Today it is our pleasure to spotlight P.S.C. in CT from R.L.B.’s P.A.D .

Seriously.

Or Pamela Smyk Cleary , if you prefer.

Per Pamela: “When I was a kid, “Pamela Marie” is the name my mother used when I was in trouble. (Yup – Marie really is my middle name!). When she wanted to call me inside after a day of playing in the neighborhood, it was just “Pamela,” although … when she was yelling it out the back door, it always sounded more like “PAAAAAA-MA-LAAAAAAA!” I used to hate that name. But as I’ve gotten older, it’s kind of grown on me (…yeah… like a mold). PSC is easier to type with minimal errors.”

“PSC” is fun and endearing to me, but I must admit that it isn’t a name. So then – “Pamela” it is. Pamela is such a pretty name, after all.

The fun side of her poetic heart made its way into this description of herself (from her “About” on Facebook).

Pamela Smyk Cleary

Dreamer, daughter, woman, wife, (paused, at present, in midlife)
middle child, sister, friend (hopefully, nowhere near the end!)

Walker, ambler, stroller, hiker (keeps pace with a snail),
listener, reader, writer, biker (mostly on the rail trail);
greeting card and letter writer (yep, you guessed it: snail mail).

Dabbler in photography, nature, plants and flowers;
(has been known to sit, sometimes, and watch the birds for hours).
Low energy, low volume, low maintenance, easy care;
(sweatshirt, jeans & sneakers, hair that’s strictly wash & wear).

