Tuesday, July 31, 2007


Just did the equivalent of two red-eye flights to three cities in the past three days. I nota bene this for ... conjuration poetics:


Someday, I want to reveal the past three days in lovely Glory. Make it so....!


Overhead, the poker game ceased, and the Angels no longer Fallen as they work to make it so...

Labels: , , ,


Labels: ,

Saturday, July 28, 2007


...which is to say, the poetic experience need not cease upon the writing then reading of a poem. You can use Poetry as a means of widening your horizons, and opening your heart.

I am delighted to share that it looks like the Nothing But Nets Fundraiser, based on Ivy's Poison, will have raised about $300 by the time all proceeds are counted (see prior post). It may even top $300.00 based on the donations coming in from people who couldn't top the top bid of $75, but still wanted to contribute. Thank you to all participants!

What you may not know is that this unexpectedly generous support has been a major revelation to me. Because of my experience as a poet-publisher -- who knows how difficult it is to sell poetry books -- I had a very modest goal. I had wanted to raise a mere $10.00, using Ivy's Tiny Book which was released at $1.00. Ten bucks isn't much money, but it's worth it to buy one life-saving anti-malaria net. Seriously, I was hoping to raise just $10.00.

Oh Moi of Little Faith! The Fallen Angels hissed, slapping my typing hands with a ruler as if they were nuns from moi childhood. The raised $300.00 instead will finance 30 anti-malaria nets (that's a big result: consider that "without mosquito nets, an estimated 25% of the 200,000 Chadians in refugee camps along the Chad-Sudan border will die from malaria this rainy season"). And I now I learn again, with stinging knuckles and all, what Faith means.

And throughout this process, I haven't said much about thanking another poet-publisher, Maureen Thorson of Big Game Books which published Ivy's One Dozen Poisonous Hay(na)ku. Her Tiny Books are created artfully, enchantingly, and sold at a buck each. This may be an example of poetic intimacy, but it's not a small act. That a one-dollar publication spurred what became a fundraising to net $300.00 proves it. So, thank you, Maureen Thorson -- and kudos to all you indie poet-publishers out there.

Okay...off to spread my wings elsewhere. Have a good day!

Labels: , ,

Friday, July 27, 2007


Today is the last day for bidding for Ivy's Beloved Poison -- you have till midnight, West Coast time if you want to keep bidding! Right now, the current bid is at $75.00.  And we've also had someone from Oeonophiles For Poetry offer to match the final bid.

But now, stellar poet Luis Cabalquinto suggested on one of the Listserves where I'd posted this fundraising notice -- that those who don't wish to bid but want to contribute can just send a check for whatever amount they can share. That's sweet! I've already had four people say they can't donate more than the current bid, but will send a check! Wooot! And to think the impetus originally just sold for a buck!

Since each malaria-preventing net only costs $10, every lil' bit counts! Thanks!  And Moi do firmly believe: when we say


it's not a slogan.  It's not a metaphor.  It's for real.

Thanks for helping me show proof of its reality!

Labels: , , , ,


as a Peep points out, pointing me to my Sainthood.

"Saint Chatelaine"

I liked the sound of that until my hair got wet. Eeeuwww! Golden Shower Time! As regards my sainthood, the Fallen Angels laughed so hard they peeee-ed on moi head!

But thanks, Anny! And isn't ARS POETICA a fabulous project by Dan Waber!

Thursday, July 26, 2007


Well, it's official. With the receipt of Leny's generous gift of five Tiny Books by Tom Beckett given to the lucky five who wrote her, I can now officially proclaim that we've raised enough for a water buffalo plus a share in a pig!


But please don't stop ordering Tiny Books! Surely we can do more than a mere "share" in a pig? How about an entire pig?! For, did you know, Moi Dear Peeps, that pigs are great for helping:

"hungry, undernourished families put protein back in their diets at little cost, Heifer teaches farmers how to raise healthy pigs in countries where waste products are the only available feed. In Honduras, pigs eat rejected bananas, and in the Dominican Republic, they thrive on damaged yams. Using resources once considered worthless, impoverished families worldwide supply themselves with the protein and income they need to improve their lives. No wonder families smile over their Heifer pigs."

I will be announcing the next Tiny Book author in mid August, but the books by inaugural author Dan Waber and Tiny Book #2 author Tom Beckett continue to be available! CLICK HERE for details!

Labels: ,

Wednesday, July 25, 2007


Okay. Rodney tagged me to share 8 FUN FACTS. I reply only because Rodney is one of my favorite poets and people (such a NICE guy; niceness counts with Moi!):

1) My first poetry collection, After The Egyptians Determined The Shape of the World Is A Circle, was published in 1996, within a year after I began writing poems. I didn't know the publishers (based in Midwest). When they ceased the poetry-publishing business, I either bought back or asked for all of the remaining copies of the collection so that it will never again see the light of day. (There was a time when Nick Carbo would often counsel, Be Kind To Your Early Work...! It took me years to find that kindness...but I still will never show a copy of moi Egyptians which I think -- or hope -- I've completely taken off the public domain...)

2) Suzanne Vega was a year ahead of me at Barnard, so I used to see her sing at various dormitories (Furnald?) at Columbia University's campus. Back then, she was young and I assume still starting out of course and so, among other things, her in-between-songs patter was still raw and self-conscious. I used to feel bad for her when some students would laugh at her awkward attempts to engage the audience in between songs. But I began remembering her and appreciating her when I began to write poems -- in attempting poems, I came to respect her more for her fortitude at such a young age in totally opening herself up to strangers through her music.

3) When I was in high school, I appeared on local TV in Los Angeles as a news anchor. This was during the period when I explored then rejected television news as a career -- because I realized from that experience that (in some areas of television news) you didn't have to be intelligent, just photogenic, to be successful at it. But I was also interning under people who were contemptuous of Connie Chung...not knowing Ms. Chung, I don't know if their contempt was because Connie Chung is "dumb" or because she was an attractive female who elicited envy and thus sexist patronizing. In any event, it's fair to say that rather than offering a role model, Connie Chung is one reason I didn't pursue a career in television news.

4) I delivered the commencement speech during my graduation from Gardena High School (at the time, and possibly still is, the largest high school west of the Mississippi). Though the speech is usually given to valedictorians by many high schools, in this case, high school seniors competed to have the position of giving that speech. But I didn't deliver my winning speech which I had crafted to "win" the competition by saying what I thought people wanted to hear. I delivered a speech that was almost anti-celebratory in nature, scoffing at various things (though I can't recall any specifics today). This is one of my biggest regrets in life -- that I think my speech ended up tarnishing what should have been a day of celebration by families....because it's not like graduating from high school (especially for various parts of that community) was not a major achievement. I was young, therefore I was stupid. If you are a 1978 graduate of Gardena High School and you find this post someday in the internet -- PLEASE ACCEPT MY APOLOGIES. I repeat: I was young and stupid. (Though I mostly hope you weren't paying attention to my speech or have forgotten it...)

5) I love to take out the trash. I've lived in several NYC apartment buildings where there are trash chutes on each floor. In those places, I used to empty trash from the apartment more than once a day just for the joy of walking down the hallway, opening the chute and releasing the plastic bag of trash. Now, because I live on a mountain, I have to haul trash and recyclables myself to a nearby trash dump on weekends. I love the experience so much I've written poems, a blog and a book on or about that beloved garbage...

