Today is the first day of October. We're also more than a week into my favorite season of the year--Autumn!

For today's prompt, I'd like you to try writing an Autumn Poem. That is, write a poem that evokes autumn for you. For different poets, this will mean different things.

Here's what it means for me:

"Ohio Autumns"

Homecoming queens and kings parade
through the city streets as the cross
country runners splash through the mud.

Quarterbacks play action pass their
way to the hearts of every
available cute cheerleader

without a date on Saturday
evening. The Drum Majors lead
their bands to cohesiveness so

the audience can applaud one
more successful halftime--one more
getting from here to there, and red

cards fly at the soccer games. Those
cross country runners follow white
lines to find the place to finish.

 

Okay, this question has been coming up a lot recently in the comments section of this blog: What counts as previously published? And, in relation to this blog, does posting a poem in the comments of this blog mean it's "published"?

Before I begin, I think it would be beneficial for you to read this post from former co-blogger and Poet's Market editor Nancy Breen about the whole publishing question in "Published is Published!"

For Individual Poems

Many editors consider anything published anywhere at any time under any circumstances as published. This can even include public readings. And if a publication specifies what they consider published in their guidelines, it would behoove a poet (or any writer really) to respect the editor's considerations.

With such editors, a poem posted anywhere counts as publication, whether it's posted in a public forum or blog, or even a private, password-protected location online. In such cases, poems posted on this blog would be considered "previously published." However, there are editors who take a slightly different view.

Some editors consider a poem unpublished if it only displays on a personal blog and/or is in a "draft" form in a forum or blog. That is, if your poem on Poetic Asides is only a rough draft and not the final version, it would not be considered "previously published." If editors do not specify what they consider previously published, there's a good chance they fall into this camp.

For Poetry Collections

Except for rare cases, most editors/publishers of poetry collections accept previously published poems as long as the collection itself has not been previously published. Actually, the fact that poems are previously published usually helps in getting the collection published. That said, do NOT try to use poems posted on a personal blog or public forum as a publishing credit. Such credits hold little weight, since there is usually no screening process, because eveyone can get published.

My main point here is that individual poems that are considered published by journals can still be considered unpublished as components of a poetry collection. And that even individual poems that are considered published are welcome in "original" collections of poems.

In fact, "new collections" can be made from selecting poems from previous full-length collections and chapbooks.

So, How Should Poets Proceed?

Armed with your knowledge of what is and is not considered published, you've just got to pick your battles and act accordingly. For instance, most of my poems are not published on my blog, because I want to have as many publishing options available to me as possible. I share drafts of these "unpublished" poems with close poet friends to solicit feedback for revisions.

The poems I post as parts of prompts, I consider "published," though I would not use it as a publishing credit if I tried including any of them in a collection, because I also consider my poems on this blog to be "vanity publication credits." I make an informed decision to write a poem a week just for the act of creation.

Considering how much money most published poets make anyway, I don't view this as such a bad decision. But every poet has to make this decision on their own.

 

On Monday, I'm going to be making the "big move" down to Atlanta to live with my wife and stepson. Luckily, F+W has been really supportive of allowing me to telecommute from my new home office. Still, it is a big move and will create a huge change in my typical routine.

For today's prompt, I want you to write a poem about a big change in your routine. Everyone experiences them. For instance, big changes could be getting a job, having a child, surviving a traumatic event, first day of school, making a friend, etc. If you want, you could even write about a series of big changes that are kicked off by a small change.

Here's my attempt for the day:

"Ohio"

I've always thought about you, the way you
greet people with an "O" and "o," as if
you're at first impressed and then deflated.

I know the feeling. We all do with our
buckeye necklaces and assembly line
hangovers, our empty factories where
our mothers and fathers used to march, signs
clenched in their hands, firm lines across their mouths.

If it seems that I am leaving you, please
don't think I'll use an "o" to explain you
to others. For me, you're always an "O."

 

So as part of my upcoming move from Southwest Ohio to Northwest Georgia, I've been interested in what the poetry scene is like in the Atlanta area. And lucky for me, there is a website dedicated to poetry events in the area.

The site is called Poetry Atlanta, Inc., and it was created by Dan Veach, editor of the Atlanta Review. If you're interested, check it out at http://www.poetryatlanta.blogspot.com.

So that got me wondering about other areas, and here's a short list of calendars from particular cities:

For NYC, there's the ultimate NYC poetry calendar by Marc Rubin at http://www.poetz.com/calendar.

For Chicago, there's C.J. Laity's http://chicagopoetry.com.

