SHORT, NOT SO SWEET

"My time will come!"--


and go.

Poet's Nightmare # 2807

A triumph! Even my most trifling poems
go over well--"BEAUTIFUL!"--CLAP CLAP
CLAPPITY CLAP--the applause led,
I notice, by the fierce-eyed gaunt man,
second-row-left, who, afterwards, corners me,
heartily shakes my hand and tells me how
terrific my poems are and that he is the
reincarnation of Jesus Christ, Commander
and Chief of the Galactic Fleet, etc.
(Reader! Where ARE you!)
___________________

Note: This did happen at a reading I gave. Poetry readings are usually small enough affairs that one loud applauder can ignite an audience (as one person coughing sparks coughs all over the room), and give the poet the impression he's a tremendous hit. When the source of all this adulation reveals himself (leaning close, with awful and relentless breath) as [here enter your favorite clever expression for "nuts" that is also somehow politically correct]--when that occurs, it's a let-down. It shouldn't be. It's a sign that the poet's communication is powerful. Otherwise why this attempt to grab a share of it? That's what is going on here. This guy is a vacuum for power, and sucks up to it, trying to have some.

Of course, if he's less obviously nuts, seeming to be just an intelligent person who likes your work, he can be more dangerous. He can come into your life with "constructive criticism" and promise of introduction to important people and leave you feeling sucked as dry as a month-old orange peel.

REGARDING EMAILS: The next week or so I'm going to have almost no time for e-mail, though I'll keep sending poems. I simply won't be able to answer all your e-mails for about a week. Eventually I will.

Dean Blehert
dean@blehert.com
dblehert@verizon.net
www.blehert.com

IT'S IN THE AIR

Clear fall day--
even the evergreens
want to change.
__________________

One reader, singer-songwriter (among other talents) Christopher Quinn wrote of yesterday's poem "One of the best excerpted lines I have ever read would be - "our dreams the fugitive caves of light in the night." I mention this to share with him credit for the following poem--that passage:

Our dreams
the fugitive caves of light
in the night.
________________

Dean Blehert
dean@blehert.com
dblehert@verizon.net
www.blehert.com

Caves of Light

My long black shadow each morning
mourning its lost kingdom,
is pursued into hiding by the usurper,
becomes by noon no one, gathers
its forces, by evening gets even,
extends over the world, all our shadows
joined, our dreams the fugitive caves
of light in the night.

Note: I love almost-invisible puns, like "each morning mourning," "by noon no one" and "by evening gets even," where the context and sense are strong enough to overshadow (more shadows!) the wordplay. Puns are too often dismissed as "the lowest form of humor," clowns cavorting to earn groans, verbal farts. It's fun to see if I can make them classy. (Or at least less embarrassing, silent, but deadly.)

I didn't try to include night's dark knight. Too obvious. Well, so is morning's mourning, but it makes good sense here. On the other hand, for some reason the visual link between noon and no one is rarely noted, nor the fact that evening IS an evening, since the settling of darkness does soften and even out colors, distances and outlines. There's a fine old word for this: Eventide, the evening a tide flowing over us from east to west.

Speaking of bad puns, every time I turn on the news and hear about the latest political plans for inventing money, I imagine a political seducer twirling his pomaded mustache and saying with a leer, "Hey, Babe, wanna see my stimulus package!"
__________________________

The second poem I sent out yesterday started: "Sme are in jail, the rest"--"Sme" should have been "Some" so that the poem should have been:

Some are in jail, the rest
under house arrest.
Nightly the authorities inspect
for dream tunnels.
________________

Dean Blehert
dblehert@verizon.net
dean@blehert.com
www.blehert.com

RECESS PERIOD

Two poems today--one for Monday and one for Tues:

"You seem depressed."
"No, just recessed."
________

Sme are in jail, the rest
under house arrest.
Nightly the authorities inspect
for dream tunnels.
________

Note on the first of them: Interesting how "recession," a glum word, relates to "recess," a hollow place or niche in a wall, but also time off from work or school, time to play (how unglum) or to be beat up in an obscure corner of the playground by the class bully (not so unglum).

IN TWO PREVIOUS MESSAGES I BOTCHED THE BLOG ADDRESSES. First I wrote them with an @ instead of a dot. Then I wrote them correctly, but somehow my software retained the old pointers, so that they didn't take you to the blogs. This time they'll work. Here they are:

deanotations.blogspot.com
dearreader08.blogspot.com

I particularly hope some of you will check out the second one. It's got some interesting essays and poems, I think, but few have looked at them (poor promotion). It's getting lonely there.

Dean Blehert
dblehert@verizon.net
dean@blehert.com
www.blehert.com

It's UNIMAGINABLE!

We say, "It's unimaginably terrible,"
and yet people with imaginations
very like our own manage to suffer it.
How odd it must be for them,
unable to imagine what they suffer.

