How unpredictably
the threads of friends
weave the tapestry
of our lives.
My friend Rachel asked me to pose for her Open Studio visual artists gathering at University of Illinois Springfield (UIS). Others we know had been afforded the honor: Tom Irwin, Russel Brazzel . . . . who knows how many others? She had seen my “performance” at [...]
Archive for the ‘writing’ Category
Posing
Posted in arts, poetry, writing on November 26, 2009 | Leave a Comment »
Stranger to Milk
Posted in writing on November 25, 2009 | Leave a Comment »
In October, with a little spare change in the checking account, I decided to buy something I had not purchased since I was an English major,living in an apartment off the MacMurray College campus at the ripe old age of 25. I bought two boxes of tuna helper. I didn’t knock myself out and buy [...]
Clarifying the Record
Posted in writing on November 21, 2009 | Leave a Comment »
The editor of a Springfield business monthly, who has been very good to me 11 of the past 12 months wrote me concerned I had given readers the wrong impression my my prosy H&Q yesterday. I clarified the point at Facebook, and after considering how not all readers are Facebook friends, I think it fair [...]
Focused Frontally
Posted in arts, poetry, writing on November 20, 2009 | Leave a Comment »
Focused Frontally
by Job Conger
written 10:58 am, November 19, 2009
The coffee shop is not a playing field;
it is a stadium for ones and twos,
and our table of six,
watching the unfolding of
the explicit rationale
of those who have decided
to be where they are.
Everyone’s focused on books except
the chatty 22-year-old at the next table
on a cell phone,
tempering his voice
like [...]
Early Friday Departure
Posted in writing on November 20, 2009 | Leave a Comment »
There was a time when I wanted to get the hell out of the office at “work” to drive home, plunge into a fresh gallon of Carlo Rossi Burgundy or go almost right to bed to nap and sleep my rancor away. That time was about an hour and 20 minutes ago, and I’m taking [...]
So I Attended Poetry Parnassus
Posted in arts, poetry, writing on November 19, 2009 | Leave a Comment »
It was all thanks to happy coincidence. I had scheduled a 9:30 interview on Greenbriar for an article slated for the December business monthly. For the first time, Poetry Parnassus moved their monthly meeting from the fourth Thursday of the month to the third. Thursday four this month is Thanksgiving. When I exited a fine [...]
Poetry Discussion Group Meets Tomorrow Morning
Posted in poetry, writing on November 18, 2009 | Leave a Comment »
Anita Stienstra, President of Springfield Poets and Writers writes . . . .
We moved PP up a week to this Thursday (tomorrow) because next week is Thanksgiving.
Poetry Parnassus
Thursday, November 19
10:30am
Barnes and Noble
Remember to bring copies of your poems. Attached is last month’s exercise for those interested.
Hope you can make it.
Anita
=============
Write well . . . . [...]
The Poet “Spoke” at Vachel House November 7
Posted in arts, poetry, writing on November 7, 2009 | 1 Comment »
My annual presentation at Vachel Lindsay Home State Historic Site (Vachel House) every year since the first year the event was hosted has been special to me. Only Christmas (another birthday, wouldn’t you know) is more important to me, and Vachel’s birthday has repaid my focus with far more personal satisfaction. During the early years [...]
Vachel’s Birthday, TWO Gallery Receptions and Classical Music Saturday, November 7
Posted in arts, poetry, writing on November 6, 2009 | Leave a Comment »
On Saturday, I will see and interact with more good people than most folks engage in a decade of Thanksgivings and Christmases. Here is my clarion call for Honey & Quinine readers 60 miles or closer to Springfield, Illinois to engage some or all of what follows . . .
Starting at 10:30 at Vachel Lindsay [...]
To Know One
Posted in arts, poetry, writing on November 4, 2009 | Leave a Comment »
To Know One
By Job Conger
I will never understand how your friend’s baby shower
Went to pieces over coconut cake.
I will never understand how my nephew got sick
After digging up clams at the lake.
But I do understand your arm linked to mine
And a future that I teasure so.
With your hand holding mine, I share something divine.
That’s all [...]
