national poetry month

Spring by Edna St. Vincent Millay (A Poem & A Picture)

/ Janna Hill / 2 Comments

 

SPRING FLOWERS A Poem & A Picture Spring

From Second April (Courtesy of everypoet.com Classic Archives)

SPRING

By Edna St. Vincent Millay

To what purpose, April, do you return again?

Beauty is not enough.

You can no longer quiet me with the redness

Of little leaves opening stickily.

I know what I know.

The sun is hot on my neck as I observe

The spikes of the crocus.

The smell of the earth is good.

It is apparent that there is no death.

But what does that signify?

Not only under ground are the brains of men

Eaten by maggots,

Life in itself

Is nothing,

An empty cup, a flight of uncarpeted stairs.

It is not enough that yearly, down this hill,

April

Comes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers.

Don’t you love the last line(s)? They do strike a chord with me — maybe because I am just living out loud and flinging cake against the wall, right?!

Getting Me Back (The Voices Within) released this month and is now available in digital or paperback. AND to show my appreciation for your support there will be a gift of random books by ‘moi’ each weekend in April. Check in, check them out and follow my Author Page at Amazon for future updates.

P.S. A little history on Edna St. Vincent Millay: After her husband’s death from a stroke in 1949 following the removal of a lung, Millay suffered a great deal; she drank recklessly, and had to be hospitalized. A month later she was back at her farm (Steepletop) where she  passed a lonely year working on a new book of poems. She died in 1950 of a heart attack. For more about her works and life visit Poetry Foundation.

 

As rust falls from the anchor (A Poem & A Picture)

/ Janna Hill / Leave a comment

And on we roll..

Week two of NPM (A Poem & I Picture) where I share a photo taken by me and a poem by some awesome poet. I hope you all had a lovely weekend.

Anchor for A Poem & A Picture

 

 

By Chris Green (Poetry Soup)

Where do sandcastles go

when the tide engulfs the view and

lonely shorelines crest in tear drops

beneath white capped dream chasers,

foam laced erasers combing sanded wishes,

taking towers in the water’s rage

as moats become minor indentations

on a beach bathed in the moon light,

moving gleams in metronome tickling

as our hearts wash out to sea

drowning in the depths of forbidden love

and with my final breath,

salt water drenched I profess

that forbidden or not, I love you

and the lighthouse shines its orbiting light

as I go under for the last time

happy in my declaration

as rust falls from the anchor

and I wait until we meet again,

on the island of meant to be

 

Psst, if you want to read some of my poetry Getting Me Back (The Voices Within) released this month and is now available in digital or paperback.

Be Drunk by Charles Baudelaire (A Poem & A Picture)

/ Janna Hill / Leave a comment
Be Drunk A Poem & A Picture

Just FYI: If you pass out around me I will take your picture and show it to the world.

Charles Baudelaire was born in Paris on April 9, 1821 and died August 31, 1867 at the age of forty-six, reportedly of syphilis. Another tidbit;  When Charles Baudelaire’s Les Fleurs du mal (The Flowers of Evil) was published in June of 1857, thirteen of its 100 poems were arraigned for inappropriate content. On August 20, 1857, French lawyer Ernest Pinard, who had also famously prosecuted French author Gustave Flaubert, prosecuted Baudelaire for the collection…. Baudelaire was charged with a fine of 300 francs (later reduced to 50), and Les Fleurs du mal suffered from the controversy, becoming known only as a depraved, pornographic work. Now onto the main attraction.

Be Drunk

You have to be always drunk. That’s all there is to it—it’s the only way. So as not to feel the horrible burden of time that breaks your back and bends you to the earth, you have to be continually drunk.

But on what? Wine, poetry or virtue, as you wish. But be drunk.