Note: "Unimaginable" (which we use to convey an understanding and an imagining) is one of a large group of words that we use to mean almost the opposite of what they mean. For example, we now say that something we believe is unbelievable! or incredible! In other words, if someone says "That's incredible!" he is validating it as something he credits. Up until about 100 years ago--and later for many people--if you said something was incredible, you meant that it was a lie, a fantasy, something no sane person would believe. For example, the criminal would tell obvious lies, and the prosecutor would refer scornfully to the criminal's "incredible" statements. When someone talks about something good he's done or realized, and someone else says "That's incredible!" I am tempted (snobbishly) to say, "No, I believe it."

CORRECTION: In a recent e-mail, I invited people to check out (or possibly subscribe to) my two blogs, but gave the wrong names to them. Since you are reading this, probably that error needn't concern you, but in case it was confusing, I wrote (incorrectly):

deanotations@blogspot.com. ON this blog I post short poems and short commentaries/essays.

Dearreader08@blogspot.com. On this blog I post longer poems and essays.

The correct blog URLs are:

deanotations.blogspot.com.
Dearreader08.blogspot.com.

Sorry about that.

Dean Blehert
dblehert@verizon.net
dean@blehert.com
www.blehert.com

The Saddest Words of Tongue or Pen

[Re-sent to correct formating of a poem]


There are sadder sayings than
"It might have been."
No one should ever have to say,
"But I'm a GOOD person!"

Note: The first 2 lines above refer to lines from a poem by John Greenleaf Whittier: "For of all sad words of tongue or pen, the saddest are these; It might have been." The poem above is rather sad. Elsewhere, in a sillier and wittier variation on Whittier I have written (in a long poem about the imaginary failed love-life of Ben Franklin) the following stanza:

[After the woman says he lacks the knack...]

He pleads, "I'd learn with your help, Ma'am!"
"Franklin, my Dear, I don't give a damn!"
(No matter that he whined and whined --
The lady would not change her mind:
The saddest words of tongue or pen
Are simply these: She'll not have Ben.)

Note on the note: "Franklin, my Dear, I don't give a damn!" echoes what Rhett Butler (or Clark Gable) says to Scarlett O'Hara (or Vivienne Leigh) when, near the end of Gone With the Wind, he finally has the good sense to walk out on her. He says "Frankly, my Dear, I don't give a damn" (hope I have the wording right). That was an exciting line in the 1938 movie, when "damn" was still a rarity on screen.
________________________

Since advertising is mostly repetition, here, again, is the data on my new book and our other products:

A 2009 calendar that Pam created, using 12 of her paintings (seasonally appropriate).

A coloring book Pam created out of a long poem I wrote for children, called "The Doll's Journey." It's actually a poem for children and adults--at least has been enjoyed by a fair sampling of both.

The first volume of what will be a 6-volume set of the complete DEANOTATIONS. The first volume is Deanotations issues 1 thru 20 plus some additional poetry related to one of the issues plus a new introduction by me and some notes on the poems. The poems are in their original format with all of Pam's drawings, as originally printed in Deanotatons. The volume is perfect-bound, about 130 pages (which is a lot of poetry, since the pages are 2-column. Background: From 1984 through 2004 -- 20 years -- I published my poetry letter, DEANOTATIONS, just my poems and Pam's drawings. These poetry letters went out to hundreds of subscribers (and, for a time, to thousands). Now the first 20 (of 110) issues is available in book form, with the others to follow later this year.

To order any of these new products, you can either go to http://www.lulu.com/ and search on "Blehert" (which brings up all of them) or email me. There are two advantages to getting them from me directly: 1) Autograph(s). 2) Lulu apparently mails orders Priority. I can mail them media mail, saving you a few dollars. On the other hand, ordering them on the web from Lulu is quick and convenient.

By the way, if you're already a Deanotations fan, please write a review on Lulu.com.

If you're curious to see what an issue of Deanotations looks like, there are samples on our web site at http://www.blehert.com/poems/deanot.html

Best,

Return of the daily short poem! And new book out.

I have some new products (poetry) to tell you about, but first a few poems, to get us started again (after which, most days, I'll send just one).

The shifting frowns of people on a bus:
Life goes on pleasing and displeasing us
as if that were its purpose.
_____

When you die, you want to think
something is ending, but everything
goes on. It's like leaving a party:
Most people there are waiting
for something interesting to happen,
but they wait so noisily,
that those who leave always feel
they're leaving in the middle of everything.
______

Why can't we keep things nice!
Look here! Someone keeps leaving
messy finger marks in the nice even
coat of dust on this tabletop.
______

I saw a butterfly stitch the sky,
but could not find the seam.
______

The parking lot is full. Damned car!
I can't take you anywhere!
______

Love, I would write poems to you
were you not, wherever I am,
the space wherein I write.
___________________

I mentioned that we (Pam and I) have some new products. They are:

A 2009 calendar that Pam created, using 12 of her paintings (seasonally appropriate).

