
inside your house
sitting on your couch
chatting about the morning news.

Earl is chipper, but serious.
He is a man of the world,
sophisticated, up to date
and timeless, all at the same
time. He's a philosopher,
a morning man.
He's the kind of guy
you want on your side.

Today Will Be Okay

I've come to depend on
my morning cup of tea.
I survive interstate traffic
and my own stringent
a.m. primping routine
each morning without a
single drop of caffeine.
When I finally get to
the office, I need to know
that this day is worth all
the effort it took to get
here -- moisturizer, makeup
and mousse, cleaning up
cat vomit and dodging
suicidal drivers and
scraping bubble gum off
of my heel in the parking lot.
I need to know that
everything is going to
be alright. I rely on that
first steaming cup of
comfort with a kick.
I need its warmth and
strength to focus on
the tasks ahead.
And each day I accept
the gift of the black brew,
I know that -- come paperwork,
paper cuts or pervasive
newspaper headlines --
everything is going to be
okay -- at least for today.

(After nearly three)

After nearly three
years of silence, a hello
left his lips today.

Poetry Open Mic

This evening I will participate in Landmark Booksellers' monthly open mic poetry night.

(leaving a bag of new books)

leaving a bag of new books
in the car -- almost as hard as
leaving your newborn at the hospital

(careful to savor)

careful to savor
the first Girl Scout cookie of
the season -- then more

(her name on the)

her name on the
distribution list for
her own death notice

(upon hearing that she has)

upon hearing that she has
metastatic cancer
frantically checking to see if her last
e-mail is still in my inbox

Steaming

spent four minutes
with a spoon and a knife
squeezing every drop out of
the stringless PG Tips tea bag
only to watch it plop back in the cup
in an instant
with a splash

Coffee by Domination

Coffee is a man's drink.
It is robust and hardy.
It's earthy and militant --
even when it's dressed up
with pumpkin spice creamer
and Sweet'N Low.
Coffee doesn't tiptoe like tea.
It busts down the door
and makes itself known.
It takes command and
shows you who's boss.
It drags you through the yard
or the office like a soldier
and takes you to the other side
of the mountain or your morning.
Coffee doesn't disappoint.
Whether it's a buzz or a BM
that you seek, coffee doesn't
let you down.
Coffee is a man's drink.

(driver making the car)

driver making the car
her makeshift makeup studio
and making us nervous

My on-Again, off-Again Bedside Companion

She doesn't like to cuddle
or be held.
She likes to be in control,
to call the shots.
She comes
when she's ready.
She comes
to get what she wants
and leave.
And she practices the most
peculiar positions.
She often prefers to rest her head
near my hips
and press herself against me,
begging to be stroked.
When I pet her in just
the right places,
she purrs with pleasure
and lets me know,
in no uncertain terms,
that she's glad to be
my pussycat.

(snacking on Brussels)

snacking on Brussels
sprouts and agua during the
Golden Globe Awards

(the elevator)

the elevator:
the only place the "code"
allows her to speak to me

A Rework of an Earlier Haiku

I think I like this one better:

first sniff:
got makeup on the
pages of my new book

First version:

got makeup on the
pages of my new book while
trying to smell it

(Christmas cat)

Christmas cat –
bedside greeting
begins with a pounce

Open Mic Night

Tonight I plan to participate in Landmark Booksellers' open mic poetry night, hosted by Victoria Clausi.

(prescription to beat)

prescription to beat
the blues: increase
daily musical intake

And Then There Were Five

Last week my friend Sam shared the goings-on of his recent winter jog and asked me to write a haiku about it. So far, I have five versions. Do you have a favorite?

++++++++++++++++++++

December jog
railroad crossing
eleven turkey vultures

++++++++++++++++++++

11 turkey vultures
1 deer
death = dinner

++++++++++++++++++++

1 deer's fall
is
11 turkey vultures' ball

++++++++++++++++++++

December dinner --
Eleven turkey vultures
dine on deer.

++++++++++++++++++++

fresh venison
feast for
feisty vultures

++++++++++++++++++++

(sampling of the city)

sampling of the city:
snaking post office line
10 days before Christmas

(still dreaming of Sep-)

(after discovering my dislike of Corona)

still dreaming of Sep-
tember – root beer instead of
ice cold Coronas

(dreaming of September)

dreaming of September --
ice cold Coronas on the
screened-in porch

(said a prayer for the)

said a prayer for the
accident victims, thankful to be
on the other side of the median

(Locomotive-like sounds)

Locomotive-like sounds
coming from the apartment upstairs --
Here's hoping it's the washing machine.

A Full Canvas

Unlike most compositions, newspaper blackout poems are created from a full canvas (rather than a blank canvas, page or screen). The goal is to "discover" a poem within the existing article(s) and eliminate all the unnecessary words with a marker (or graphic design tool). The articles above constitute the full canvas with which Austin Kleon's November contestants began.

Saucer Eyes

This is the "newspaper blackout" poem that Austin Kleon selected as one of three runner-ups last month. I will be awarded a free copy of Kleon's forthcoming book. Best of all, my poem will be published alongside his in the HarperCollins release, due out next September! I've included the text below for easy reading.

Saucer Eyes

Puzzling sauce

should be removed

from the table.

Anxiety lies

in her eyes.

A Runner-Up!

I just returned from my Thanksgiving travels to find that I was named a runner-up in the November Newspaper Blackout Poems contest! More on this later!

Newspaper Blackout Poetry

I submitted an entry for the November Newspaper Blackout Poem contest today. I'll let you know if my piece fares well!

On the M-I-C

Tomorrow I plan to participate in the open mic poetry night at Landmark Booksellers. The evening will be hosted by Victoria Clausi.

(driving into the)

driving into the
sunset to vote on a warm
election evening

(bathroom concerto)

bathroom concerto
simultaneous poopers
workplace harmony

Rock 'n' Roll Mama

When my hair dresser
was 13, her hippie mom
made her and her
9-year-old sister sign
an affidavit, vowing to
always love rock and roll.
Though she has kept her
promise all these 26
years, mane master
Melissa regularly
tunes her ears to jazz,
gospel and bubble gum
pop ditties, as well.
And every time she spins
a Martina McBride
disc, her mother cries.

(I look to the bottom of)

I look to the bottom of
my tea cup and wait
for the webcast to end.

Southern Festival of Books

I am planning to attend the Southern Festival of Books this weekend in downtown Nashville. The event is free and open to the public.

Joe and Lenny

A Jolt and a Jam

Friday mornings
are meant for
Lenny Kravitz tunes
and a good cup
of java. A
steamy, creamy
cup of joe and
Lenny's retro
rockers get me
bobbin' my head,
tappin' my feet and
sippin' to the beat.

Family Math

At one time,
the five of us
lived in one house.
Over the years,
one house
has turned into
five homes.
Now, a couple
of times a year,
we are all under
the same roof.

(Noisy people don't)

Noisy people don't
belong at state natural
areas. Quiet!