And then, there is the Poetix poetry calendar for Southern California at http://www.poetix.net/calendar.htm.

*****

If you have up-to-date poetry calendars from other areas, please share them with everyone in the comments below. Thanks!

 

This interview came about from an earlier interview with poet and actress Hélène Cardona. Sometime in June, Hélène mentioned that John M. FitzGerald's most recent collection, Telling Time by the Shadows (Turning Point), was actually a collection of secret love poems written by him to her.

"These are the poems John wrote when we first met," says Hélène. "We met at a reading he did at Beyond Baroque in Venice. After that we communicated through poetry, sending each other poems by mail or e-mail for the longest time before we even had a date. It's a very 18th century story."

Needless to say, I was definitely intrigued. John originally sent his poems to Hélène as "prayer poems," so as not to let on they were to her. Eventually, the secret broke, and they both went on to live happily ever after.

FitzGerald, a dual citizen of the United States and Ireland, has published in numerous journals and anthologies. Spring Water, a novel in verse, was a Turning Point Books prize selection in 2005. His other collections include The Mind, The Charter of Effects, Question Creation and The Zeroth Law. He recently completed his first novel, Primate, and turned it into a screenplay.

Here's a poem from Telling Time by the Shadows:

"Magus"

I would be one of the wanderers,
with heaven watching.
Observe, you reflections, I glance away.

Notice the wonder spring forth in ancientness,
steep the spell held in spices, hypnotized.
In dreams I descend twenty steps at a time,

am afraid how I'll land if I fly too high.
I try not to say I, and claim myself,
a sign of consciousness uncovering.

Who calls me, from such transience?
We will ourselves into vastness,
like children at graves,

a wind with just one chance to blow,
both toward and away from itself in surprise,
or life is waste.

There are shooting stars, then that which lingers,
even hovers like a hawk, a halo, a messenger.
None can bear looking straight into the sun.

We see it reflect off the ocean by day, the moon at night.
Imagine someone's sun fly away.
What must it search for, in its burning?

Galaxies witness it bursting through silence.
May it hover to the end in spite of where it finds itself.
Let innocence cling to the universe, swirling,

get high and go hungry, distill our minds
till we can't control what pours from inside,
and at heart remain addicts, ever humble.

 

And with that, let's get into the interview:

What are you currently up to?

 

I recently finished a new manuscript of poetry, The Zeroth Law. It's actually more of a cross between poetry and literary nonfiction that compares the beliefs of the world’s major religions to history, myth and science.

 

You're in a relationship with poet Hélène Cardona. So I'm wondering if you could share what it's like to be in a relationship with another poet?

 

Hélène is great. She is the love of my life and my best friend and a pleasure to be around. People say we're joined at the hip. I'm not so sure that being in a relationship with another poet is so different than being in a relationship with a person in any other occupation. You have to make time for both the vocational and creative aspects of life, while continuing to recognize the things that brought you together in the first place. I was used to being alone to write and it took some adjustment for me. But it helps that we have a lot of the same interests and can bounce things off of one another. And it helps that she is brilliant, too.

 

Your collection Telling Time by the Shadows is actually a collection of "secret" love poems you wrote to Cardona, which you called Prayer Poems at the time. Could you re-cap a little on how this developed, including when/how Cardona finally learned their actual purpose?

 

Yes. It's a collection of poems of love and longing. I first met Hélène when she approached me after a reading I did at Beyond Baroque, in Venice. She told me how great my poems were, and of course, I was immediately stunned by her presence. As time went on, we kept meeting again and again at local poetry events. We talked and exchanged poems.

 

But Hélène is an impressive person. I was always certain that it was only the poetry she was interested in, rather than me in a romantic sense. We began to meet and take very long walks along the beach, from Santa Monica to Malibu, almost daily. During these walks we would hardly speak at all. We would then each return to our separate homes, and send each other poems and letters by e-mail and post.

 

At that time, as it happened, I was working on what I then referred to as "The Prayer Poems." These were prayers in the traditional sense, that they were directed toward a deity. But in these poems, God is really a woman.

 

In your own opinion, what makes for a good "secret" love poem?

 

I think a good secret love poem is one that is universal. You cannot give yourself away completely. Hélène actually began to hope the poems were about her.

 

 

You work as an attorney, which I'm sure eats up a lot of time and can be psychologically draining. How do you balance your poetry with your day job?

 

I write every night. It's just a matter of habit. I wouldn't feel normal if I didn't do it.

 

 

Could you explain what inspired Spring Water (Turning Point), a novel in verse about the life of a serial killer?