6) I once wrote a "graphic novel" (before I knew the term) through collaging from various pages of glossy magazines. I sent each chapter to another poet. I didn't know each letter was a "chapter" and that the whole of it was a "novel" until the poet said so because she'd been out of town and let the mail pile up. When the poet retrieved my correspondence, she thus was able to read them all in one sitting, and that's when she called it a "novel." As a novel, that work was probably my only successful novel attempt so far -- I speak as one who's trashed rain forests worth of paper attempting the long novel viz words. I don't know whether the poet ever kept my graphic novel. But I like the possibility that ... that novel has evaporated. I am, indeed, explicably thrilled over that possibility. I think I'm someone who writes, but doesn't write words so much as spaces for engagement.

7) [] because some things must not be revealed...

8) Long before I paid attention to poetry, in college, I once went out with a guy I met at a bar at 110th and Broadway (NYC) because he slipped me a matchbook whose cover unfolded to reveal a poem he'd written. Because I have no formal education in poetry, I didn't realize until years later that he didn't write that poem -- it was an excerpt from a T.S. Eliot poem. That Eliot -- always a mischief-maker.

Labels: ,

Tuesday, July 24, 2007


Ivy's Poison, that is. Which is to say, the current bid is now at


Three more bidding days! Bids are taken until this Friday, July 27, and may be emailed to GalateaTen@aol.com.

And now another announcement! A member of Oenophiles For Poetry has agreed to match the winning bid! Doubling that donation for Nothing But Nets!

Woooooo! It's enough to drive me to wine...and so, yes,I shall Sip!

Tonight, ye nectar of the gods...!

Labels: ,


Just four more days until the bidding ceases for Ivy's Poison!

And the current bid has moved up to


My goal is to have someone bump it up to at least $60. Proceeds go to Nothing But Nets which buys life-saving mosquito nets for families in Africa. Each net costs $10. Malaria, if you don't know, kills more than a million kids a year. Let's make true this saying: "Poetry saves lives."

Thanks to the poets -- around the world! -- who's participated to date in this modest auction. It's a modest effort, but Poetry surely facilitates small gestures of intimacy. Hope there's more auction action in the next four days. Bids are taken until this Friday, July 27, and may be emailed to GalateaTen@aol.com.

Good morning!

Labels: , ,

Monday, July 23, 2007


Wow and Whee! I got bit!

Which is to say, I'm honored to have my poem "Corolla" featured as "Poem of the Week" over at SharkForum! The poem is from my first U.S.-published book, Reproductions of the Empty Flagpole. Thanks to La Dr. Simone Muench who curated my appearance at this site which gets about 25,000 unique visits per month.

Simone, btw, is the author of one of the books in my poetry library which is in that rare category of having been bought after perusal at a bookstore. I don't buy that many poetry collections on bookstore shelves (most bookstores' poetry buyers just don't satisfy my own taste) -- and I'd never heard of Simone when I perused her Lampblack & Ash. Not only did I end up reading it once through at the bookstore, but I bought it! So I'm really honored that a poet I admire liked one of my own poems!

All I can say is a cheerful "Bite Me!"



I got a phone call from a reading series curator this weekend, and thought of why Tom Beckett dubbed me a "Thinking Blogger" (neat -- how I segue into that preen, eh?). To wit, Tom specifically cited:

a rose is eros is arroz. Beauty is passion and sustenance, poetry is a way of life. Eileen through her efforts as a cross-genre writer,visual artist, promoter, publisher, and shape-shifting Chatelaine, embodies what it means to live poetry.

What's salubrious (am on a phase of using that salubrious word) about Tom's reasons is his reference to Beauty. Yep, that's really my poetics. Beauty. Full Stop.

And Beauty has been one reason why I've been ignored (marginalized?) by certain camps in the poetry world. I don't do the overt ethnic thing. The overt political thing. The overt post avante thing. I don't even fit into what many people accept as those inherently-fluctuating categories of "prose poem" or "ekphrasis." I'm not preening about being a noble individual(ist) here -- I got Beauty's back and I'm not proud or defensive about it. I got Beauty's back and that's just a matter of fact (she matter of factly notes).

Which doesn't mean various poets of different styles haven't been welcoming -- they have and I am truly grateful. I'm just noting that the opposite also occurs....because I stick ultimately with Beauty (Ach! Le irony of slighting Beauty!) . And it goes relatedly to why your Chatelaine, as Tom notes, shape-shifts. Beauty comes in many forms.

But I'm not writing this post to belabor Tom's adoration (yeah, not really). I thought of his reasons because of the reading series curator who telephoned me (yes, telephoned; it's possibly the first time in months if not over a year that I've discussed poetry biz by phone instead of by email, worth N.B.-ing by itself: you should have seen the shocked face I turned to the hubby who picked up the phone and he said it's this poet....). Anyway, said curator asked me to read for this series and during the conversation, she said she asked me because "these spoken word folks need to hear something different" (or words to that effect).

Obviously (obviously, right?), "spoken word" -- as that term is bandied about in the poetry world -- is NOT the immediate category that comes to mind for me.

But "different"? I can get behind that. It's about time being different was a reason for being invited, rather than shunned.

Apparently, Beauty also got my back....

...which is good because it's an ever-sore sore back....

(Now, off to see if there's a petsitter available for that evening of spoken word. Whether it's spoken word or any other category, all are subject to Moi's Dawg Poetics. And because a DOG is inherently PURE LOVE, Missy Beauty wouldn't have it any other way...)

Labels: , , ,

Sunday, July 22, 2007


to quote how some peeps like to end their book reviews.

This tongue that cracks
               the roof of the mouth,
speech of spit-out
--from "[Angels]" by Mark Lamoreaux

Anyway, I think I've read nearly all of Mark Lamoreaux's recent chaps. I've always enjoyed the experience. But it wasn't until his latest chap, SOMETIMES THINGS SEEM VERY DARK, that I paused [insert pause] to feel-think that this guy is writing with that deeply-affecting resonance of youth. Worth nota bene-ing by Moi since I haven't noticed that in a while. (Youth here is poetic youth, which often overlaps with but is not synonymous with age-based youth. Don't ask me to expand; I'm noting this thought down for further clarification down the road, not to share its points as a fully-developed review now.) Mark seems to have begun -- to my delight as a reader now committed to following his poems -- a body of work that will manifest the SUBLIME. Fortunately, the text from the limited edition print chap will be reprinted in the near future by Dusie.

And what better lead in to Moi latest list of Relished W(h)ines:



FRACTAL ECONOMIES, poems by derek beaulieu


SONOLUMINSCENCE, poetry collaboration by Simone Muench & William Allegrezza


) ) ), poems by Samar Abulhassan

LOT OF MY SISTER, poems by Alison Stine

TETHER, poem by Drew Kuntz

TRUANCY, poems by Sarah Anne Cox with drawings by Paris Cox-Farr

SPECIMEN, poems by Marci Nelligan

FOLLY, poems by Nada Gordon

BLACK STONE, meditation by Dale Smith

FILLING STATION, Issue 36, Ed. by derek beaulieu et al



THE MISTRESS' DAUGHTER, memoir by A.M. Homes

FLOOR SAMPLE, memoir by Julia Cameron


IN MEMORIAM TO IDENTITY, novel by Kathy Acker

REMEMBERING LAUGHTER, novel by Wallace Stegner

THE FUGITIVE WIFE, novel by Peter C. Brown

NUMBERED ACCOUNT, novel by Christopher Reich

WHERE THE HEART IS, novel by Billie Letts


THE TRUTH SEEKER, novel by Dee Henderson

THE RESCUER, novel by Dee Henderson

HIGH NOON, novel by Nora Roberts

1994 Ravenswood Zinfandel Beaterra Vineyard Special Release in Celebration of Sonoma's 150th Anniversary
2003 Dutch Henry chardonnay
2003 Dutch Henry Argos
2002 Dutch Henry Reserve cabernet
2006 Dutch Henry pinot noir
2003 Peter Michael "Ma Belle Fille" chardonnay
1995 Brunello di Montalcino C____(sp to come)
2004 Mark Aubert Ruelling chardonnay
2006 Swanson pinot grigio
1989 Maximillan Gronhauser Herrenweg Auslese 93.
2005 ROAR Pinot Noir Santa Lucia Highlands
1993 Ravenswood zinfandel Wood Road

A Wine Nota Bene: That 2002 Dutch Henry Reserve Cabernet has got to be one of the current Fine Wine BARGAINS out there. Check it out if you think you know your wine.


