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Archive for July, 2009

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This poem was inspired by an essay my daughter     wrote about her Dad when she was a kid.  It was called Superman.  I wrote the poem a few months ago.

Ruth Pennebaker’s July 21st post reminded me of the poem.  Ruth is a wonderful writer, and I come away from her site with much food for thought.

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©2005 Amber Yoder                                                                                             Exquisite Flaws

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The above picture is from a gallery Amber created about scars.  The gallery contained photographs and stories about people with physical scars:  cancer survivors, a World War II vet, children who had come to the U.S. for surgery, etc.

Amber also put these scar stories in a book she made herself called                     Exquisite Flaws.

The gallery showcased the beauty of scars.  Yes, beauty.  It was a physically beautiful presentation.  The stories were fascinating.

Contrary to what some people think, “survivors” are not pitiful.

My jokes are by no means intended to downplay the seriousness of the subject.  I mourn the friends I have lost.  We are not special people just because we continue to breathe.  Obviously, I still have many fears.

But humor has been a big part of our story.  I hope it always will be.


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Superman Part II

Julie Buffaloe-Yoder

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I never knew cancer

was funny

until you named

your IV pole Rod.

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Rod was a man of steel

down cold, white halls.

He never left your side.

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The nurses who poked too hard

were Ratchet, Brumhilda, Big Bertha.

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You were Frankenstein after chemo,

hardly able to bend your knees

to walk to our old, hot Dodge

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also called The Batmobile.

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When they put you

in the sterile room,

the man next door died

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so you joked

about tapioca–

your kryptonite,

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my crazy cat eyes

behind the mask,

my pink fingernails

touching you

through lead gloves

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the thin film

of the bubble

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the glow of your

yellow-green skin

your skull, your bones.

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When blood counts

in the last stage were

so low it was not

humanly possible,

you turned into

Dracula’s cousin.

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Over a decade later,

you tell me a joke

about a politician

and The X-Men

at the doctor’s office.

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Yes, it is really over.

Yes, it is really gone.

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Now new villains

hover in a bubble

on the horizon.

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Foreclosure.

Bad credit.

The bread line.

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The growling worry

of getting put

in the woods

with werewolves.

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Still, you come

through the door,

brown eyes blazing

after sixteen hours

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of sweaty work

at a crappy job.

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Under bright

kitchen lights,

you puff out

your chest

and suddenly

I have no fear.

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Captain America

has arrived.

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Let the big screen

bring it on, baby.

We’ll kick ass.

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Or else

we’ll die

laughing.

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Two of my poems have been included in Don’t Call Me Plath.  Edited by Jenifer Wills of Literary Mary, this is a beautiful project that highlights twelve women from the small press world.  It has been a pleasure to meet Jenifer.  I love her poetry and work as an editor.

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You’ll find excellent work in this edition by Lynn Alexander, Leah Angstman, Louise Beech, Aleathia Drehmer, Betsy Lindberg, Lans Nelson, Domeka Parker, Sana Rafiq, Rebecca Schumejda, Cheryl Townsend, and Jenifer Wills.

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You’ll see me on pages 22-25.  Yep, that’s my crazy face.  A couple of months ago, someone was screaming for a picture of me, so I took it in the bathroom mirror after grubbing in the woods all day.  I’m ready for the big time now.  The beautiful one on p. 25 is my Amber.  My poems are Big Barbie and Recipe For Poetic Genius.

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To read Don’t Call Me Plath, click HERE.

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Thanks for reading!

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Nobody Saw It Coming

Julie Buffaloe-Yoder

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Sweet Cheeks Jim

got drunk and broke

an empty bottle of

Mad Dog 20/20

and a bar stool,

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then carved up his

girlfriend’s face

under a streetlight

.

in the alley

behind

Whitey’s Bar.

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We found her

an hour later

laying in the

sticky light

with no eyes.

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The cops found Jim

at his grandma’s

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eating cherry pie

and vanilla ice cream

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listening to

Coast to Coast

on the radio.

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The next night,

the news team

showed up

at Whitey’s

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and we all said

what a nice guy

Jim had been

in school

and nobody

.

saw this coming.

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Then we sat there

quiet, staring

at our beer,

listening

to the ticking

.

of loose screws

in bar stools

.

trying to hide

the itch

of bullshit

in our eyes.

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Issue #3 of ouroboros review is out, and I’m tickled to death.   Translation:

I’m as happy as a little school girl.   If you are a regular reader here, I’m sure

you’ve heard me talk about how beautiful ouroboros is.  This issue is no

exception.  It is outstanding.

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Ouroboros Review is edited by Jo Hemmant and Christine Swint, two very

talented poets who have taken the small press by storm.   This edition

features the work of John Siddique and Denise Duhamel.  You’ll also

find excellent work by John Walsh, Susan Richardson, Louisa Adjoa Parker,

Michelle McGrane, Carolee Sherwood, Karen Head, Matthew Hittinger, and

many more fine poets and artists.  I always get nervous when I start naming

names, because I want to kick myself later.  I don’t mean to leave anyone

out.  It’s all fantastic.

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Also, be sure to check out the reviews and interviews.  Michelle McGrane has

a great interview with John Siddique.  Michelle is my friend from

peony moon.  If you haven’t checked out her blog, you’re missing a world

of great poetry.  Michelle also has a chapbook coming out via

Pindrop Press in 2010.  I can’t wait to read it.  Michelle is the author of

Fireflies & Blazing Stars (2002) and Hybrid (2003).

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Did I mention the art?  Yes, ouroboros review has beautiful art and

photography, too.  But I’ll try to stop glowing for a minute, so you can see it

for yourself.  Check out ouroboros review HERE.   If you would like to

purchase a print copy, click on “Bookstore.”  The print copies are beautiful,

and I love holding them in my hands.

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Congratulations and a big tip of the hat to Jo and Christine on ouroboros

review!

*****

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UPDATE:  The next reading period for ouroboros review has begun and

will continue until the end of August.  One change is the art– ouroboros is

now looking for black and white photos or paintings.

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