Tag: poem

An Early Surprise Christmas Present

~ Jim Flanigan ~ Leave a comment

Although I have not recently been writing this blog per yesterday’s post, I was still writing little bits and pieces here and there. I recently received notification that one of my poems is being published in a book. Here’s proof.

It really is no big deal. People put together these anthologies all the time. They need lots of authors to include so they will all buy the book upon publication. That’s at least one sale per author, but likely more. Yes, I bought a copy for my middle daughter for whom the poem’s about. I know, sucker, right?

But this is why it is sort of a big deal to me.

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My Recent Writing Roller Coaster

~ Jim Flanigan ~ 1 Comment

I’m working harder than ever to shed work responsibilities as I try to retire, so I can write more. Why? I’m not so sure anymore after getting emails like these.

Can we really trust a contest that calls the 2nd quarter of the year the 3rd quarter? Anyway, I was hopeful of seeing my name among the over 300 listed on the winner’s blog as finalists, honorable mentions, and suspected internet scammers. Nope, unless I forgot that I used my pen name of Seymour Butts.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, this happened.

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Organic Poetry

~ Jim Flanigan ~ Leave a comment

I don’t consider myself a good poet. Not at all. I even wrote a poem about how difficult it is for me to write a poem. But this one was different. It flowed organically onto my laptop. Sure, I pecked and poked at it after it was written, but the bones of it were easy and natural for me to write.

The prompt was to write about an experience that changed me or my life for the better. I wrote about adopting our middle daughter. Hers was the second of our three adoptions. Like I stated, the words just flowed onto my screen.

Click HERE to read my poem.

I was pleased when I received word that they chose my poem for publication in an anthology, but I am also pragmatic about it. They need a lot of stories or poems to fill an anthology. I think I am one of about sixty chosen for publication. The more they choose to publish, the more copies they are likely to sell. Yes, I’ll probably be a sucker and buy one for my daughter. Still, it’s nicer to get an invite to a party with the cool kids than not. I’m grateful. I wonder what I should bring. Oh, right, it’s a metaphorical party.

Anyway, my takeaway from this experience is not to force writing. If I do, the result may be a hot mess like my first attempt at a recent micro-fiction prompt. My writing needs to flow like urine from a baby without a diaper on rather than a sad dribble from an old man at a urinal – not to be confused with this sad drivel I used to conclude this post.

The Return of Jim’s Poetry Corner

~ Jim Flanigan

I told you about the humorous poetry contest I was entering. I hope you sent in something, anything. Maybe just some random words that you scribbled down on a napkin to avoid talking to your dinner partner while waiting for your order of Tom Yum Goong to be served at that Thai restaurant on the other side of town. Hey, the contest was free. You had nothing to lose.

And now the contest deadline has passed, so I may as well share foist upon you my entry. I didn’t know what to write about or how to write it. My OCD leanings tend to make me want to rhyme. But I know “modern poetry” is a free-for-all. Rhyming is passé. So, I wrote a poem about that, even dragging revered poet E.E. Cummings into my hodgepodge of words meant to pass for a poem.

I reluctantly present to you “The Challenge of Writing Poetry After Parochial School.” You can press the + sign below to make the print larger if you really want to read it.

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Merry Christmas

~ Jim Flanigan

Here’s a holiday message from our pups.

If that’s not enough for you, here are some links to Christmas memories like the time the Baby Jesus gave me a black eye for Christmas.

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Rejection is Opportunity for Rejection Elsewhere

~ Jim Flanigan ~ 3 Comments

The one thing I have learned in my short career as a semi-professional writer is that rejection is inevitable. I get a weird feeling before submitting a story anywhere. I know the story will be judged which will make me feel like I am personally being judged, because the story is an extension of me and my alleged mind. It’s a very uncomfortable feeling. I have to force myself to click and submit the story. Then I’m okay, and I wait for the inevitable rejection. Thankfully, I have received an occasional acceptance.

After winning a small award for my first serious crime story in the first half of 2023, I struck out several times in the second half of the year with various short story submittals. Even a local writer’s group was not interested in hearing me recite some of the stories I submitted. I got busy with a new job that I took as a bridge to retirement and my writing has languished, although it has been the right decision financially.

It’s time to relaunch my writing career in 2024. I am ready for more rejection. I came across this humorous poetry contest with a $0 entry fee. That fits my budget perfectly. Now I am certainly not a poet, and I know it. Hmm, on second thought …

Sure, I have written poems in the past. Here’s a link to a winter poem I wrote years ago bemoaning the shortest day of the year on the Winter Solstice through which we just suffered yesterday.

I took advantage of my fear of lack of daylight by staying in yesterday and writing a humorous poem to submit. It is about my OCD (Obsessive Compulsive Disorder) keeping me from writing a poem about my OCD keeping me from writing a poem about my OCD, etc. I like it. It was cathartic. It is also one of the weirdest things I have ever written, and I have written some pretty odd stuff in the past. It features nuns. Need I say more? Is it funny enough to be award-winning? Hmm, I guess the decision to reject my poem will be up to the suspected heartless and unbearably cruel judges after I force myself to submit it. And I will submit it. I urge you to write and submit, too. Misery loves company.

A 2022 Christmas Poem

~ Jim Flanigan ~ 1 Comment

Here we are, halfway through my Twelve Days of Blogging, which would make it Day, uh … hmm, I wasn’t aware there would be math. Maybe the pic below will help.

Right, Day 6. I knew it all the time. Just testing you. Anyway, we are halfway through this holiday trainwreck, and today I have some poetry for you. I have provided winter poems in the past, but never a winter holiday poem like I have for you today. I do have to warn you before you click through that the poem is rated for more mature audiences as it concerns drug use … sort of.