Friday, July 20, 2007


First, in response to a backchanneling nosy peep, No, I'm not always as "bloody cheerful" as I come off on this blog. Believe me, if I were, I'd be the first to shoot myself.

Sip. 2005 ROAR Pinot Noir Santa Lucia Highlands...

Now, having said that about not always being cheery, let me then do a Perky and cheerfully observe:

Doesn't it say something that this is the birthday of Tom Beckett and yet he's the one to give out a Gift? To wit, Tom dubs me a THINKING BLOGGER.

Well, okay! I think therefore I feel therefore I am Moi!

....although I have to say that I'm honored primarily because of what I glean as the context of this particular "award". It's not that I appreciate receiving the award. It's that I appreciate receiving it when Tom's first awardee -- the blogger that moithinks set the bar for Tom's choices -- is Geof Huth who deserves many accolades indeed for his ruminations on and presentations of visual poetry. To be considered thought-worthy in his company--wow. I feel like it's my birthday!

Anyway, Thanks Tom you Birthday Boy!

Btw, while looking as to Tom's reasons for dubbing me a Thinking Blogger, this phrase caught my eye: "shape-shifting Chatelaine". Le sigh: that reminds me of when I was a slim elegant New Yorker. But then I moved to Napa Valley to practice wine poetics and gained 50% -- FIFTY PERCENT! -- of my Manhattan weight. I am officially THIN-CHALLENGED! (Ach--why must wine be so caloric!)

Fortunately, Moi doesn't miss the Hot Bod. For as my latest award fortunately reminds --



While loving me by reading me, go on over to Leny's RIGHT HERE (her July 19 post) and avail yourself of a free copy of Tom Beckett's Tiny Book. It's spe.....ecial! And his book comes with a bonus: some of my teeeeeeensy hay(na)ku drawings! Teeny drawings hoping to benefit Heifer International with a GINORMOUS WATER BUFFALO!

Besides, a water buffalo is fatter than Moi am and, uh, nowadays...that counts for a lot, she thinks, as she reaches forth for the chalice for ... another Sip!

Labels: , ,


Peeps -- don't be shy. There's still time to nab a FREE Tiny Book by Tom Beckett -- Leny Strobel has updated her July 19 post to include her email addy you can write for said free teeny.

Moi Meritage Press Tiny Books are sized at about 1 3/4" X 1 3/4". That's smaller than the average miniature book (3" X 3") but larger than the tiniest miniature book ever of .9 millimeter by .9 millimeter. My handwriting text (and drawings in some cases) reflect back to the 13th to 14th century origins of the miniature books! I got these details from Jessica Smith who's been posting about miniature books. Most recently, she linked to the Helen Van Dyke Miniature Book Collection; here's an excerpt:

Miniature books can be traced to the 13th and 14th centuries, before the invention of printing, when text was handwritten and pictures were painted on pages measuring about 3 by 1 7/8 inches. With the development of the printing press, thinner paper and smaller typefaces, the number of miniature books published increased during the centuries that followed. Little books served very practical purposes, holding information in easily portable and compact spaces. Nobles, nuns, priests, students and laypersons found it easier to travel with miniature books tucked into pockets or attached to girdles and belts. Printers enjoyed the challenge of making miniature books with extravagant bindings of tortoise shell, leather, sterling silver, embroidery, and vellum. The classic miniature book is about 3-by-3inches and can be read with the naked eye. The Guinness Book of World Records listed Ian McDonald’s 1 millimeter copy of Old King Cole as the “smallest book in the world.” According to a report in the March 1998, Miniature Book News, Anatoli Konenko of Omsk, Russia challenged that record with his miniature version of Chekov’s Hameleon. It measures .9 millimeter by .9 millimeter, and must be read with a 30-power magnifying glass!



Want a comp copy of Tom Beckett's Tiny Book? It made Leny happy so she PAYS IT FORWARD -- click HERE for details!

And my "Financial Analysis" (see prior post) moved a Peep to move the Auction bidding further onward! Latest bid for Ivy's Poison is: $50.00!!

Labels: ,

Thursday, July 19, 2007


I should Nota Bene that the Financial Analysis conducted in the prior post elides the more-in-depth parsing of the statistics as regards to how I've done with California vs non-California sales. Because if the latter was significantly higher, that would explain the drop in California sales tax revenues that I would need to forward to the California polis (since I don't have to pay sales tax for out of state sales). But I didn't go that in depth because there is only so much of my time -- which at economics-type rates I used to bill out at thousands of dollars per hour (ah Poet: how far you've dropped!) -- that I can spare to analyzing the details of an $82 bill.

Now, moving on to equally moronic (from an economic standpoint) but most definitely MORE CHEERFUL matters, the auction proceeds ever onward and upward for Ivy's Poison. The current bid is currently at


Whoooo-hooooo! That's four life-saving nets, Peeps. THANKS for the interest.

Now, if we consider the fact that Ivy's Poisonous Hay(na)ku Tinyside originally was sold by publisher Big Game Books at $1.00, this 4,000% return so far rivals the ridiculousness of nothing less than the art market.

When you consider that the auction has lasted all of three days, that would be an annualized return of 486,667%!

Even if you took out the $14.95 retail value of The First Hay(na)ku Anthology tossed into the mix, that still would be a 151% return!


And the auction still has nine days left to run. GEEEEEEEZ-ZZZZZZ-ZEUSSSSS! How much more can Moi heart weather such a financial run up?

C'mon Peeps -- dare to give Moi a heart attack. The bid is at $40.00. Bids can be upped for as leeetle as a quarter. Have at it, Peeps:


Labels: , , ,


The more books I sell, the more tax monies I send on over to ease Governor Schwarzenneger's and Mayor Plumpjack's pain. So I worked hard and tried my best to help generate revenues for the state through sales taxes on books I sold. But Fiscal Year 2007 was a bad year, to wit, I was only able to generate sales tax revenues for the polis to the tune of:

2007: $82.00

a sad drop to see from the prior year when I cheerfully doled out:

2006: $254.00

On the other hand, Dear California, I still did better than Fiscal 2005 when I sent you a check for $2.00.

So it could have been worse. The matter at hand, after all, is selling Poetry.

I shall try to do better in the coming year ahead.

Le sigh...

Labels: , ,


A lovely publisher has given me an open-ended offer to publish my hay(na)ku drawings online. Thank you, Publisher-Peep.

I replied that I have to think more about that possibility. I drew the hay(na)ku against the pages of a Tiny Book (as I happened to be working on them at the time the idea surfaced). But what this means is that integral -- or so it seems -- to the form of the drawings are their placement on book pages. What this means:

--some of the drawings play with, disrupt, subvert the edges of the page. They float off, fall from, and/or metaphorically extend the edge of the page.