A coloring book Pam created out of a long poem I wrote for children, called "The Doll's Journey." It's actually a poem for children and adults--at least has been enjoyed by a fair sampling of both.

The first volume of what will be a 6-volume set of the complete DEANOTATIONS. The first volume is Deanotations issues 1 thru 20 plus some additional poetry related to one of the issues plus a new introduction by me and some notes on the poems. The poems are in their original format with all of Pam's drawings, as originally printed in Deanotatons. The volume is perfect-bound, about 130 pages (which is a lot of poetry, since the pages are 2-column. Background: From 1984 through 2004 -- 20 years -- I published my poetry letter, DEANOTATIONS, just my poems and Pam's drawings. These poetry letters went out to hundreds of subscribers (and, for a time, to thousands). Now the first 20 (of 110) issues is available in book form, with the others to follow later this year.

Many of the poems I've been sending out as daily poems were originally in Deanotations. (Not that I don't have more recent work. I'm moving forward chronologically as an easy way of keeping track of what I've sent out.)

To order any of these new products, you can either go to www.lulu.com and search on "Blehert" (which brings up all of them) or email me. There are two advantages to getting them from me directly: 1) Autograph(s). 2) Lulu apparently mails orders Priority. I can mail them media mail, saving you a few dollars. On the other hand, ordering them on the web from Lulu is quick and convenient.

By the way, if you're already a Deanotations fan, please write a review on Lulu.com.

If you're curious to see what an issue of Deanotations looks like, there are samples on our web site at www.blehert.com/poems/deanot.html

For years (approx. Aug., 2001, through Feb., 2006) I sent out a daily short poem to hundreds of people (sometimes as many as 3,000).

In Feb., 2006, I got very busy and for much of the next two years had almost no time for e-mail. When I did have time for e-mail, I spent it handling huge e-mail backlogs (still a few thousand to handle! I may owe some of you answers. However, in the past 10 months I've caught up on most of my backlog.

Now I'm going to resume my mailing of a daily short poem (by me, though I'll consider the work of anyone else named Dean Blehert).

Besides this blog (for short poems), I also publish longer poems and/or essays on
Dearreader08@blogspot.com. I hope you'll check it out.

If you'd like to look over the previous short poems I've sent out, you'll find them, as well as a great deal more of my poetry and essays (and my wife, Pam's, paintings and poetry) on www.blehert.com. You can also hear us read our poems from this site.

All the poetry on the site can be reached from www.blehert.com/poems/poetry.html.

The short poems emailed earlier can be found at www.blehert.com/poems/poem-a-day-2001.htm for 2001. For the other years, just change 2001 to 2002, 2003, 2004, 2005 or 2006.

To listen to me reading some of my poems, try www.blehert.com/audio/deanaudio/dean_audiopoems.html.

If you feel like sending a poem I send you to others, please do so. Just include my name and contact info. If you feel others would enjoy my daily mailings, please let me know, and I'll send an introductory message and add that person(s) to my list.

Of course, I'm giving away all the poetry you can eat faster than you can swallow, so why buy a book of my poems? To have on a shelf? As a gift for others? For more convenient reading while at the dinner table or in the bathroom, for taking on the road, for use as a door-stop... Also, in case you hate the poems, it's far more satisfying to have a nice, solid book you can tear apart and burn, than simply to ask off a mailing list.

So go, now, Dear Readers, and spend your days reading my daily poems, my website, my books, my blogs...I'm sure you have nothing else important to do. (This is the My-Generation. My Oh My!)

A Tale of Several Cities

A Tale of Several Cities

He brought to the university
A voracity for veracity
And the felicity
Of velocity.

He graduated with a paucity
Of focused ferocity
And a resigned complicity
In numb necessity.

Coquette

Coquette

She employs with expert ease
the expertise
of an expert tease.

Infinite Importance

Each spider's web is the center of the universe.
Our cat knows that nothing I can do is as important
as dragging a feather on the rug for her to attack.
The most degraded, most self-abasing,
obsequious, ignored people are holding
most tenaciously to the certainty
that each is the most important person
in the universe. If they hide this from us,
it's with a scathing inner "if only they knew!"

One can't always succeed, be brilliant, popular,
virtuous – but one can always be important,
covertly important. Who can argue
with infinite importance?
________________

p.s. The poem of the past few days come to you as if from Pam (my wife). They are Dean's poems. Just a snafu with the set-up.

Getting Real

I produce two weekly reality shows.
On the first show, I star, sitting
on the toilet for half an hour,
reading a book. None of my naughty parts
show, but you know they are there.

The second show (immediately following)
is of the Candid Camera variety:
The hidden camera shows
people sitting on a couch for half an hour,
watching a TV show where a man
sits on a toilet, reading a book.

I don't watch such shows myself.
I prefer to read.

Posted by Dean Blehert