It's Labor Day weekend here in the States, so I get a 3-day weekend with my sons and family reunions on both Sunday (in Northwest Indiana) and Monday (in Southwest Ohio). Woo-hoo!

Also, I want to remind y'all that the deadline for the Fake Bio Note contest is drawing near. So before you get too busy to enter, I suggest you go over, take a look at a few and then take a stab at entering your own fake bio note. It's free--and if yours is selected as the winner, you'll get a free copy of 2009 Poet's Market.

You must add your fake bio note to that actual post, though. So to make it easy on you, here's the URL for that post: http://blog.writersdigest.com/poeticasides/Fake+Bio+Note+Contest.aspx

Besides that, be safe and have fun this weekend!

For today's poetry prompt, let's write a poem about finding something. You can find an old award, photograph, or sense of humor. You can make it something funny, sad, or angry. In the process of finding something, I hope we all find ourselves with another poem.

Here's my attempt for the day:

"Goggles"

He discovered them half-covered by a bush
as he walked his dog in the morning. They were

lined with blue and looked brand new. But
no owner in sight. No sign of why they might

end up beneath a bush. His dog immediately
tried peeing on them, but he said, "No, Kilgore,"

and picked them up. Attached to the rubbery
strap was a note that read, "The man who picks

up these goggles will today meet the woman
of his dreams." "These goggles are not meant

for me, Kilgore," he said, "I'm not meeting any
one today." But he still carried the goggles back

to his apartment and laid them on his kitchen
countertop. Then, he got to work by writing

copy for his garden gnome stock photography
business. As he waited for a mail merge to finish,

he heard a knock on his door. Thinking it may
actually be the woman of his dreams, he grabbed

the goggles and opened the door. In fell a woman
who he'd dreamed about multiple times, a woman

he had never actually met until now. She was
struggling to breathe. "I looked for you at the bush,

but you weren't there," she said. "But I had work,"
he said, "I had spreadsheets and mail merges

to complete." "I don't want your excuses," she
said, "I want you to save me." So he did what

was needed. He put on the goggles, held her
close to him, and swam them both to safety.

This morning, I was contemplating different poetry delivery methods, thinking of the obvious ones first: print books, chapbooks, journals, broadsides, websites, blogs, e-mail, PDFs, CDs, DVDs, etc. And finally, I thought of text messaging.

On my cell, one page is defined as 160 characters, and I'm unable break my lines. So I started wondering if there might be a cool new poetic form to play with on a Tuesday morning. Of course, without line breaks, these would be miniature prose poems on any topic under the sun.

One additional rule that could be added (to help give these focus) is that they should deliver some message.

So to recap the rules: Poem must be 160 characters or less and deliver some message (and yes, a message could be delivered in one word).

Here's my quick attempt (at around 150 characters):

A boy and girl raced each other along the sidewalk this morning waiting for the school bus to pick them up. The days are growing short and shorter.

Sometimes, it's healthy to have a nice long rant about something. Ranting can become painful for those around you if it's all you ever do. But taken in moderation, it's a nice way to let off your own steam--and it can also open a window for others to let off their own steam (if they've experienced a similar situation). So why not apply the rant to poetry?

For this week's prompt, I want you to write a "rant" poem. You can discuss politics, religion, global events, weather patterns, that guy who cut you off on your way into work (not speaking from experience, mind you), or whatever.

Important note: I expect everyone to act like civilized human beings in the comments below and not attack each other over what they decide to rant about. If you wish to point out a spelling error or line break suggestion, that's one thing; but please, don't attack someone's political or religious views. On this blog, we are all poets.

With that said, here is my attempt for this prompt:

"It never fails"

It never fails: Always around eleven--
in the evening, mind you--there is a new
mother ushering her young children into
the laundromat, telling them to quit whining
and running around. Never fails, always a
different mother, around eleven. Now
I'm not one to stand on a pedestal or
pick up a nice stone for casting, but come on,
where are these mothers coming from, and where are
their husbands? But we all know the contents of
that Pandora's Box, don't we? Dad done run off
and left momma with the baby and mortgage
payment. Dad done run off and wash his greasy
hands. Always around eleven, a new mom
walks in and eyes me, wonders if I'm some Prince
Charming who's good with kids--after all, I fold
my own clothes and even Dad could not do that.
But it never fails: By the time that mother
labors into the laundromat, I'm folding
my clothes and trying my best to just get out.