So I'm not sure how the drawings would translate to a flat-screen online reproduction.

And yet, the impossibility of such translation....has never prevented translators from, um, translating!

And so, rather than say No (or No, Thank you), the challenge now is to think instead about how the translation might occur. And this path, too, is something I learned from Poetry: the poet says what is impossible to articulate; the poet translates the untranslateable.

As I was just saying to another Poet this morning who wanted my feedback on a brilliant concept he'd concocted, "Fortitude is precious."


Speaking of hay(na)ku,


as Ernesto illustrates HERE. I love that about the hay(na)ku -- how it can compel others to respond by also de facto writing a poem because they want to play a la the children's rhyme Isa, Dalawa, Tatlo, Ang Tata'y Mo Ay Kalbo... (Trans.: One, Two, Three, Your Dad is Bald...").

hence Your Invitation Here. Let's Play!

Labels: , , , , ,

Wednesday, July 18, 2007


The auction proceedeths. Current top bid for Ivy's Poison is at


Wooo! Enough for three-and-a-half life-saving nets!

Bidding closes on July 27.

Scroll down HERE, btw, to see the fabulous cover to Ivy's sold-out Tinyside #33 -- sold out except for this gem now being auctioned! Or, you can check it viz Ivy's own lovely Blog.


When I rely on a poem or poems to "do good," btw, it's also a way of my noting the inadequacy of language (for certain things anyway -- I mean, "Hello" can still work as a greeting, di ba?). I find this more salubrious than writing yet another poem about, or reflecting on, the inadequacy of language. Uh, why yes indeedy! This fundraising project turns out after all to be, too, about aesthetics. Surely you never doubted Moi...?!

Sip. Glass of 1994 Ravenswood Zinfandel Beaterra Vineyard Special Release in Celebration of Sonoma's 150th Anniversary

Labels: , , ,

Tuesday, July 17, 2007


Juan de Salcedo was known as the last of the Conquistadors. I'll be off trampling on his footsteps (oh, ye dust I will kick up!) -- and thus be offline -- from Aug. 1-15, 2007. This means, among other things:

The deadline for submitting reviews to the next issue of Galatea Resurrects (GR) is now Aug. 17, 2007. I will continue to take reviews earlier, of course, but to avoid having a major back-up in my email account, I'd appreciate it if you either send me your reviews before Aug. 1 or after Aug. 15, 2007.

I've also just set a review submission deadline for GR's EIGHTH issue to be November 5, 2007.

Email me at GalateaTen@aol.com if you're interested in doing a review! But please try to avoid emailing me from Aug. 1-15 (whether on GR or any other matter).



says Carlos Hiraldo, the latest reviewer of Tom's Unprotected Texts, featured in the newly-released Jacket Magazine. Click on excerpt below for the whole thing:

“Vanishing Points of Resemblance” begins with the line, “Life’s defining moments are about contingency, accident and choice.” You can read volumes and volumes of philosophy and psychology books and never hit upon such a concise and precise understanding of the human condition.


Monday, July 16, 2007


The latest auction bid for Ivy Alvarez's Poison came with a note from the Peep saying he's amazed by moi creativity. And I replied cheerfully, "I go a long way to amuse moiself" -- which is a great way to rev up that creativity juice! (Or did you believe Moi when I said I was just trying to be "good"? Wink!)

Anyway, latest bid for Poison: $30!

That's three live-saving nets for NOTHING BUT NETS!

And may I share that I -- a poet-publisher -- am the first to be amazed at witnessing poets bid double the full retail value of poetry books? Heh...

And the bid is over to .... you?


Or as they say in Auction Land, Over to you...?!

Labels: , , ,


Manual labor is, to understate the matter, different. I've been surprised (I anticipated the effect but am still surprised) by the unexpected ardousness to making these Tiny Books which require me to handwrite the poems into the premade books.

I have some shoulder pains from just having fulfilled an order for three Tiny Books.

Of course, the positive thing is that hand-making means each book is different from each other. And this morning, the gesture-laden aspects of the process delivered a Gift!

Unexpectedly -- which is how I prefer most of my poems to arise -- I ended up creating a Tiny Book of my own, but of visual work rather than a literary one:

               ALPHABET: Hay(na)ku Drawings

Twenty-six drawings, each titled after a letter in the alphabet.

I'm not yet offering ALPHABET to the public. I want to meditate on the work for a while ...

But thank you, Angels. You never fail to return what I give.


Speaking of hay(na)ku, the latest Auction Bid for Ivy's Poison is now at $25.00! Woot! POETRY does SAVE LIVES!

Labels: , , , ,


Yay. And thanks to stellar poet Simone Muench for choosing as Shark Forum's "Poem of the week" a poem from Bill Allegrezza's Fragile Replacements.

Check out the sample poem for yet another reason why you, Dear Peeps, should avail yourself of the SPECIAL RELEASE OFFER for Fragile Replacements (good only through August 31).

Labels: ,

Sunday, July 15, 2007


Yesterday the chicken, today the goat, and tomorrow?

Yes, indeedy! As Tom nota bene-ed, through Meritage Press' Tiny Books series, we've raised enough now to donate a GOAT!! Keep sending in those orders -- I am absolutely confident that Tiny Books will be able to raise the BIG GIFT of nothing less than [insert drum roll] a WATER BUFFALO!!!! A carabao, as we Pinoys call those beasts! Ambition is good in Poetry, peeps -- let's put those orders together for a BIG ANIMAL!!!

And speaking of fundraising, the Auction bid for Ivy Alvarez's ONE DOZEN POISON HAY(NA)KU and The First Hay(na)ku Anthology (see prior post) is now at $20. Wooo! That's enough for two life-saving mosquito nets! You can increase bids by a mere quarter, Peeps. Every little bit helps!

Poetry -- it can be about anything, from the biggest buffalo to the tiniest mosquito. Ain't Poetry Grand!

Labels: , , , ,


A few years ago, a poet confidently told me that "being good" doesn't have anything to do with being a poet. That's certainly a popular view (and in the same sense, 'being bad" has nothing to do with being a poet either). But perverse Moi that I am, I cho(o)se to disagree -- in my interview in EXCHANGE VALUES, I offered my "faith that being a good person is relevant to writing good poems -- there is much proof that the poetic process need not work this way but I’ve decided that, consciously anyway, I would like to minimize psychic dysfunctional tendencies between my psyche and poetry."

Which is all to say, I am pleased to conduct this fruitful AUCTION involving the hay(na)ku! To wit, I first note that Ivy Alvarez's collection, 1 DOZEN POISON HAY(NA)KU, (Big Game Books, Washington D.C., 2007) was sold out within hours -- what, 48? 24? hours -- of its release. Well, I am now auctioning Ivy's "Tinyside" to raise enough funds for an anti-poison Mosquito Net. Surely that quickly-sold-out-Tinyside will be worth BIG BUCKS on Ebay someday. And as a bonus, I'm also tossing in a copy of that soon-to-be-out of print (38 copies left) The First Hay(na)ku Anthology (retail value $14.95!).

The auction is part of my participation in NOTHING BUT NETS which seeks to combat malaria, the leading killer of children in Africa. Bed nets can prevent malaria transmission by 50% and the nets work in two ways. They stop mosquitoes from biting during the night and spreading the disease, and the insecticide on the net kills the mosquitoes when they land on it. This program is organized by Sports Illustrated, the United Nations, AOL Black Voices, NBA Cares, the Mark J. Gordon Foundation and the United Methodist Church.


