A Teeny Tiny Blog

Three Poems Online in NAP

noreply@blogger.com (Amanda) — Thu, 19 Apr 2012 05:19:00 +0000

Three of my poems utilizing bits of text from books on backcountry hiking/camping just went online in NAP, a lit mag edited by Chad Redden. Thanks, Chad! I need to return to working on this series, I think, especially with hiking/camping season upon us.

Collage with a Piece of a Poem

noreply@blogger.com (Amanda) — Thu, 05 Apr 2012 16:50:00 +0000

This collage doesn't quite have a poem in it, or maybe it's just a micro-poem made of a single couplet. I haven't had much luck in directly combining poetry and collage, but now and then the intersections seem more direct as in this piece.

From a Thrift Score

noreply@blogger.com (Amanda) — Wed, 14 Mar 2012 22:44:00 +0000

I found a fun children's nonfiction book at the thrift store recently, an illustrated paperback from the 1970s with explanations about different everyday things like foods, metals, modes of transportation, etc. The book is supposedly about "How Things Are Made," but the little essays on different topics give all sorts of facts about their subjects. I'm not sure yet if these essays will inspire a whole series of found poems, but I've been working on a couple of poems so far, and here's one...

Untarnished

Carbon plus iron plus chromium
and maybe some nickel?

Stainless steel. It takes
a high polish and can resist

rust and acid. Kitchen knives,
door knobs, golf club heads

and fishing gear? Stainless steel.
We also use it for mirrors

when glass is too fragile.

Science-Inspired Art

noreply@blogger.com (Amanda) — Thu, 16 Feb 2012 18:59:00 +0000

Stacey Printz, a choreographer who has created work inspired by honeybees, directed me to this article from the San Francisco Chronicle which discusses her bee-related piece as well as some other pieces inspired by scientific topics (like string theory). I sent Stacey an email last week, and she sent a friendly reply and said she'd be glad to answer some questions.

I think the best idea might be to think of writing some bee essays in the size/format of my Teeny Tiny zine as this seems like the most low-key and fun way for me to go about a project.

A Long-Neglected Task, and Some Research

noreply@blogger.com (Amanda) — Thu, 09 Feb 2012 17:20:00 +0000

I've been meaning to add a page to my website with links to published nonfiction clips, and I finally did this last night. It's a pretty simple page, but hey, I'm pretty simplistic in my web-design skills.

This morning, I sent a query to a publication I haven't written for before, and we'll see how that goes. But if you never send a query, nothing new ever happens. I haven't sent a query in ages. The gig with EDGE fell into my lap via a craigslist ad; I didn't have to query--I only had to answer the ad.

I'm looking at different ideas for writing about bees and conceptualizing these ideas as article-sized pieces, so I'm also trying to think of possible markets for these articles. A weird thing about nonfiction contrasted with poetry is that with nonfiction you can actually conceive of a market for your work whereas with poetry it's more that you write the poem and see if maybe later it seems like it might be a fit for a certain magazine where maybe a couple other poets and maybe a couple of friends of yours might read it.

I did more research regarding Jonathon Keats and his Honeybee Ballet, and I also found an item on a choreographer who created a dance piece inspired by the dance of bees. And did you know there was a Nobel lecture in the 1970s on decoding the bees' movements?

It's interesting to me that we use the word "dance" in describing the movements that bees use to communicate; it kind of seems anthropomorphic of us, but at the same time, what other words are there to label communication through movement? I thought about sign language, but does "language" fit what the bees are doing when they move their bodies to indicate to other bees where, for example, to find a nice cache of pollen? The Nobel lecturer does use the word "language," so maybe both this word and "dance" are useful.

New and Improved?

noreply@blogger.com (Amanda) — Wed, 08 Feb 2012 16:59:00 +0000

Since I started this blog, I've only posted poems, but lately I've been writing a little nonfiction again, and I thought I'd expand the scope of the content that I post here. I used to write and publish nonfiction articles and reviews pretty regularly, and I've been getting into that again as I've written four reviews for an online publication called EDGE, most recently this review of Don Quixote at Pacific Northwest Ballet.

I also have an idea for a larger nonfiction project about honeybees, which would combine personal experience with research and interviews, and maybe a road trip or two for good measure (gotta get out and visit some of the honeybees of the western states). In talking about the project with my friend Mimi, she suggested I consider looking at the ways that bees have inspired art projects, and this morning I happened upon a project someone wrote about a few years ago called the Honeybee Ballet. Well, I think there could be an article or two to write about bees in art, and thank you, Mimi, for that train of thought.