And if sometimes, on the steps of a palace or the green grass of a ditch, in the mournful solitude of your room, you wake again, drunkenness already diminishing or gone, ask the wind, the wave, the star, the bird, the clock, everything that is flying, everything that is groaning, everything that is rolling, everything that is singing, everything that is speaking. . .ask what time it is and wind, wave, star, bird, clock will answer you: “It is time to be drunk! So as not to be the martyred slaves of time, be drunk, be continually drunk! On wine, on poetry or on virtue as you wish.”

 ♥ ♠ ♣ ♦

Well we made it through week one of NPM. Yay! Let’s all get drunk and get skip the syphilis.

Here comes ‘tha plug’ : I’ve been drunk a time or two, I’ve also published a few hundred poems but I must confess I have never had a STD. And guess what? My dysfunctional disease-free [possibly controversial] book Getting Me Back (The Voices Within) released this month and is now available in digital or paperback. Yeah, I will be saying it again, and again… and again.

Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard by Thomas Gray (A Poem & A Picture)

/ Janna Hill / Leave a comment

A Poem & A Picture Graveyard Poets

Elegy Written in a Country Churchyard is pretty lengthy so I am posting only the last of it titled The Epitaph. Check out The Poetry Foundation if you would like to read the poem in its’ entirety and read more about the Graveyard poet known as Thomas Gray. What is a Graveyard poet? Well it is not that red rooster in the photo, as far as I could tell he can’t even speak. It’s possible he was just ignoring me; roosters are like that. Anyway… a Graveyard poet is one who writes about such morbid things relating to – oh, you already guessed it, graveyards.

THE EPITAPH

Here rests his head upon the lap of Earth

A youth to Fortune and to Fame unknown.

Fair Science frown’d not on his humble birth,

And Melancholy mark’d him for her own.

 

Large was his bounty, and his soul sincere,

Heav’n did a recompense as largely send:

He gave to Mis’ry all he had, a tear,

He gain’d from Heav’n (’twas all he wish’d) a friend.

 

No farther seek his merits to disclose,

Or draw his frailties from their dread abode,

(There they alike in trembling hope repose)

The bosom of his Father and his God.

 

 I (by the way) have a poem titled My Epitaph. Yes, really!  Getting Me Back (The Voices Within) released this month and is now available in digital or paperback.

 

Cloud- by Sandra Cisneros (A Poem & A Picture)

/ Janna Hill / 9 Comments

 “If you are a poet, you will see clearly that there is a cloud floating in this sheet of paper.”—Thich Nhat Hanh

 Cloud

Before you became a cloud, you were an ocean, roiled and murmuring like a mouth.

You were the shadow of a cloud crossing over a field of tulips.

You were the tears of a man who cried into a plaid handkerchief.

You were a sky without a hat.

Your heart puffed and flowered like sheets drying on a line.

And when you were a tree, you listened to trees and the tree things trees told you.

You were the wind in the wheels of a red bicycle.

You were the spidery Maria tattooed on the hairless arm of a boy in downtown Houston.

You were the rain rolling off the waxy leaves of a magnolia tree.

A lock of straw-colored hair wedged between the mottled pages of a Victor Hugo novel.

A crescent of soap.

A spider the color of a finger nail.

The black nets beneath the sea of olive trees.

A skein of blue wool.

A tea saucer wrapped in newspaper.

An empty cracker tin.

A bowl of blueberries in heavy cream.

White wine in a green-stemmed glass.

 And when you opened your wings to wind, across the punched-tin sky above a prison courtyard, those condemned to death and those condemned to life watched how smooth and sweet a white cloud glides.

*Sandra Cisneros (born December 20, 1954) is an American writer best known for her acclaimed first novel The House on Mango Street (1984) and her subsequent short story collection Woman Hollering Creek and Other Stories (1991). She is the recipient of numerous awards including a National Endowment for the Arts Fellowship, and is regarded as a key figure in Chicana literature.

Oh my goodness, those final lines left me a little misty eyed. I do not recall reading Sandra Cisneros before but I certainly enjoyed Cloud and in case I haven’t told you 1000 times  Getting Me Back (The Voices Within) released this month and is now available in digital or paperback. I will be saying it again, and again… and again in case you missed it. As a matter of fact I am going to paste it on every NPM post.

