blog:http://edenwaterspress.blogspot.com/

Hi there from Eden Waters Press

2009-02-04T15:33:00.000-08:00

Travel! The theme of the year. I have been in Hamoi in May. Who would have thought thirty years ago that Hanoi would ever welcome outsiders. We were even able to visit Ho Chi Minh's complex of houses/ offices/temples. There are no remnants that I saw of the Vietnamese war in Hanoi except for one amputee who was posing for pictures for money, and a tour of the "Hanoi Hiton," where John McCain was kept. This prison is a macabre, sureal reminder of a gruesome past.Otherwise, Hanoi is cheerful, welcoming to Americans, a maze of terrifying traffic crossing the street, because cars and motorcyles come in all directions. You have to find a hole in the fiendish onslaught and work your way through. It's like being in a video game. We stayed in Old Hanoi (within the ancient city walls) for several nights, and then moved to the uppercrust Americanized section for a last day -- ian afternon inn the new and improved Hanoi Hilton, with workout facilities that were just like home. And in the evening we stayed at a posh hotel, just to blow our money. It was like an American Hilton. Fun, good, clean. And then I had to leave. Ileft out our boat trip to the hidden caves where American prisoners scracthed messages on rocks, and Vietnamese fighters, hiding from the emeny, marshalling forces here, also wrote messages on rocks. It's a huge cave. I'm sure there are many more passages than we we allowed into. But it showed the difficulty the USA had in fighting the stupid Vietnamese war. We could never win. They always had somethere to hide. They knew the terrain. And what were we doing there anyway? War is not the answer. I was so moved to be in Hanoi, a former enemy bastion, now commercial center, friendly, in fact, busy outsoucring goods. Vietnam has lived through major battles against the French and the Americans. It emerges as a unified country, determined to be untouched by the atrocities it has sufferedl

2009-02-01T15:38:00.000-08:00

Allston Journal: Allston Journal

2009-02-01T15:34:00.000-08:00

Allston Journal: Allston Journal

Chad Parenteau "Self Portrait in Fire"

2009-01-04T03:01:00.000-08:00

This slim journal is, as the title suggests, on fire. Lots more to say about this journal, but it's 5 a.m. I'm jet lagged, still on New Zealand time, and I want to give Chad the thoughtfulness he deserves for this unique collection of poems, and his very unique, distorted in a brilliant way, poetic voice. Good night for now, but I'll return to his journal again, in this blog.

2009-01-03T23:10:00.000-08:00

"Sacred Fools" is a press created by Melissa Guillet and Ryk McIntyre. Theyhave published two previous anthologies and seven chapbooks. Melissa recently published an anthology of poems about the 60's called "Appleseeds, or how we got here..." It's well put together, starting and ending with poems about Johny Appleseed by respectively Sharon Lynn Griffiths and Kit Wallach. There are sixty poems in all. I've got two poems in it, "Seascape" and "The Ride." I'm honored that Melissa nominated me for a Pushcart prize, and proud to be in this great collection of poems that reflect on Americana, the American Dream. Lyn Lifshin writes about Barbie's emptiness, Jade Sylvan's "Back Home" is a gorgeous rumination on home and roots, Valerie Lawson shocks the reader with her description of the war in Vietnam. Ryk's poem, "Penny Candy Store" describes the magic of childhood eagerness in a candy store where sugar will take him "far away from here." Melissa's poem, "Memory Garden" haunts the reader with images of abandonned drive-in movies and playgrounds. The journal has a terrific appleseed cover. All the poems come straight from the heart. Melissa is an editor with vision. This collection is eclectic, comprehensive and a rare, real vision of the sixties--some things I remembered vividly and many other poets' perspectives I discovered in reading the journal. I heard Ryk McIntyre read at Out of the Blue Gallery in Boston last Fall, but missed Melissa's reading there because of the damn flu. Oh well.Hope she comes back this way. This journal has a tasteful appleseed cover encompassing a wide variety of wonderful poems. Please read. It will take you back.

2008-12-11T02:01:00.000-08:00

The mural they painted on the wall of the maternity ward in the hospital. Those kids are really something.

