PoetryRepairShop 03.12:138

PoetryRepairShop 03.12:138

BESS KEMP on Editors Editing - I'm not angered by [editors] editing. I agree with your slant on some of it and have no problem at all with you doing it. If it offended me I'd just withdraw the poem. Plus, I tend to retool my own stuff a lot.

Many 'poets' feel their work is untouchable. They submit the same works to several editors and expect each editor to publish the work as-is; the truth of it is that each magazine and each editor has a different slant on things (so, for example, there are MANY good magazines focused on environment). There are two options: write incontestably sure and clear (which many of us lack) or surrender some of the poetic to editor/s.

BESS KEMP

Little Urges

 
he watches from his window
the every day children
many too young it seems

to be out alone on 
an early morning street
 
so easy just to ask
one to come help find his
kitten or see his parrot

oh he wanted something
all right he wanted things

he knew are bad and he
tries to control wanting
often after awhile 

he allows himself
one visit maybe

boy in a yellow shirt
or girl with white sneakers
with little purple flowers
 
they were just so sweet and 
very willing to be friends
and for that he was grateful
 
now he watches the crowd
to see one child alone

dragging a large backpack…
he offers his help asks
for a favor in return

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PoetryRepairShop 03.12:138

Napoleon Bonaparte (1769-1821), was one of the greatest military commanders of all time; he conquered most of Europe and did much to modernize the nations he ruled. Many components of the Napoleonic Code still thrive today. A driven man, Napoleon once said, “Power is my mistress.” In 1803 he sold the Louisiana territory to the United States. Due to his disastrous retreat from Moscow in 1812, Napoleon's enemies were able to force an abdication in 1814; a suicide attempt was unsuccessful, and he was exiled to the island of Elba. In 1815 he staged a dramatic comeback, only to be defeated at Waterloo and again exiled, this time to Saint Helena in the remote South Atlantic, where he died of stomach cancer on May 5, 1821 - WARD KELLEY

find more Kelley poetry on PoetryRepairShop

WARD KELLEY
First Penance on Elba

The pond, an inverted umbrella missing the customary wooden handle . . . the waters wish to reflect a different forest, a deeper woods than those surrounding its shores of fallen branches, just as your soul yearns to reflect another body than the one it finds encumbering itself in circles incessantly. Perhaps there is a dance or battle to demonstrate this tendency, perhaps some deity can plant a handle down the core of your soul and affix you to the earth for all of us . . . you understand this, I'm certain . . . maybe connect your soul more readily to your body, a happy thought, that might save us all the never-ending pondering and pillaging.
copyright WARD KELLEY from histories of souls published here with the poet's permissions
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