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I Get Her Point

~ Jim Flanigan ~ 1 Comment

Do you remember when I wrote 3 short complementary pieces for an art exhibition? There was a free verse poem, a sad mini story, and a funny mini story about peaches. Oh, what’s that you say? You were trying to forget? Well, not so fast as I have another peach story with which to regale you. But don’t worry. It’s not from me but from a sixth grader.

Last night, artists and authors gathered at an area public library to reflect on the art exhibited and read some of the writings. It’s one thing to see a small digital version of the painting on my screen. It’s a completely different experience to see these large oil paintings up close. I should probably visit the Art Institute in Chicago more often.

I am happy to report that my peaches story got some chuckles. However, my sad story did not elicit any tears, and my free verse poem didn’t coax one finger snap from the audience.

Wait, was I supposed to lead the finger snapping while at the mic? Seems presumptuous of me to snap at my own creation.

Anyway, enough about me. You are here to read a sixth grader’s story about peaches that is written better than this blog most days, although admittedly that is a low bar. I should warn you that this youth’s peaches story is a bit disturbing, so exercise caution (and maybe do a few sit-ups while you’re at it) before clicking through.

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A Cramp-proof Writer

~ Jim Flanigan ~ 1 Comment

I have this problem. If I get an idea in my head, I eventually have to write about it. Sure, sometimes it’s as easy as throwing the idea into one of these stupid blog posts. But sometimes an idea as ridiculous as a parasitic twin running in the 2020 Republican Presidential Primary becomes a book available on Amazon for FREE through the 30th of October by clicking here.

I recently submitted a serious free verse poem and a hilarious mini story to support a local art exhibit organized by the publisher who published my first short story. However, another one of the paintings caught my eye and imagination. It was this one.

Nobody had chosen this painting to write about. I had an idea, but it was risky for me. I’ll explain why.

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Jim’s Poetry Corner Visits Skokie, Illinois

~ Jim Flanigan ~ 3 Comments

For any aspiring writers reading this, I can’t emphasize enough that you need to practice writing constantly. Stop reading my nonsense and start writing some of your own. Each one of these blog posts is writing practice for me. But sometimes I get my writing solicited by others rather than just inflicting it upon you readers. One such recent request came from scenic Skokie, Illinois for an exhibit at their public library.

The challenge was to choose a painting which will be displayed in the library and write a short story or poem about it. I chose this picture.

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Defeeted

~ Jim Flanigan

I have successfully recovered from my bout with cellulitis. Not that any of you care. I can count on one hand the cards, letters, boxes of candy, flowers, cash, gift cards, etc. that I received, and I don’t have to use any fingers or even my hand. Fortunately, as I recovered from the cellulitis, I developed a case of plantar fasciitis so that I can still have something to complain about.

If you are not familiar with plantar fasciitis, it’s quite painful. But sometimes, from pain comes amazing art. However, in this case, I wrote a poem. More accurately, it is free verse, because I was too lazy to rhyme. Before you click to continue reading my new creation, I should warn you that the two people I have read this to have been at a loss for words upon hearing it, and not necessarily in a good way.

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Jim’s Poetry Corner

~ Jim Flanigan

I was going to warn you that you may not find this blog post humorous, but I am sure that regular readers are used to that by now. I had planned to enter a poetry contest, but decided against it. Great story, right? The contest was sponsored by Rattle.com, and while I didn’t enter their contest, I did submit my poem to them for publication consideration. Pretty smart, huh? I can still be rejected while saving money in the process.

So that you, the reader, can feel like you’re part of the rejection process, I will share with you my poem below. It’s titled “I Did Not Win The Masters.” Now you can read it and pass judgement on it, too.

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A Poetic Seasonal Rerun About Winter

~ Jim Flanigan

On the third day of my Twelve Days of Blogging, I’m going to offer you a rerun with new content. I hadn’t planned on dredging up this poem from 2017 filled with my winter ire. And I’m not talking about winter irie, which is a good thing.

Yah, mon. I wish everyone an Irie Xmas in Jamaica.

The reason I resurrected the poem is that I’m spitting-venom mad at winter. As someone who suffers from seasonal depression due to lack of light, I always happily celebrate the Winter Solstice. The days are getting longer now. Except this solstice pissed me off. I expected to wake up this morning to an early dawn. Nope, Still dark and cloudy.

And speaking of cloudy, I missed seeing the Jupiter-Saturn celestial convergence. If we had a clear night sky, I am sure I would have been one of many gathered on the local sled hill gazing at the heavens to see this once-in-a-lifetime astronomical event. Nope. Nothing but clouds. And I had this joke all ready to spring on my neighbors …

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Rubled

~ Jim Flanigan

I was in a rhyming, but bad mood about Trump knowing about Russian bounties on American soldiers’ heads as I walked this morning. The only thing that kept me from screaming was that I was also picking berries as I walked. Anyway, here it is …

Trump Poem

The poem is a pic, so feel free to save and share.

A Winter Poem

~ Jim Flanigan ~ 3 Comments

This is the worst day of the year for me. It is because of how short the amount of daylight is today. I know, tomorrow on the Winter Solstice is actually shorter when it comes to daylight, but that is a day when I can celebrate that henceforth the days will start to lengthen until that damn Summer Solstice. So today I weep, gnash my teeth, rend my garments asunder (really a bad idea when it is cold out), and am generally a sullen mess. The bottom line is that nobody can tell the difference in me from a typical day. However, it has been sunny today, so that has helped my mood. Before the sun got off its lazy ass and rose this morning, I was already out briskly walking while I wrote this poem about the dearth of daylight today.

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Poem for the Fallen

~ Jim Flanigan

Poem for the Fallen

Trumpatized – A Rap Poem

~ Jim Flanigan ~ 1 Comment

Trumpatized