The Definition of Insanity Turned on Its Head

If we were all born
with different genetics --
different hair
textures, hues and thicknesses,
different eye
colors, shapes and sizes,
different nose,
breast and chest guises,
different skin tones,
and cheek bones
and ear lobes,
different lips and hips and dips,
different metabolisms,
heights and body types --
why do we,
in all our glorious variety,
seek to shed our delicious diversity
in order to adhere to
one "standard" of beauty or identity?

(She doesn't know that)

She doesn't know that
I write haiku about her
bathroom behavior.

Haiku Help

Which version do you prefer?

1
lady who rocked the
elephant fart burst out of
her stall like a bull

2
lady who rocked the
elephant fart shot out of
her stall like a mouse

Droppings

I really hope
that the woman who used
the bathroom before me
was eating (and dropping)
chocolate
in the stall...

Uncomfortable With Life

A Preference for Plastic Pleasure

There is a growing contingent
of people these days
who seem to be
uncomfortable with life.
Not uncomfortable
due to the ugly, painful
realities of life --
breakups, cancer, crime --
uncomfortable with the
beautiful, pain free
moments of life.
Uncomfortable having an
old-fashioned, face-to-face
conversation with a good friend
without fiddling with
their BlackBerry.
Uncomfortable taking a walk
without monitoring their
Smartphone for the latest
Amazon deal.
Rather than witnessing
a gorgeous sunset with the family,
they are the folks
sitting on the porch swing
surrounded by their loved ones,
but focusing on their iPhones,
playing Words With Friends
without speaking a single
syllable to their own flesh and blood.

(real love: standing in)

real love: standing in
the bathroom while your partner
poops, just to catch up

News to Beat the Blues

I am pleased to report that I now have one less rejection letter to my name!  My poems "I'll Be Here" and "Instruments of War" will be published in the forthcoming book Filtered Through Time, an anthology of original fiction and poetry reflecting how a variety of traditions and reactions to the Civil War have come down through the generations for 150 years.  More details to come!

(The duck swimming in)

The duck swimming in
the empty pool doesn't know
the pool's not for him.

The Poet's Job

The poet's job is to remind us what is most important in life, to help us laugh at ourselves, to highlight injustice, to cause us to pause, reflect and wonder.

Civil Conundrum Clips

For those of you who were unable to attend Saturday's Civil Conundrum performance (or for those of you who care to revisit the harrowing, humorous presentation), clips of the program can be viewed here.

The Art of Great Company

Thank you to all of you who attended today's performance at The Arts Company.  What a great group that gathered; what a great gallery!  Special thanks to Betsy, Carolyn, Chris, the Hardins, Joan, Josh, Joy, Rebecca and Sarah for their support!  A very special thanks to my partner in rhyme, Randy Foster, and especially to photographer Robert McCurley, who inspired the entire presentation.

You are invited!

Civil Conundrum
~ Civil War poetry by Randy Foster, Amy E. Hall and Robert McCurley, inspired by the photographs of Robert McCurley ~

Join us for a performance that promises to be both harrowing and humorous!

Saturday, Feb. 11th, from 2 to 3 p.m.
The Arts Company
215 5th Ave. of the Arts
Nashville, TN  37219

* Admission is free, but reservations are required.  RSVP to art@theartscompany.com or call 615.254.2040. *

Civil Conundrum Coverage

My current project, Civil Conundrum -- a collaborative photography-poetry program with Robert McCurley and Randy Foster, was covered in the Nashville Scene's latest issue.  Civil Conundrum is part of a larger exhibit called The South Through Eight Lenses & a Code.  For more information, visit The Arts Company's current exhibition page.

(ban on "bored" meetings)

ban on "bored" meetings:
espresso, shortbread cookies;
jazz records on low

In This Wow

Have you ever
held a book
in your hands
that felt so right?
A book that
felt perfect,
and supple
and soft, but
firm in all the right places?
A book that
belongs
in your hands
at this moment;
at this time?
A book that
was written
years ago
but was meant
for you
right here; right now?
A book that,
in this moment,
makes time and space
make sense
in this place,
in this moment,
in this now?

(always worrisome)

always worrisome:
unexplained droplets on the
floor next to the john

Tennessean previews my latest project

Photographer Robert McCurley has asked Randy Foster and me to collaborate on a photo-poetry project re: the Civil War.  Sneak a peek at The Tennessean's preview here.  More details to come!

(Miles Davis on tap)

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

(Christmas cat)

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.