Minimum Bid: $7.50
Auction will be open through July 27, 2007
Procedure: Email bids to GalateaTen@aol.com. I'll keep posting UPDATES on this blog on Auction Bids; you can top each bid by a minimum of a 25 cents per bid.

All it takes is $10 and we'll have raised enough for one mosquito net!

UPDATE: The current bid is now at $75.00! Next?!


All this for $10 bucks as the goal? Yes, to reflect a Poetics of Intimacy.


Speaking of the hay(na)ku, don't forget about your invitation to THE CHAINED HAY(NA)KU. I'm hearing such lovely things going on in collaborations out there. I've already received two sets of submissions: the first a set of images from three stellar visual poetry makers, and the second a hay(na)ku sequence from a group of poets from the WRITING-L Listserve (thanks to mIEKAL AND for coordinating). So so kewl!

The hay(na)ku just loves to get intimate with you!

Labels: , , ,

Saturday, July 14, 2007


Just follow Tom Beckett's way of toning his biceps: working out with Allen Bramhall's Days Poem!

Seriously, I second Tom's "Put in the time. Check this work out."

Available HERE and HERE2.

Friday, July 13, 2007

kari edwards WROTE FOR US

There are just so many layers in kari edwards' first posthumously published poetry collection, having been blue for charity (BlazeVOX Books). But when asked to provide a "blurb" by publisher Geoffrey Gatza, it took me literally three seconds to narrow my focus onto one aspect (so compelling is kari's meditation on it, or rather, its absence): Us.

I hope you read kari's having been blue for charity -- here's one reason, one blurb:

"Tell me how connected bodies blinded by remote thresholds, swim in glacial river zones?" kari edwards asks us, and keeps asking throughout having been blue for charity. kari is not asking theoretically. kari's question is a direct address to you and you and me (all of my me's). It is a personal address to us. For in that question and throughout kari's first posthumously published book, kari reminds that "us" is the pronoun too long frozen out in politics, culture and however else we might categorize the unfolding of current events. Thus, too, has this pronoun been marginalized by much contemporary poetry. So let us raise the pickax in a different type of war: let us free "us" to begin thinking about a world inherently interconnected but damaged. Let us think about the question's implications as regards our response-ibility. Start with the "I'--rev up that "I"!--but don't stop there. Us awaits.

Labels: ,

Thursday, July 12, 2007


Okay, so Jeff Clark's Quemadura is frequently cited as the HOTTEST book designer for poet collections right now. If so, let Moi proclaim: I just got the cover Quemadura designed for Garrett Caples' COMPLICATIONS, forthcoming from moi beloved Meritage Press, and I am proclaiming


Drool, people. Better yet, get COMPLICAT-ED when it's out this Fall for equally drooly poems.

Best cover, un hunh.

Ahem, not, of course, that poetry is a competition....

....jest, very excited over this project...!

Oh, and I'll share the front cover image later. After all, I gotta tease y'all, don't I?!

Labels: , ,


At best, Taguba said, “Rumsfeld was in denial.”
--from Seymour Hersh's article on Gen. Taguba in the
New Yorker

What renders Taguba’s uncompromising report an act of poetic justice that everyone, especially Filipinos, should applaud is that here was a brown-skinned man refusing the traditional role of loyal, hear-no-evil, see-no-evil, speak-no-evil subaltern: he would be no Gunga Din, no Tonto to a masked man.
--from Luis H. Francia's article (replicated in full below) in the

Meritage Press author Luis H. Francia is also a journalist. Here's a reprint of a timely column he wrote for the Philippines' Inquirer below -- I think it's "must reading", along with the referenced New Yorker article HERE regarding U.S. Army Major General Antonio Taguba and Iraq.

Rumsfeld's and generally (pun intended) the Bush Administration's treatment of Gen. Taguba is the seed, btw, for a new poetry manuscript I've just begun. Its working title? COLLATERAL DAMAGE. Anyway, here's Luis' article in its entirety

Salt of the Earth
By Luis H. Francia

New York—Last January, U.S. Army Major General Antonio Taguba retired after thirty-four years of active service, even if he might very well have added at least one more star to his current two, given the arc of his career. Until the spring of 2004, not many had heard of the general, who was a Manila boy for the first eleven years of his life. Those who did know him seemed to have the highest respect for his intelligence, integrity and professionalism. That spring, however, the general’s anonymity came to a spectacular end when his classified report, on the use of torture at Abu Ghraib prison in Iraq, was leaked to the press, making headlines around the world and exposing the brutality and humiliations inflicted by American military guards on Iraqi prisoners.

The report scandalized those who never thought Americans would stoop to such inhumane tactics; on the other hand, it confirmed the view of people, myself included, who believe that not only did the United States have no business invading and occupying Iraq, it was doing so in less than honorable fashion. And, perhaps most importantly for the boots on the ground, the accounts—especially of acts of sexual humiliation--further inflamed the Arab world, bolstering the ranks of jihadists.

The sordid, vivid images of the abuses repelled. How could such acts of sadism be part of the “export of democracy”? In fact, the history of U.S. military campaigns against nonwhite combatants is characterized by a brutality that feeds on an underlying and persistent racism that comes through in the language used to describe the enemy other, from “the only good Injun is a dead Injun” in the genocidal wars against Native Americans, to “savages,” “googoos,” “Japs,” “Chinks” and “gooks” in the various wars in Asia, beginning with the 1899 Philippine-American War, to “ragheads” in the case of the Iraqis.

One sad consequence of the general’s report was that it also effectively curtailed his career. Last month, a long New Yorker piece by Seymour Hersh provided, mainly through interviews with the general himself, the back story to Taguba’s investigation and its far-reaching implications. The article’s subhead read: “How Antonio Taguba, who investigated the Abu Ghraib scandal, became one of its casualties.”

In the article, former Secretary of Defense Donald Rumsfeld comes across as a manipulative, self-serving politician, a trapo, seeking to avoid responsibility for the failures in Iraq, both moral and military, while his coterie of top Pentagon officials perform as ass-kissing palace courtiers. Taguba tells Hersh, “[Rumsfeld] and his aides have abused their offices and have no idea of the values and high standards that are expected of them.”

Early on, the general realized that, as he put it to Hersh, “I was already in a losing proposition. If I lie, I lose. And, if I tell the truth, I lose.” He did what anyone with a conscience would have done: lose, honorably. As messenger of unpalatable truth to power, he was shot, though here of course the messenger himself crafted the message. What renders Taguba’s uncompromising report an act of poetic justice that everyone, especially Filipinos, should applaud is that here was a brown-skinned man refusing the traditional role of loyal, hear-no-evil, see-no-evil, speak-no-evil subaltern: he would be no Gunga Din, no Tonto to a masked man.

Filipinos have been in the ranks of the U.S. military for more than a century now, fulfilling their roles and functions--somewhat similar to those of the Gurkhas in the British military—valiantly, professionally and quietly. The general’s own father, Tomas, served in the Philippine Scouts during World War II, was taken prisoner after the fall of Bataan, and took part in the infamous Death March. He managed to escape and join the American-led Filipino resistance to the Japanese occupation.

I doubt that it was easy for Taguba to put together his report. I also doubt that he ever wavered once he decided to go ahead with his damning conclusions. I can’t say for sure, not having had the opportunity to meet and talk to him (as I certainly hope to one day), so I can only conjecture that what helped propel him towards Newton’s “great ocean of truth” were not just his strict upbringing but at least two experiences mentioned in the Hersh piece.