2008-12-11T02:00:00.000-08:00

The town

2008-12-11T01:59:00.001-08:00

The school rom

2008-12-11T01:59:00.000-08:00

This is a group of women from Kenya, the town where Yvonne worked and continues to go back to

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pictures

2008-12-11T00:11:00.000-08:00

these kids are holding their first sheets of art paper. My friend Yvonne Baginsky has been in Kenya teaching art and helping with a solar project. They need money. Who doesn't? It looks like an ordinary picture but can you remember the day you held your first sheet of paper? They painted a mural on the maternity ward of the hospital and they did a lot of drawing. Good stuff.
The other picture is from a woman in Norway. I enhanced it so it looks like a spider. Wierd stuff. More to come. This picture is destined for our Journey edition of Eden Waters Press we're working on right now. I'm taking a short break to go to New Zealand, then back to the press. Check out the old pictures from our trip to Hanoi. We've been doing it up this year. Lots of poems came out of this inspiration, and I love reading about other people's journeys in the submissions we've received for the magazine. By the way, we are broke. Contributions are so welcome. Every accepted contributer receives a complimentary copy and the publishing process itself is expensive, and Bush has ruined our economy -- my economy. I see so many homeless people--we covered that in our last issue. So we need to get away. If it gets any worse I'm heading out. So Please, send us your rubles, your rubies, and your pennies. Anything is welcome to help us get this issue to fruition. We love your work. We want to share all our journeys, including ones to the bank, so mundane. Enjoy the pictures. I'm going to upload more of Kenya.
And Happy holidays everyone. I hope your next year is happy and healthy and full of good writing and strong thoughts.

2008-12-11T00:09:00.000-08:00

Tivoli tower

2008-12-10T23:44:00.000-08:00

2007-11-27T13:37:00.001-08:00

Hanoi

2007-11-27T13:00:00.001-08:00

Hang your laundry on the roof (our hotel was one story higher than our neighbor's house, so we had a bird's eye view). Trash gets collected every night. The carts come by your house ringing a bell so you can bring out your junk.

This is Hanoi. Property values are calulated by width, so buildings are NARROW and high, one story piled on another
Yes, folks, there is electricity in Vietnam. This is a stunning view of the power lines supplying our hotel in Halang Bay, a tourist town south of Hanoi. People live on boats all over this Bay, and sell pearls, cigarettes, and snacks from their boats. The pearls are about $15.00 for earrings and a single strand. They are grainy to the teeth, as real pearls should be. I'll let you know when and if mine melt when I have them on on a sunny day. Here's a vision. They melt and suddenly I am back in Halang Bay, hiking in the surrounding mountains, kayaking in the bay, exploring the limestone caves. Suddenly I am back in Pirate times and have discovered a treasure trove in one of the corners of a cave that goes on ffor mles. Suddenly I am a Viet Cong soldier hiding from the Americans in this labyrinth that I know that the American doesn't know. Suddenly an American soldier who has discovered me is a skull leering from a chalky pool, still mouthing the words, "Yes America will free the word. Yes we will win this war and all wars against countries that can be of advantage to us. Yes I have a wife and family. Yes I wanted to go to college. Yes I signed up for the navy. I never expected to fight. Look at me and cry."
Vietnam charges ahead and doesn't seem to look back, except for the occasional encounter a la above. Tourism is in full swing, not for war memories only, but for the gorgeous nature, the culture, cheap living. Lots of Aussie backpackers.

author

2007-11-04T06:59:00.001-08:00

http://edenwaterspress.com

2007-10-31T21:51:00.000-07:00

Eden Waters Press blog:http://edenwaterspress.blogspot.com/: Eden Waters Press Home Anthology