 

When I was in law school, I read a number of cases in criminal law and criminal procedure, in which defendants being tried for murder raised the defense of insanity, stating that God, or the devil had told them to kill. But the case that stuck with me the most did not arise in the context of crimes, but in the context of wills and trusts. It was the infamous Tylenol case, to which we now owe the tamper-proof cap.

 

In this sad case, a newlywed couple was called on their honeymoon in Hawaii, and informed that the groom's brother had suddenly and unexpectedly died. The couple cut their honeymoon short, and returned for the funeral. After the ceremony, there was a reception held at the home of the deceased. Both the new husband and wife took the very same Tylenol, and died within an hour of one another. Since they both had wills leaving everything to the other, the issue was which one to enforce. The killer was never caught. That really stuck with me.

 

You have lived in England, Italy, and Santa Monica. I'm going to put you on the spot and ask which is your favorite place to live and why?

 

Santa Monica. I love it here. I was born here. But I'm also a citizen of Ireland. I lived England 2 years and couldn't wait to come home. But now I sort of miss it, and will make it a point to go back – for a visit. My mother's side of the family has a vineyard in Amorosi, near Naples. It's pretty great there too. But since you said "live," I'm sticking with Santa Monica, for now. Who knows, I might feel the need to move to Ireland, depending on who wins the election.

 

As a follow-up question, do you think travel helps with the poetic writing process?

 

I'm sure that anything outside the ordinary, everyday experience must help with the creative process. As beautiful as Santa Monica is, you can only write about the beach so many times before you bore yourself to television.

 

If you could share only one piece of advice with other poets, what would it be?

 

Read, read, read.

 

*****

 

Check out Turning Point Books at http://www.turningpointbooks.com.

 

Check out John's website at http://jmfitzgerald.com.

 

And finally, check out Cardona's website at http://www.helenecardona.com.

 

*****

 

Poetic Asides is loaded with great poet interviews. To view them all, go to: http://blog.writersdigest.com/poeticasides/CategoryView,category,Poet%20Interviews.aspx.

 

As mentioned in an earlier post, Southwest Ohio was beat up by a wind storm that had hurricane force winds. Earlier in the weekend, I assured my sons that Ohio never experiences hurricanes (we just have twisters to contend with usually), but by Sunday evening daddy was proved wrong (once again).

Anyway, for this week's prompt, I want you to write a poem about something that would make you happy. For me, that would be getting electricity at home again (been without since early Sunday afternoon). For someone else, that may be a trip to Paris or a visit from a loved one or a teleportation machine (with the gas prices these days, it would sure come in handy).

Here's my silly attempt for the week:

"Electricity"

Without you, I'm propping a flashlight's glare
into the corner above the shower
to clean myself in almost warm water
before charging my cell phone in the car
on my way into work. I am sorry
I took you for granted. Please come back soon.

 

Okay, I've been in hiding recently because so many poets have been hounding me over who is the winner of the first ever fake bio contest on Poetic Asides. The great thing about this contest is that writers didn't need to have any "real" credits to enter--just a great imagination of what they'd like to have in their bio notes. That said, the competition was fierce--with many entrants owning impressive "real" bios.

Anyway, the judging was difficult, especially as I got closer and closer to narrowing down the field to 8 finalists from which to pick the winner. To build the suspense and share some of the fake bios I found most interesting, here are the 7 finalists who did not win:

Pris Campbell's poetry book, Sucky Relationships, was just turned into an award-winning movie, directed by Clint Eastwood. She will be featured on Dr. Phil and Oprah where she'll moderate participant's arguments about which partner sucked the most. She is currently being sued by all six of her ex-husbands who demand parts in the movie as their award. She lives with her pet monkey on an island off of Maine where she's hard at work on a sequel. Jib-Jab plans to spearhead a drive to make her poet laureate for 'making poetry relevant to the people' again.

 

Pris Campbell |camprisAT NOSPAMbellsouth dot net

 

*****

 

Kellian Angelou is famous and well-known for winning the Pullet's Surprise, the No Bell Piece Prize, and the Mack Arthur Genie Grant for her poetry collection exploring the uncertainty of scales, The Waistland. The Waistland is a corset of sonnets dealing with the tragic difficulty of being a size 14 in a world of zeros. Kellian received her MFA from the I-Owe-ya Writers Workshop. She currently lives with her wild emu, Walt, in the Northwest.