One was Taguba’s finding out, in 1997, about his reticent father’s wartime exploits and the subsequent two-year research that resulted in his father being awarded on his eightieth birthday with the Bronze Star and a prisoner-of-war medal at a ceremony in Hawaii. The other is Taguba being subjected to discrimination as a young man in uniform.

Hersh quotes Taguba as saying, “without bitterness”: “Let’s talk about being refused to be served at a restaurant in public. Let’s talk about having to do things two times, and being accused of not speaking English well, and having to pay myself for my three master’s degrees because the Army didn’t think I was smart enough. So what? Just work your ass off. So what? The hard work paid off.”

Having spent his adolescent years in Hawai’i, where Filipinos rank low in the social hierarchy, the general must have already been made painfully aware of both racial and class discrimination even before joining the military. Hersh didn’t render explicit the connection between Taguba the person of color and Taguba the investigator, and of course he didn’t have to, since his focus is on how Taguba’s report came to be. But the subtext is there: the person who experiences the sting of racism firsthand tends to be particularly attuned to its occurrence elsewhere, especially in instances where the jailers (or colonizers or occupiers, all of whom play nearly identical roles) are overwhelmingly white and the subject population overwhelmingly not.

The attitude towards the prisoners at Abu Ghraib is perhaps best summarized by what a senior general in Iraq told Taguba, that these people “were only Iraqis,” the implication that they were somehow not fully human loudly echoing innumerable earlier assessments, from Balanggiga to My Lai, and particularly General William Westmoreland’s infamous statement during the Vietnam War, that “The Oriental doesn't put the same high price on life as does a Westerner. Life is plentiful. Life is cheap in the Orient.”

A full-page photograph of Antonio Taguba accompanies the Hersh piece. Take a look at it: No question General Taguba is a brown man, salt of the earth. He faces photographer Mary Ellen Mark squarely, his countenance calm and open. Neatly dressed in a suit and tie, with an American flag pin on his lapel, he reminds me of the earlier generations of manong who also looked directly and unashamedly at the camera, though those manong, being younger then, had a hint of swagger and bravado in their stance, necessary plates in their protective armor against the pervasive xenophobia of pre-war America—something that has been revived in post-9/11 America.

Now that he is no longer on active duty, Manong Taguba has apparently begun to quietly campaign on behalf of Filipino veterans of World War II, whose ranks are being depleted at the rate of eight deaths a day on the average, and who continue to be denied full benefits for their service to Uncle Sam. In 1942 close to 300,000 Filipinos resisted the Imperial Japanese Army, either through the United States military, or as American-led guerrillas.

In 1942 President Franklin Delano Roosevelt had guaranteed that these soldiers would be granted full benefits, same as any other American veteran, but his successor, Harry Truman, signed into law the Rescission Act of 1946 that stripped these benefits away from the Filipino vets. In the immediate aftermath of the war, Manila was hardly in any position to protest this appalling reversal.

Some benefits have since been restored, but not full equity. According to Rudy Asercion, a friend and colleague of General Taguba and U.S. Navy veteran living in San Francisco, approximately 18,500 veterans are still alive – 4,500 in the U.S., and the rest in the Philippines. Asercion comes from a family with a long and proud history of U.S. military service: his grandfather was the first Filipino chief bandmaster in the U.S. Navy; his 24-year-old father, Dick, vacationing in the Philippines when the war broke out, was captured and killed by the Japanese.

A member of the American Coalition of Filipino Veterans, the Veterans War Memorial Commission, and public relations director of American Legion District 8, Asercion has been a staunch advocate for full equity since 1989. He believes a bill being considered by Congress--S.1315, the Veterans Benefits Enhancement Act of 2007, sponsored by Senator Daniel Inouye, a WWII veteran from Hawai’i—has a very good chance of being signed into law later this month.

It contains a modified version of the Filipino Veterans Equity Act, proposed in previous years but never passed. What passage will mean in terms of actual monetary benefits remains to be seen, given the spiraling costs of the war in Iraq and the consequent budget deficit. The proposed law hopes to remedy the miscarriage of justice that has stood for sixty-one years. It will be too late, of course, for all those brave men and women who have since turned into dust.

And there’s the rub: such a long and shameful treatment of loyal veterans is in some ways as bad as if not worse than the abuses of Abu Ghraib.

Copyright by Luis H. Francia and the Inquirer


Wednesday, July 11, 2007


For the same construction hoo-haa involving BIG BURLY MEN (see prior post), got a marble fountain project going whose base will include four rectangles, each of which will be carved with hay(na)ku. The four hay(na)ku are each inspired by and titled after Galatea's four pets: Achilles, Gabriela, Artemis and Scarlet.

The Fountain Committee rejected the hay(na)ku I proposed for Gabriela. Now, each of the hay(na)ku should capture each animal's character, and here's the poem that really captures Moi bratty minx of a dawg who is always getting into trouble:


in pussy--
a $450 ultrasound.

It's based on a true story. The dawg sat her furry butt on the ground to scratch herself and some foxtail -- that weed with razor-like edges to its leaves that's unfortunately prevalent on Galatea's mountain -- wormed its way up into what Oprah calls "vah-jay-jay".

Even my stalwart vet was grossed out when we spread her legs to see the puss leaking from her vah-jay-etcetera. But what mostly irks me is how her butt-wiggle cost an expensive ultrasound, followed up by antibiotics treatment and so on.

As Mom said, "That dawg should wear panties."

Anyway, Gabriela is forever getting into various assortments of trouble, and that hay(na)ku is purrr-fectly pitched, as I proclaimed loudly to the Fountain Committee, aka the Irritating Hubby.

But no. Said Committee proclaimed right back, "No way we're etching 'pussy' into marble."

I wrote a replacement hay(na)ku. It's so bland I'm embarrassed to blog it, but it's what passed muster, given the context for it: a marble monument.

And that's why poems are quite often boring when written for monumental occasions (presidential inauguration, anyone?).

Real poetry requires one to go out beyond one's writing studio, fearlessly sit one's panty-less ass on unknown territory, and go butt-twitching wild without at all giving a Flying F about public opinion.


Labels: , ,

Tuesday, July 10, 2007


I've been beset by BIG BURLY MEN and BIG BURLY TRACTORS and BIG BURLY CONRETE TRUCKS since April. I wake up each working day to the music of jackhammers roto-rootering through moi delicate ears. This will be my life for, nota bene, not the initial one-year construction period promised by the hubby. This will be my life for two years.

And the miracle is that I didn't throw a fit.

(Did you believe that? What are you, nutso? Of course I threw a fit...!)

Well, to soothe Moi The Savage Beast, the hubby alerted me today that part of what's being constructed on the MOUNTAIN-WITH-A-BIG-HEADACHE will be a Mugnaini Pizza oven, thus giving Galatea something in common with some purty stellar restos like Chez Panisse.

I grunted at the news.

The hubby tried again -- and we can go HERE for "training"!

And suddenly I am the Happy Martyr. Coz if Moi ass is gonna be jackhammered, Pizza is a good start for recompense. A start, dear Hubby. A start.

Labels: ,


Escrevi e destruí pelo menos 3,000 páginas que tentam esta novela. As minhas desculpas às florestas de chuva ... mas estou começando de novo nele novamente. O título deste tempo:


Goal: at least three sections a day for the rest of the month. Today, I wrote 8 sections. I have to finish it this month because on Aug. 2, I go off to walk in the footsteps of Juan de Salcedo -- him known as the Last Conquistador.