"Teaching Metaphors" by Nathan Graziano

2007-10-31T21:34:00.000-07:00

Eden Waters Press blog: Reviewwww.sunnyoutside.com

Eden Waters Press blog: Freak Machine Chad Parenteau

2007-10-31T21:29:00.000-07:00

Eden Waters Press blog: Freak Machine Chad Parenteau

Eden Waters Press Home Anthology

2007-10-29T07:45:00.000-07:00

Hey-- it's almost out. I have everything together and am meeting with the printer. Did I tell you my computer crashed? That put a week's hold on things. Ouch. We are coming very soon. I'll post the date! Anne editor,schmeditor -- to borrow Jack Grapes' signature. He puts out a book called Onthebus. It's a unique and wonderful press, and accepts manuscripts. It takes a while. I was astonished to find a copy in my mailbox about a year after I had submitted. I perused it == and there was my poem, written under a pseudonym, Anna Birnes. It was a wonderful issue, a double issue focusing on Charles Bukowski, a personal friend of Jack Grapes. Check it out.

Sacred Fools

2007-10-29T07:37:00.000-07:00

I don't know these people personally, but they have just accepted two of my poems, and that shows that they're a quality group... (or that they and my poetry suck). I don't know when the issue will be out. It comes out in hard copy soon. Watch for it!I will be too -- curious and curioser.

Review

2007-10-08T10:10:00.000-07:00

Nate Grazino's slim book, published by sunnyoutside of Somerville, MA is simple on the surface. These poems are accessible, honest, and wide-ranging. It is divided into two parts: " The Student Body"and "The Faculty." It could be read in school or out of school by students and faculty, and every one would recognize him or herself in one or many of the poems. It brings us back, as if we were ghosts walking the hallways of our own highschool.. In Graziano's school on Monday morning--

Monday Morning with Lazarus

"...Hords of nikel-eyed students
drag heavy feet in a slow parade,
a procession of the condemned
moving toward the school's entrance
the open mouth of the sepulcher...."

In Wrestling Wallace Stevens

Mr. G, the teacher, wrestles with 'a Wallace Steven's poem. It is important to him; he's searching for metaphors. He wants to teach English. But --

"meanwhile my students read Kafka
and play the German version of patty-cake
following words left to right, with limp eyes./
more interested in American Idol
than a good existential crisis./
I've yet to pin The Emporer of the Ice Cream
and they're morphing into apathetic roaches."

He seems to have two levels of existence as a teacher. He writes in the preface to "The Student Body" about his experience of being a teacher. "In your more serious moods, you stand outside your classroom in your white shirt and tie and fail to see yourself. Other times, you can see your own face in through the stream, wearing that dizzy glaze that has always belonged to you."

The poems are written in both voices. They are spare, spare no punches, and mostly concentrate on the problems of public education, and the hopelessness of the students. and many of the faculty.

In IV. Agenda from #3: Student Apathy'
"What can we do better?"asks the teacher
"How do we reach out to the students
who are failing and dropping
the second they turn sixteen years old?"

...The burnout speakes from his seat.'
'There's nothing you can do about it.
These kids are making life decisions
and decisions come with consequences.
We supposed to be teaching them
to be adults who can live in an adult world.
In the adult world, there is failure.'/
The teacher wrings her sweaty hands dry
" No," she say, "but someone has to care.
They're kids for chrissakes. Someone has to care."
The book takes a hard look at the educational system. It pictures teachers who care, teachers who burn out, students sleeping in class, a student who says, "I hate this class." One especially moving poem is "D is for DIPLOMA" which ends
"The Teen Mother sighed a tears glazed
her own brown marble eyes like dew on a crystal ball,
pleading like she was freezing and I held fire."
The poems are written with compassion for the experience of each person, as if Graziano as a teacher has the ability to separate his ego from the students and faculty, to observe them, and observe their lives, without taking anything personally. It's my guess that this is the ability that allows Graziano to keep on teaching, and to glean poetry from moments that might depress or anger or pass by a less inspired teacher.
For example, in one poem a student starts dancing in the middle of study hall. "What the hell are you doing," Graziano asks.
"I''m dancing, Mr. G,' she says...../I watch her helpless from my desk, until the bass starts to beat in my head too."
Written in colloquial low-key language, "Teaching Metaphors makes no barriars between the adult and the young person we all once were. Government officials who make educational budgets should read this book.
Perceptive, approachable

Review of "Teaching Metaphor"by Nate Graziano

2007-10-08T10:03:00.000-07:00

Review