 

Kelli Agodon |kelliAT NOSPAMagodon dot com

 

*****

 

Caili Wilk has been awarded the Emily Dickinson accolade for her upcoming work titled, “I am so old”. At age 32, this will be her first award for poetry; however as a teenager she received a bronze certificate for her entry into the middle school song contest. Miss Wilk is most well known for her attempt to break the world record for typing out the letter P on a keyboard; however, after 5,328,685 times, she collapsed muttering “I need to pee”. Inconsequently, she retired to her bathroom, and has not been seen in public since developing severe typophobia.

 

Caili Wilk |cailiwilkAT NOSPAMgmail dot com

 

*****

 

Robert McDermott was intended to be the reincarnation of Robert Lowell but owing to a clerical error is actually the reincarnation of John Berryman. His poetry is quite remarkable and is easily the best on his ward. He is currently writing an opera about oranges and in his next life he wants to be a Shakespearean villain. His latest collection 'In conversation with Kilgore Trout' has attracted wide praise and is available in spirit everywhere.

 

Robert McDermott |robertmcdermottAT NOSPAMgmail dot com

 

*****

 

Odoacer Pinkyring Moses de la Salle Cuthbert-Jones is that weird guy who lives in the van parked across the street from your house. He is allergic to everything, especially air and water. His most recent book, the title of which is unpronounceable in any human language, spent 30 seconds at the top of the best seller list in the Autonomous Republic of Erewhon. One day he will destroy you all.

 

Matthew Falk |mdfalkAT NOSPAMsvsu dot edu

 

*****

 

Jonathan Pinnock is the author of "Apathy: A 21st Century Manifesto". He'd tell you more about himself if he could be bothered.

 

Jonathan Pinnock |jonAT NOSPAMjpassoc dot co dot uk

 

*****

 

Shaindel Beers, the once promising young poet, has decided after reading many literary journals, including this one, that mediocrity is the way to go. Obviously no one was brilliant enough to understand her allusions to the classical mythologies of ancient civilizations, her personal theories of metaphysics, or her unique insight into the human condition. Instead, journals have elected to publish her drunken scrawlings written on napkins at dive bars, which she then drunk types when she comes home alone from happy hours at various establishments. The other nights, little writing gets done.

 

Shaindel Beers |shaindelrAT NOSPAMyahoo dot com 

*****

All of these were great, but the first ever winner cracked me up--and got bonus points, because writers could actually submit a similar bio note without stretching the truth. As a result, Jessy Randall will receive a free copy of the 2009 Poet's Market. Congratulations, Jessy!

Here's her winning entry:

Jessy Randall has read poems in the Iowa Review, Ploughshares, the Paris Review, the New Yorker, and The Best American Poetry 1999, 2003, and 2007.

 

Jessy Randall |jessyrandallAT NOSPAMyahoo dot com

 

I don't know. Maybe it's the diet I've recently put myself on. Maybe it's the approach of autumn festivals and the thought of funnel cakes and soft pretzels. Or maybe it's just the poets I've been reading. Regardless, it feels as if I've been reading a lot of poems recently dealing with food-food-food (yummy, yummy food!).

So with that kind of introduction, it should come as little surprise that this week's prompt is to write a poem that involves food in some way. You can make food the main protagonist or give food a cameo. Perhaps, you could even make food the antagonist. Hmm...

Anyway, here's my attempt for the day:

"Food Sestina"

Though I like apples, I love pears
and have always fancied peaches,
especially with cottage cheese.
In the summer, I crave bell peppers
mixed with some light pasta--
maybe a glass of apple juice,

though I'd also drink the juice
left in my bowl of sliced pears,
because what better with pasta?
Mmm... and for dessert, some hot peach
cobbler, though not like the hot peppers
at the spice shop; those require cheese

to cool the mouth. But maybe cheese
would go well with grape juice,
yes, and some jalapeno peppers--
juicy in their own way. After, a pair
of freshly picked peaches
would hit the spot. Not pasta,

or maybe yes to pasta
after all. Some ricotta cheese
on the sauce. On the side, peaches
halved and a bit of cranberry juice.
Of course, my favored pears
and some sweet, sweet peppers.

But then I start thinking, pepperoni
pizza? Hmm... the thought of pasta
sauce slapped on dough, then pare
back an abundance of melty cheese
along with some of that blue juice
drink I had as a kid--or even peach-

flavored pop. That would be peachy.
But if I want to salt and pepper
my food, I should not think such juicy
thoughts. Instead, I should forget pasta,
and focus on some breaded cheese
sticks. Then, and only then, can I spare

myself the pears and peaches.
I will be all cheesed and peppered,
ready to juice my pasta.