Dear Nine Billion, Y'all will have to forgive me as I nota bene something not quite articulated here (noted but not articulated, heh)...while beyond the open window, the coyotes are raucous tonight. They had their own targets and tonight they got their kill.


Monday, July 09, 2007


Meritage Press Announcement
For more information: MeritagePress@aol.com


Meritage Press (MP) is pleased to announce the second title in its series of Tiny Books that aligns poetry with fair trade and economic development issues affecting Third World countries.

MP's Tiny Books initially utilize small books (1 3/4" x 1 3/4") made in Guatemala by artisans paid fair wages, as sourced by Baksheesh, a fair trade retailer. All profits from book sales then will be donated to Heifer International, an organization devoted to reducing world hunger by promoting sustainable sources of food and income.

We are delighted to announce that MP's second Tiny Book is

               Steps: A Notebook
               by Tom Beckett

Tom Beckett is the author of Unprotected Texts: Selected Poems 1978~2006 (Meritage Press, 2006), and the curator of E-X-C-H-A-N-G-E-V-A-L-U-E-S: The First XI Interviews (Otoliths, 2007). From 1980-1990, he was the editor/publisher of the now legendary critical journal, The Difficulties. Steps: A Notebook is Tom Beckett's first hay(na)ku poetry collection. The hay(na)ku is also a form that lends itself to minimalism.

MP's Tiny Book series was inaugurated by

               all alone again
               by Dan Waber

Dan Waber is a visual poet, concrete poet, sound poet, performance poet, publisher, editor, playwright and multimedia artist whose work has appeared in all sorts of delicious places, from digital to print, from stage to classroom, from mailboxes to puppet theaters. He is currently working on "and everywhere in between". He makes his online home at logolalia.com. Meritage Press tapped Mr. Waber to inaugurate the series partly for his work in minimalist poetry.

With Tiny Books, MP also offers a new DIY, or Do-It-Yourself Model of publishing. You've heard of POD or print-on-demand? Well, these books' print runs will be based on HOD or Handwritten-on-Demand. MP's publisher, Eileen Tabios, will handwrite all texts into the Tiny Books' pages and books will be released to meet demand for as long as MP is able to source tiny books -- or until the publisher gets arthritis.

This project reflects Meritage Press' belief that "Poetry feeds the world" in non-metaphorical ways. The Tiny Books create demand for fair trade workers' products while also sourcing donations for easing poverty in poorer areas of the world.

Each Tiny Book will cost $10 plus $1.00 shipping/handling. To purchase the Tiny Books and donate to Heifer International, send a check for $11.00 per book, made out to "Meritage Press" to

Eileen Tabios
Meritage Press
256 North Fork Crystal Springs Rd.
St. Helena, CA 94574


As of July 8, 2007, we have garnered enough book sales to donate funds sufficient to give three-and-a-half flocks of chicks. Nota bene re chickens:

"CHICKENS are a real value. Starting at six months, they can lay up to 200 eggs a year — a reliable source of protein for children who otherwise subsist mostly on starches. Extra eggs can be sold to pay for school, clothes and medicine. And in the vegetable garden, chickens peck at bugs and weeds, scratch up the soil and enrich it with droppings."

Isn't that interesting about chickens?! But we're not that far from "the most giving animal around": -- the goat! Note bene re goats:

"GOATS: Did you know that more children around the world get their protein from goat's milk? That's because goats thrive in extreme climates where other livestock can't, and eat grasses and leaves that cause other animals to turn up their noses (or snouts)! And if it's a Heifer goat, one struggling family can receive up to a gallon of milk from it every single day. That's more than enough milk not only to drink, but to use to make cheese, butter or yogurt, plus to sell whatever's left and buy much-needed clothes, school supplies and medicine. Although they appear tough and gruff, goats are actually so gentle that it's usually the family's children who regularly care for them. In this way, goats really do become "nannies;" teaching their young caregivers all kinds of skills while building their self-esteem. This year, give the gift that keeps giving, over and over again. It's the best present you could give to someone who gives so much to you."

POETRY -- the Gift that keeps on Giving...pls consider doing so through the BIG GIFT of a Tiny Book!

Friday, July 06, 2007


So, this brilliant poet was brilliant enough to order Meritage Press' first Tiny Book, all alone again by Dan Waber. Now, I'm informed that the poet will also send over a donation, to "reflect [poet's] perception of a closer approximation to the beauty of the work and to the kindness of your gesture toward the cause."

Sublime! I think that this poet's own generosity, along with continuing orders, may yet get Moi the Beloved Cow! Wooo! I mean, Mooo!

And it's 1:10 a.m. Do you know where your Tiny Book is? Then order one! (viz HERE).


Delighted and grateful to receive a blurb from Nick Piombino for Prau by Jean Vengua, forthcoming from Meritage Press:

Prau sets forth on its courageous voyage through time and spirit with a meditation on the year 1911, the date of the author's mother's birth, that sails us through the worlds of Mahler, Marie Curie, Moses Browning (who invented the M-1911 Colt 45 to kill intransigent Filipino "moros" in Mindanao), the H - Bomb, Matta, the polymath Rizal, Dapitan and the migratory routes of her father's wandering ukulele. Vengua's poems gently yet firmly navigate us towards yet to be explored spheres of psychological and lyrical revelation where "by turns and in rounds we are angry, indifferent and in love" and "without ghosts, the obscurity of night becomes real." This is page-turner, addictive poetry that never falters in its gaze at the integrity of dream and the dream of integrity.
--Nick Piombino, author of Fait Accompli

Thanks Nick! And I hope Nick's Advance Words, along with Susan Schultz's and Catalina Cariaga's whet your appetite for Jean's long-overdue inaugural poetry book!

Labels: ,

Thursday, July 05, 2007


J'ai tant pour dire, mais ne peux pas dire parce que je ne suis pas je.


Tuesday, July 03, 2007


THIS is muy mucho kewl!

Peeps: no need to be fluent in espanol to enjoy the Spanish translations of various hay(na)ku from The First Hay(na)ku Anthology -- available at Periodico de Poesia associated with the National Autonomous University of Mexico/Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México (UNAM). Congratulations to the translated authors:

Michael Chmielecki
Craig Freeman
Harry K. Stammer
Crag Hill
Jill Jones
Tom Beckett
Sheila E. Murphy

(UPDATE: I've been advised that, actually, ALL of the poems in The First Hay(na)ku Anthology have been translated into Spanish, so that what's on the Periodico De Poesia website is just a sample. The entire book's been translated! Yay!)

Y Muchas Gracias indeed to the wonderful translators Argel Corpus, Rebeka Lembo, Liliana Andrade, Itzel Rivas, Melisa Larios, Alfredo Villegas, Luis Felipe Alvarez, Alejandra Navarrete, María González de León, and Álvaro García. The translators are part of UNAM's Faculty of Literature and Philosophy/Facultad de Filosofía y Letras. The translations come out of the Modern Literature Department. All the translators study English Literature, including U.S., British and Canadian Literature.

Since I use Moi Blog as a File Cabinet, I am going to copynpaste the Introduction and Translation Seminar Note here (which Yo no fully comprehend but sounds muy inteligente anyway, eh?!) -- but do go direct THERE to enjoy:

En las últimas páginas del libro
The First Hay(na)ku Anthology (2005) los editores Jean Vengua y Mark Young decidieron incluir las palabras de Eileen Tabios para explicar el hallazgo, el desarrollo y la difusión de una nueva forma poética, el Hay(na)ku. De acuerdo a Tabios todo brotó de una idea que Jack Kerouac escribió en una de sus cartas: “Creo que los haikus estadounidenses nunca deberían tener más de tres palabras en un verso.” La poeta pensó que no era suficiente e hizo que el cuerpo del haiku sufriera una cirugía mayor. Si la característica del haiku norteamericano eran las tres palabras por verso, entonces la del filipino sería el número definitivo de palabras por verso, es decir, el verso uno, tendría una palabra, el verso dos, dos, y el verso tres, tres.