Treading Lightly on the Earth

noreply@blogger.com (Amanda) — Thu, 12 May 2011 18:20:00 +0000

I had a burst of writing a few weeks ago but then haven't written a poem now for about a month. Well, here's something brand-new.

Treading Lightly

Bright fabrics of varying degrees
of stiffness are drying on wooden racks

in your spare room, in the sun
between yellow-orange curtains

chosen by your housemate. I remember
you love me when you leave me

a clean towel on the doorknob,
soft cotton from the electric dryer.

A little poem about keys

noreply@blogger.com (Amanda) — Fri, 10 Dec 2010 22:28:00 +0000

Familiar

Easy to grow attached to the feel
of their curves and notches,

every day their same weight
in our fingers. How long

can we last without changing
the locks? Shall we wear

ourselves smooth as house keys
held for years in front pockets?

Another Hay(na)ku

noreply@blogger.com (Amanda) — Fri, 26 Mar 2010 04:19:00 +0000

Made this little hay(na)ku card the other night with images and text from a Better Homes & Gardens book on flower arranging.

Often Replaced

noreply@blogger.com (Amanda) — Thu, 18 Mar 2010 22:26:00 +0000

Often Replaced
Originally uploaded by Mandy L.

Of the collage/poetry pieces I've done lately, I like this one the best. The image is from a magazine ad I painted over with some cream-colored paint. This is collaged onto a piece of a cereal box, around 4x4 inches in size.

This blog has moved

noreply@blogger.com (Amanda) — Thu, 18 Mar 2010 01:54:00 +0000

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Another Poem and Collage

noreply@blogger.com (Amanda) — Thu, 18 Mar 2010 01:15:00 +0000

More text from an old Family Circle and image from a book of photos of Washington. I like this image of the road so much that I really didn't want to alter it in any way, so it seemed like a good idea just to shape a tiny poem for it.

A Collage and a Poem

noreply@blogger.com (Amanda) — Tue, 16 Mar 2010 17:17:00 +0000

Two tiny stanzas of hay(na)ku, collaged onto a trading-card-sized piece of recycled paperboard. The text is from a 1941 issue of The Family Circle, and the images are from a book of pictures of Washington state and a magazine that I painted over.

Poem for Daylight Savings Time

noreply@blogger.com (Amanda) — Sat, 13 Mar 2010 18:30:00 +0000

This one's untitled. By "fire horse," I mean the Chinese zodiac element and animal. I know a few fire horses, but I'm thinking of one in particular here. :)

Your fiery nature
might burn
low,

oh,
but never
burns out, dearest

fire horse, pedaling
your bicycle
uphill

out
of winter,
into spring again.

On Depression

noreply@blogger.com (Amanda) — Sat, 16 Jan 2010 17:28:00 +0000

I don't write a whole lot about depression, but now and then I do...

Unipolar

My brain is a director who prefers
film noir, sets me up

with femme fatales and says
action. Play of shadows

and harsh light, setting
of dark alleys and street corners

where taxis won’t pull over.
Neon signs keep blinking

from shorts in the wiring.

A Little Morning Poem from Last Weekend

noreply@blogger.com (Amanda) — Mon, 04 Jan 2010 17:05:00 +0000

Good Morning

I talked so loudly she said
she tried shushing my discussions

from her dream, waking
to realize the noise all came

from me, two sides of an argument,
two parts of me she’d never seen.

I hope next time she’ll wake me.

Dear Blog, I Haven't Forgotten You

noreply@blogger.com (Amanda) — Tue, 10 Nov 2009 19:52:00 +0000

So I've been writing some new poems, but I haven't posted one here since August. Figured it was about time to post one then. This is brand-new, wrote it the other day and revised it this morning...

Unlimited Nights and Weekends

You could be anywhere. You’re calling
from a parking lot, not
someplace you meant to be
but the eye of, before and after

your real Sunday, your errands
and obligations with strangers
to me. Most evenings after nine
you call from bed, and I crawl

into mine, where I try
to resist talking your tired ear off
but fail miserably. I can accept
the consolation prize: your voice

for another five minutes,
scolding me for another too-late night.

Something from High School

noreply@blogger.com (Amanda) — Mon, 10 Aug 2009 21:32:00 +0000

OK, my favorite favorite favorite Pet Shop Boys song is the duet they did with Dusty Springfield, "What Have I Done to Deserve This" (if you want a treat, go and watch that video on YouTube; it always makes me feel good), but I have a bit of a soft spot for their remake of "Always on My Mind," hence the title of this poem... So yeah, here's a nostalgic poem.