P.S. If you have a recommendation for a poem (even your own) Get in Touch

We Got Goals – It’s National Poetry Month Baby!

/ Janna Hill / Leave a comment

Is that a lame title? I can’t help help it, it made me laugh. If you could hear the fella in my head you’d laugh too — or not.

Anywho…

It was a lovely long weekend but now I am back. You wanna see some pictures? Okay.

Pardon my wipers…
Raindrops aren’t falling on my head…
She’ll be comin’ ’round the mountain…

Starting tomorrow I will be posting A Poem & Picture. I can’t guarantee you that I will post daily throughout April but I will earnestly try for two or three a week. There, I’ve set a goal.

The goals of National Poetry Month are to:

  • highlight the extraordinary legacy and ongoing achievement of American poets
  • encourage the reading of poems
  • assist teachers in bringing poetry into their classrooms
  • increase the attention paid to poetry by national and local media
  • encourage increased publication and distribution of poetry books, and
  • encourage support for poets and poetry.

It is NPM, that stands for National Poetry Month baby! Ahhh, I crack me up.

And in case I haven’t told you 1000 times  Getting Me Back (The Voices Within) released this month and is now available in digital or paperback. I will be saying it again, and again… and again in case you missed it. 😉

Before I Go…

/ Janna Hill / 1 Comment

A couple of things before I go…

Perpetual Series has a new cover. The cover was created from a photo I took several years ago. Sadly that flower no longer grows in my garden.

PERPETUAL THE SERIES 2017

 

 

 

 

 

 

Getting Me Back releases tomorrow [Friday March 31st] just in time for NPM and yes, that is my hand on the cover.

Getting Me Back- The Voices Within 2 (897x1280)

 

 

 

 

 

Now I have to run and pack but remember April is only a couple of days away. You all know that April is NPM/National Poetry Month so get ready for it [boys and girls] because I will be back next week and there will be poetry. 😀

 

Bat-Shit Crazy & Indie Update

/ Janna Hill / 8 Comments

Can you believe it has been 4 years since I posted The First Year as an Indie (Lessons Learned)?

So much has changed… yet stayed the same.

I have created new works and destroyed old ones.

I have watched literary markets as well as loved ones come and go.

I pretty much left the ‘pertinent’ social media scenes. Why? For a few reasons, just pick one or make one up – that’s always fun.

New authors have asked, “Did decreasing media presence hurt book sales?”

My answer: “Laws yes! But you know what? I still do not give a flying rat’s fanny.”

I am sorry if that’s not the ‘right’ answer but it is my answer… my truth.  That is the beauty of being an independent author.

Another truth is I was in “an unhealthy state of dealing with stress” – that is a sophisticated way of saying I was “bat-shit crazy in the midst of a nervous breakdown.”

Social media [as well as life] was becoming a struggle to keep up with; it was also getting in the way of Getting Me Back.

Getting Me Back (The Voices Within) is scheduled to release March 31st, it is available for pre-order now. Go ahead and order it so you will have it in time for NPM (National Poetry Month)

If you have never had a nervous breakdown, I would not recommend embarking on that journey.

If you want a peek at what my journey was/is like, I’d recommend reading Getting Me Back.

If you are currently bat-shit crazy in the midst of a nervous breakdown definitely get some help and read Getting Me Back. Hey, we can journey together.

 

P.S. Happy Saint Patrick’s Day

saint patricks day card (1024x727)

A Poem & A Picture (Why Poetry)

/ Janna Hill / 3 Comments

Well this wraps up my contribution for April 2016 National Poetry Month but remember, you do not need a special occasion to appreciate poetry. A poem a day keeps doldrums away.

Resting in the Waves (1024x684)

Why Poetry

by Janna Hill

Because it hurts deeper

Tastes sweeter

Laughs louder

And lets me know I’m alive