Summer's Almost Here

Summer arrives officially at 6:07 AM, Thursday, June 21, 2018. wVw returns with Summer Weekly Workshops, Sunday, July 8 at 4 PM. Weekly Workshops - Sunday and Wednesday afternoons, Thursday evenings - begin the week of July 8 and continue through August 31 (8 workshop meetings). Register Sunday Workshops, Wednesday Workshops, Thursday Workshops.

In response to the many times writers have asked, what do I do with my first drafts, this summer wVw writers will be offered opportunities to re-see, seek patterns or themes, go deeper, get to know your characters and what makes them tick, add layers of detail and texture, or subtract what's unnecessary. We will strike a balance between writing new work and re-visiting previously written work depending on the needs of registered writers.

Next Write Saturday, July 7, Wappinger Falls, NY.

This summer wVw will offer Private One-on-One Conferences with me. Only writers who have written in a 2018 weekly workshop or Write Saturday may register for private conferences. Conferences will be scheduled at times convenient for me and the writer. Limited registration. Contact me by email, This email address is being protected from spambots. You need JavaScript enabled to view it..

Amherst Writers and Artists holds as one of its primary principles A writer is someone who writes. Many wVw writers look forward to weekly workshops or Write Saturdays as a way to hold onto that principle and maintain a regular writing practice. Whether you choose this summer to write in a wVw workshop, a writing institute or retreat, or a personal writing practice, I hope you continue to write and tell the stories only you can tell during summer's long days. Enjoy, relax and write.

There's nothing like a cold drink and a good story on a hot summer day.

Kate

 

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the river now

two legs
four legs
legs to stand on
legs to talk on
mute except where we meet
at the ground
our ground, we agree

she spins it
with each step
a river of sticks
to stand on
movement always makes
my heart
beat back
I remember
even the frozen
moves at a level
pacing
quiet

we call it death
when the legs fall down even
the tree kins its knee
no blood here, I can't see it
no blood here, she said
its floating
all around us

the river now
moves on
stone stays
stone pile
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I Tell You This

​I do not hold onto my anger
  Or disappointments
And that affects my poetry
 
Housing projects
Bullies
Single mom
Welfare
Brother's hand me downs
 
Abuses by boys not sure yet
How to treat a woman
  Or girl
With breasts already bigger than
                                    their experiences
Dreaming of breasts as comfort
Grabbing them for confirmation
 
Child for a husband
Who hit with words
Withheld emotion
  And conversation
  And the will to provide
Sex as a privilege
Not desire
  But punishment

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wvw Spring Starts in Two Weeks

Think Spring. If you are a gardener, you may have ordered seeds to plant and they are already sprouting waiting for the soil to warm enough to be put to bed. But if you are a procrastinator like me, you may just be drooling over the stack of seed catalogs that have arrived in the mail. My personal favorite isn't a seed catalog but the David Austin Rose catalog. Even if you never plant a rose, you can love this catalog.

As you anticipate for crocus and tulips to bloom, why not register for wVw Spring Workshops and Write Saturday:

Sunday afternoons, 4 - 7 PM, beginning March 11 - Register

Wednesday afternoons, 1 - 4 PM, beginning March 14 - Register

Thursday evenings, 6:30 - 9:30 PM, beginning March 15 - Register

Write Saturday, March 10, 9 AM - 4 PM, Ulster Park - Register

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Poems by Tim Brennan

A Feint Louse or

a faint sound a might be augury
I see you've got the door in
the door I see you in you installed
the door I see a slight
crack of light through really
around a crack of light always finds a way
a sound that niggles at memory the same
like the word surf or a conversation
eg. the salad bar on a saint's day after church
(affection pulling him into the room)
a fair or a fare or an affair or the
head raised again he sees her push her
hair from her face
another phone call from no one announced
fanning hot air from room to room
she sits at the desk across the room
flowers die in twilight

 

Via

her vagrant hammering on the dias on Sundays
the regimental flag forge-draped over the gate
and whether or not we're in the catalpa the cows aren't

after-hours in grasses perched on one leg
the blood draining past yes or no
any movement will be in its deliberation (delineation; linearity)
typically categorized
movement of the spine and shoulders
of long-lines tuna lost-waxed and crucified
spread out to dream on a grass set of tables
of salt and whiskers ointment-jarflies
a scam of eggs and bushspring desires

words catch in a crow's throat
feet catch at the mouth
bee
the cramped quartet's positions in a rising sea
sec
the levels of meaninglessness
in constructive desires

a fraction
a fiction

leafing through sunlight

 

Timothy Brennan is a poet, painter and woodworker who has lived and worked in San Francisco, in Brooklyn, and now in New Paltz, NY, where he has been renovating his old house for over twenty years with no end in sight. He has had poems published in The Chronogram, Awosting Alchemy, The Blue Collar Review, and in the 2011 and the 2014 edition of the Wallkill Valley Writers' Anthology. He assists in presenting Next Year's Words: A New Paltz Reading Forum. 

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369 Hits
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