Always on My Mind

Chorus after chorus, layers
of indistinguishable beats. I couldn’t tell

the Pet Shop Boys were gay
even when they played

love songs to each other.
I didn’t know gay people except

two math teachers with very short hair
but they weren’t for sure.

Culled from My Notebook

noreply@blogger.com (Amanda) — Sun, 05 Jul 2009 19:29:00 +0000

I started drafting this in April and forgot about it but found it in my notebook last night and tried to tighten it up. Sorry for the lack of posts; this reflects a lack of writing.

No Original Thoughts

Just my old ones
and several of yours

remixed and repetitive
as extended dance versions

which ruin pop songs.

Recycled Beauties: Poem from Collage

noreply@blogger.com (Amanda) — Sun, 24 May 2009 22:01:00 +0000

I made a 12-page collaged booklet using (among other things) images and text from a book of pin-ups. The poem below is a reconfiguring of the text which makes up the booklet: each page in the booklet has a few lines on it, and here I've condensed and changed a bit.

Recycled Beauties

Not movie stars, much more than
sleek limbs followed by
countless others, these girls

who are now elderly women,
girls of a specific time,
a specific war, still promise

a wonderful postwar world.
Things are peaceful where
they wear sheer dressing gowns

or nothing at all.

Attempting a Ramage

noreply@blogger.com (Amanda) — Sun, 05 Apr 2009 06:24:00 +0000

Earlier this week, I happened upon a used copy of a tiny book called Turkish Pears in August by Robert Bly, and in it, he uses a form he developed called the "ramage" in which you have 8 lines of roughly 10 syllables each, and each line is also supposed to contain a repeated sound/syllable. OK, so below I am trying to repeat a sound like "air." I like trying to repeat a sound without using end rhyme; I try to do this anyway but not so specifically as trying to do it in every line. I may experiment more with this form, as an exercise to get myself writing if nothing else!

Cheers

Mortgaged as everywhere, our suburb
is sometimes carefree. For example, take me—
I bake brownies and bid for rare knick-knacks
on eBay, in a pair of plaid pajamas
until two or three. I do laundry when I dare
let it air-dry on warm afternoons
as I sit in my plastic chair. I sip
tap water or beer—come on by, and I’ll share.

Grapho Analysis

noreply@blogger.com (Amanda) — Mon, 30 Mar 2009 23:36:00 +0000

I've been working on some poems inspired by Uncensored, a pretty trashy mag from the 1960s. The issues I have (thank you, eBay) are from 1961, but this link will show you some ads from an issue from the late 1960s. I realized I haven't shared any of these poems on the blog yet, so here's one:

Please Reply in Your Normal Hand

Friends, I’ve advised thousands
like yourselves who want

to learn my kind of expert work
as a full-time job or dignified means

of extra income. I want
to send you, without charge,

a window to your personality
to acquaint you with this

science, an analysis of character
revealed through handwriting.

Ode to Belinda Carlisle

noreply@blogger.com (Amanda) — Tue, 24 Feb 2009 18:39:00 +0000

Next to The Bangles, I think I loved Belinda Carlisle and The Go-Gos the best--OK, well, I still do...

Dear Belinda Carlisle

For as many weeks as you are
on Dancing with the Stars
I’ll give all my votes to you

though I’ll forever think of you
all in black, maybe a pair
of gold hoop earrings, nothing

like the spangles and colors
the producers will make you wear
as you dance with a gentleman

instead of the women I remember.

An Ode to Grrrls

noreply@blogger.com (Amanda) — Sat, 21 Feb 2009 20:23:00 +0000

I don't suppose I was ever exactly a "grrrl" because I was busy watching old movies when others were going to concerts and making zines and stuff. But I'm hoping this new poem will fit into a series I've been working on for some time now that involves different first-person perspectives...

When We Were Grrrls

Ears ringing, all smiles
in the mosh pit, the opposite

of violence, sweltering
in the crush of strangers’ bodies

in our pact that nothing
but silence can scare us

that it’s best to shout
all we have into the static

of voices that shout back at us.

Finally, Another Tiny Poem

noreply@blogger.com (Amanda) — Sat, 24 Jan 2009 19:23:00 +0000

I've been reading about this winter's weather troubles, and here's a very tiny poem on the subject.

After

Swans gather on lakes
formed in the flood. Horses
step from their trailers.
Pruning blueberries, we ignore
our strawberries gone under.