El nacimiento del Haiku filipino fue anunciado en el blog de Tabios, “winepoetics.blogspot.com”, y pronto se esparció por todo el mundo. Tabios decidió renombrar a su Haiku filipino con un nombre más largo y pomposo: Philippine Independence Day - Pinoy Haiku, pues el anuncio de Tabios ocurrió un doce de junio, día de la independencia de Filipinas. Afortunadamente, el poeta filipino Vince Gotera escribió en el blog de Tabios sus dudas acerca del nuevo nombre: “Apropiarse del nombre “haiku” presenta muchos problemas prosódicos y postcoloniales (y me refiero a la ‘colonización’ de las Filipinas hecha por los japoneses, entre otras cosas)¨ y sugirió: “Quizás la version Pinoy podría llamarse ‘hay(na)ku’.”

Parte del gozo de traducir los hay(na)ku de
The First Hay(na)ku Anthology es la novedad de la forma y el descontrol que causa en quien lo lee. Más de un lector pensará que el hay(na)ku es un experimento banal y que su traducción es indigna pero la verdad es otra: quien lea, escriba y traduzca un hay(na)ku se encontrará con las mismas dificultades técnicas con las que se encontraría al leer, escribir y traducir un soneto o una sestina.

Y es que las formas poéticas, cualquiera que éstas sean, son artificios verbales que para que funcionen correctamente tienen que engañar al lector hasta el punto en donde sus estructuras se esfumen en el aire y lo dejen solo frente al efecto. Esto mismo, por supuesto, se pretende con su traducción. En México el hay(na)ku también entró por la red. Ernesto Priego esparció el hay(na)ku a través de su blog, “neverneutral.wordpress.com”, e inmediatamente hubo respuesta de colegas y alumnos suyos. Cabe mencionar que Priego es el autor del primer libro completo de hay(na)ku,
Not Even Dogs.

Nota publicada en El Seminario
C.U., 29 de mayo de 2006

Todavía en nuestro idioma la palabra hay(na)ku es extraña y, por lo tanto, difícil de definir. Digamos, por el momento, que nombra una forma poética cuya mayor característica es su aparente banalidad: primer verso, una palabra; segundo verso, dos palabras; tercer verso, tres palabras. La banalidad de la forma se destruye cuando surge una de las características más atractivas del hay(na)ku, la inmediatez. Ésta, obviamente, sería impensable si el hay(na)ku no propiciara el lirismo. Digamos entonces que en la palabra hay(na)ku coexisten tres momentos: la extrañeza, la inmediatez, y el lirismo.

Las traducciones que aquí se presentan fueron realizadas por los miembros del Seminario de Poesía y Traducción de la Facultad de Filosofía y Letras. Cada una presentó el mismo grado de dificultad, y de gozo, que presentaría la traducción de un soneto o de una sestina. Y como sucede con cualquier traducción, éstas, esperamos, tendrán resultados múltiples: divulgar, reflexionar sobre la actividad de traducir, y hacer del hay(na)ku una forma posible en español.

...and the Chatelaine coos and coos at her mischievous hay(na)kus...as they spread their love all over this wide, diverse universe...coooo...

Labels: , , ,


So, apparently, due to having written essays on my poetry which are featured in, amongst other places, Punctuations and Pinoy Poetics, Leny just got tenure at Sonoma State University (Humanities Dept). For Leny: Wooooot!

Yes, award-winning Leny has done other things besides write about Moi in order to get her new title of "Assoc. Prof." But I'm happily taking credit as Lazy Moi loves nothing better than latching on to your coattails. So swish your tail my way --

And Moi can do this for you who look with your ears: my "best of..." pick in the current (humongous Summer) issue of Artforum. Subject to reproduction effects, my picks are the smiling gargoyle by Tom Friedman, part of his June 1-July 21 exhibition at the Lever House, NY; and the painting of naked babe with guns by Maria Lassnig for her exhibition from June 10-July 28 at Hauser & Wirth Zurich. Yawn, I mean, yadda...

Labels: , , ,

Monday, July 02, 2007


Well, that was interesting -- limping across the Sonora Desert peering at but staying away from the misnamed Teddy Bear cholla cacti and learning how to tell the age of looming Saguaro.

During my online absence, at least 2 things happened. First, the brilliant Thylias Moss joined poetry blogland HERE. I welcome her Tuning Fork to the blogosphere!

Secondly, Meritage Press' Tiny Book series garnered enough sales of Dan Waber's all alone again to donate two "flocks of chicks" to Heifer International, which notes:

Chickens are a real value. Starting at six months, they can lay up to 200 eggs a year — a reliable source of protein for children who otherwise subsist mostly on starches. Extra eggs can be sold to pay for school, clothes and medicine. And in the vegetable garden, chickens peck at bugs and weeds, scratch up the soil and enrich it with droppings.

Well, yadda: Poetry feeds the world!

Do keep those orders coming in for Tiny Books! I'ma tellin' ya -- you might be able to retire on this collectible someday!

Meanwhile, here's how I fed myself recently from another list of whines & wines:

FRAGILE REPLACEMENTS, poems by William Allegrezza

ALL ALONE AGAIN, poem by Dan Waber

BONE PAGODA, poems by Susan Tichy

BELLUM LETTERS, poems by Michelle Detorie

DAPHNOMANCY * improvisations, poems by Michelle Detorie

THE CASE OF THE LOST OBJECTIVE (CASE), poems and visual poetry by Sheila Murphy

LEADS, poems by Rochelle Ratner

THE STATES, Vols. I and II, tear-out post-card book of poems and photographs with poems by Craig Foltz

BROKEN WORLD, poems by Joseph Lease



ALL THIS FALLING AWAY, poems by Tim Armentrout

THE CONTORTIONS, poems by Nicole Mauro


WOW R U A BOT?, poems by Anna Madison


CLEAVING, poems by Dion Farqhar


PASSING OVER, poems by Norman Finkelstein

THE BOOK OF OCEAN, poems by Maryrose Larkin


THE HOT GARMENT OF LOVE IS INSECURE, poems by Elizabeth Reddin

FREE FALL, visual art/poetry by Nick Piombino

DISASTER 3, poetry journal edited by Marcus Civin

HOLY THE FIRM, meditations on nature/philosophy by Annie Dillard

DOG YEARS, memoir by Mark Doty


THE QUILTER'S HOMECOMING, novel by Jennifer Chiavirini

THE GUARDIAN, novel by Dee Henderson

TRUE COURAGE, novel by Dee Henderson

THE HEALER, novel by Dee Henderson

THE EXILE, novel by Allen Folsom

2003 Kistler chardonnay
2003 Dutch Henry chardonnay
2003 Dutch Henry zinfandel
1994 Eileen Hardy shiraz
2000 "Hazy Blur" shiraz
1996 Gevrey-Chambertin Geantet-Pansiot
2004 J.J. Prum Wehlenuhr Sonnenuhr Kabinett
2004 Paul Hobbs Barndoor NV cabernet
1995 Vega Sicilia Valbuena No. 5
2001 Campaccio Terrabianca

Labels: , ,