Earlier this week, I received a long e-mail from an anonymous Poetic Asides reader who asked important questions I'm sure all poets have asked themselves at some point or another in their poetic development. Here's some of the e-mail:

"I want to put together a book of poetry. I have the subject already in mind. Here's the thing. I am a fly-by-night poet. I have a hard question for you. Do you think I have what it takes to make it as a poet from having read some of my work?

"I sent in six poems to a local competition this year and didn't make it even as an honorable mention. I also sent in five or six to the Writer's Digest competition in December. I haven't heard anything, so am assuming that I didn't make the cut. Now we are talking 100 poets who made it, and I didn't get there.

"Anyway, I turn to you in a moment of despair. I am feeling low and just want a crumb to pull me out of this mist. However, honesty is what I need."

And my honesty is what this poet will get.

First, I don't advise poets to try thinking about putting together books of poetry until they've published some individual poems. It's not that a poet can't do this, but by entering competitions, I'm assuming that a poet wants some kind of recognition, and publication is a great form of recognition.

Second, contests are great, but they are competitions, which means there are several other poets battling it out for the top poem(s). If Writer's Digest recognizes 100 poets, for instance, then they must receive thousands of entries for the competition. Keep in mind that most competitions produce a minority of winners and a majority of losers.

Third, I'd suggest spending less time entering competitions and instead submitting to online and print publications that publish poetry that fits your style. Yes, this means you should devote time to reading online and print journals to see what fits. (Note: This is also a great way to learn from what works and doesn't work in other poets' poems.)

Fourth, it sounds like you need involvement with other poets, whether online or in person. I would suggest trying to get a small critique group together, either by contacting other poets online or trying to do so locally--either through your local library or bookstore. You'd be surprised how many poets are all around us.

Finally, only you can say if you have what it takes to be a poet. Do you feel compelled to write poems even facing the possibility that no one will ever read your work? If so, you are and will always be a poet. Poetry is not a form of writing that will earn you much fortune and glory, so using recognition as your "poet worth" gauge is probably not the best idea.

However, recognition can be a powerful fuel for the poetic motor. So get involved with some other poets; read and submit to publications; and keep writing. The rest will take care of itself.

Apparently, poet Jack Hirschman's term has expired, and a new poet laureate for the city of San Francisco is sought.

Read the full story at: http://www.mercurynews.com/breakingnews/ci_10189562?nclick_check=1.

Nomination forms and even more poet laureate information are available at: http://sfpl.org/poetlaureate.htm.

Deadline for nominations is August 28, 2008.

If you're eligible, best of luck to you.

Quick update: The wedding (between myself and Tammy Trendle--now Tammy Brewer) went very, very well on Friday. It was attended by my baby brother Simon (the stormchaser), my mom, an old friend of the family, and my grandmother. We were married by my grandmother's boyfriend, who did a wonderful job. As luck--and a little skill on the part of my grandmother's boyfriend--would have it, I kissed the bride at 8:08 p.m. on 08/08/08.

We picked up our marriage license in Dandridge, Tennessee, around noon and were wed in my grandmother's backyard in unseasonably nice weather. No heat. No humidity. Wow!

Later in the evening, my other younger brother David (the computer whiz) and his fiancee showed up so that we could have a nice family weekend in the Smokies. Lots of other stuff happened, too, but the main points are that we got married; we had fun; and we bought lots of candy in Gatlinburg. Hope everyone else had a great weekend, too!

Some of you have asked over the past few months if I do or will teach any online courses. Well, after speaking with Joe Stollenwerk at www.writersonlineworkshops.com, I will start teaching some poetry courses online.

My Fundamentals of Poetry Writing course will begin on 9/18 and it should kick butt.

To learn more, including a description of the course, just go to http://www.writersonlineworkshops.com/retail/courses.aspx?r=fundamentals-of-poetry-writing.

As you'll see on the page, you can sign up for my class directly. And I think they cap the classes at 15 students--so thought I'd give y'all first crack at signing up.