intermittent poet, sporadic – if you choose –
(frequently requiring a swift kick in the muse).
~~~

The first poem Pamela chose to share with us is Pink Lady Slipper Orchid . I’m glad she chose it, as it is representative of the style I’ve come to know as hers.

Pink Lady Slipper Orchid

She doesn’t like to be disturbed
So much relies on patience, persistence,
the perfect conditions

Seemingly rare, she’s
more common than you think
native and wild, hiding
in plain sight in the weak light
on the forest floor

Particular, but enduring
she knows what she lacks,
pursuing it with patience and diligence

Soaking up the timid rays
penetrating the canopy to where
she resides, she may wait years
for what she needs to flower

Offering no reward to pollinating bees,
she takes what they proffer, then
packs her bags lightly, setting her progeny
free in the breeze, hoping some
friendly fungus will fulfill their needs

Beautiful and lush, but also touchy and rash,
you should handle her with gloves
if you handle her at all.

* * *

PAMELA : I chose this poem, because I feel it does a good job of combining a couple of my favorite themes: nature and personal relationships. This “lady” is a combination of several people I know – both real and imaginary – yet she is also an actual flower, whose characteristics are accurately described in the poem.

MARIE ELENA : I enjoy your explanation nearly as much as the poem itself. Would you say this combination of nature and personal relationships is a source of inspiration for much of your poetry?

PAMELA : I am inspired by nature, news events, dreams, music, movies, people (friends, family, fictional), literature, conversations, song lyrics, pictures, other poems…. (I could go on and on, but you get the drift!) The results tend to be an odd mix of “fact” and “fiction, bringing to mind one of my favorite Jimmy Buffett songs. Many of my poems, I think, could be summed up by these lyrics “clipped” from “Semi-True Story” by Jimmy Buffett:

“It’s a semi-true story, believe it or not.
I made up a few things, and there’s some I forgot.
But the life and the tellin’ are both real to me,
and they all run together and turn out to be
a semi-true story.”

MARIE ELENA : I’m sure folks are curious as to the photo above. This amusing gal also graces your Facebook page as your profile picture. She makes me smile every time I see her.

PAMELA : Tee hee! She’s a beauty, isn’t she? (Did I say I hate having my picture taken?) Anyway, the puppet was my attempt to have an online presence, without being … present. Or without being photographed, at any rate. And, in fact, I guess you could say SHE is actually a HE… in drag.

MARIE ELENA: Do tell!

PAMELA : My husband, Timothy, retired in 2009 after 35 years as a high school math teacher. Two of his best friends retired at the same time. All three of them had worked together at the same high school – in the same department – for many years, so a single retirement party was planned for the three of them. As part of the party “entertainment,” a skit was created & performed for them, using puppets that had been designed and dressed to look like each of them. Timothy’s puppet was dressed in suspenders – which he wore all the time — and sporting a beard & mustache.

The first Christmas after Tim retired, I used his puppet to create our Christmas card — posing & photographing him with Tim’s favorite things (pretzels & Pepsi, a golf club, a novel, the TV remote) to show our family & friends how he was spending his retirement. It was quite a giggle, and we got lots of comments on our Christmas card that year!

So, later, when I needed to come up with an image that I could use to represent “PSC, the poet” online, I zeroed in on the “Timothy puppet” as a starting point, and began playing “dress up” to make him more feminine. I covered the suspenders with a scarf and lace collar, overlaid the gray hair with a flowery hat and camouflaged the beard & mustache behind a pair of lips I created out of red felt. (The first version of my profile pic had very large lips. Later, as I acquired some [minor] photo editing skills, I was able to perform a bit of “digital surgery” to correct that).  And lastly, I added a feather – a poetic writing quill, if you will – to complete the transformation … and “she” has been my profile pic, ever since.

MARIE ELENA : I knew there had to be a fun story behind her, but who would have thought your little “PSC” stand in was a drag queen! Too funny!

Your home is in Connecticut. It is so beautiful there! Is that where you grew up?

PAMELA : After that last answer, I feel like I should be more succinct, so: Yup! Next question?

Just kidding! Yes, I was born & raised in CT – and yes, it IS beautiful, in my opinion. I met & married Timothy here, and have lived here all my life (so far). I am truly a homebody at heart. But, I also have a strong connection with Cape Cod, MA – thinking of it as my “second home.” We’ve spent a lot of time there over the years, vacationing with close friends & family, and it always welcomes me back with open arms — no matter how much time has passed since my last visit.

Also, while CT is home right now (and has been for a long time) I do think there are a lot of other places that I could call home and live just as happily. I would need to be able to connect with nature on a frequent basis, though, wherever I live. It keeps me grounded (no pun intended) … or as grounded as it’s possible for me to be, anyway. And, I also have a preference for a four season climate (though, that might be negotiable – especially if Timothy has anything to say about it). My dream is to live beside a quiet lake – where I can just drop my kayak in the water — and where there are also hiking & biking trails nearby.

As a child, the neighborhood I grew up in was a small dead end street with a lot of kids. It was a bit like a large, extended family. You knew everybody, and they knew you. We spent a lot of time romping outdoors, and there was always someone around to play with. Everyone’s yard was your playground, and the street was also an available site for kickball, hit the bat, hopscotch, snake, jacks, tag – you name it. (There’s not a lot of traffic on a dead end street). Every summer evening we played Hide & Seek in “the circle” until the street light came on – or until my mother yelled “PAAAAAA-MA-LAAAAAAA” – whichever came first.

MARIE ELENA : Your childhood neighborhood sounds very much like my own, Pamela. Thanks for the warm memories!

Let’s talk about your passion for writing. When did you begin writing, and what prompted you to do so?

PAMELA : Hmmm … not sure exactly when I started or why, but it was a long (long) time ago. I do remember as far back as grade school I was writing poems & stories and making my own “greeting cards.” (I still enjoy doing that, too). I had some poetry “published” in high school newspapers & such. Wrote a lot of poetry, and took a creative writing class or two, in college. (Had a professor who intimidated the rhyme out of me. Over twenty years later, and I still feel awkward writing serious rhyming poetry – I’m only comfortable writing humorous rhymes). After graduating, I got a “real” job and fell into years of mostly “poetic disuse,” revisiting my muse only intermittently – on an “as needed” basis. I’ve just gotten back into writing the last four years or so, and my muse tends to be somewhat stubborn and recalcitrant (payback for my former neglect, I suspect), so writing remains a bit of a sporadic effort on my part.

MARIE ELENA : Was Robert’s site the first on which you had ever posted publicly?

PAMELA : Not the first, but … maybe the second? I know I was posting in the Writers’ Digest poetry forum before Poetic Asides. That’s where I first saw references made to Robert’s prompts on PA, but it took me a while to figure out what they were talking about, and longer still to find my way over there to participate. November 2008 was my first PAD, and while I’ve started every one since then, I fell out of two of them due to computer problems. I do most of my writing & editing on my pc, and it was just too hard to do that at the library when my computer died. Technology is a beautiful thing, when it works… and a real pain in the butt, when it doesn’t! And then, too, there was a stretch of time after one of the PADs, when I was so exhausted and drained, I don’t think I returned to PA until the next PAD – six months later! (Did I say my muse can be moody?)

MARIE ELENA : You just began blogging relatively recently ( “ Wander Ponder Poems & Pix ”).   I love the title, and how you creatively incorporate your passions.  What made you decide to begin a blog?

PAMELA : Wow! Thank you, Marie! So glad you like it! Took me a long time to get my act together and start blogging, but I’m always thrilled when someone actually enjoys something I put out there! I only just got it “kicked off” on March 6th of this year. (Was aiming to march forth on March fourth, but, was late… as usual).

I started blogging for a couple of reasons. Firstly, because I was hoping that by having a place to share my stuff (other than my facebook wall), and a “definitive deadline” (more like a line in the sand, really), I might be able to prompt my lazy muse to be a bit more productive. (Yeah, sure… a girl can dream, right?)

Another reason I started the blog is a bit of a story in itself: Last year, I was talked into performing a couple of my poems before a live audience. Some friends of ours (David & Douglas Bibbey) were starting up a TV production company. As a part of that effort, they organized “First Thursdays” – a variety show of live performances (all original material – music, stories and poetry). It was a new & exciting concept! The music talent was easy to come by: musicians are mostly performers, after all. But finding story tellers and poets who were crazy enough – I mean willing – to recite their work in public was a slightly tougher task. (My husband, of course, was crazy enough, so he jumped at the chance, and I… got dragged along, kicking and screaming.) When I expressed my discomfort over reading my poems aloud — saying I’d rather just WRITE poetry — David’s response was that poems shouldn’t just “sleep in a book.” They were meant to be read aloud (he said), shared and performed (he insisted), so … I got suckered in – I mean, convinced – to read a couple of my poems.

Well, needless to say, I survived the trauma (although, I’m still not fond of getting up in front of an audience!) And David did convince me that poetry really is meant to be shared (mostly), and shortly after my “performance experience,” I penned a poem for him, called “Poems Should Not Sleep,” which I posted on my blog. (Rolande Duprey — another multi-talented friend of mine — liked it so much that she turned it into a video. I’m including the poem here in the hope that you will enjoy it too — and also because it told me it wants to be shared!)

POEMS SHOULD NOT SLEEP (for David Bibbey)

Poems should not sleep in a book, nor slumber under a rock. They are meant to be
set free, read aloud, sung, shouted, performed on a stage, danced about – as a waltz
or tango or even the Can Can – except, of course, for those that you can’t… can’t….

Not every poem is an exhibitionist; not all are meant to be circus performers,
dogs and ponies, amusements for the masses. Some are more private and personal;
intended to be taken in small drams – like medicine, poison, or some fine wine:
inhaled, sipped, held on the tongue, swished about, perhaps, then … spit out.

Some poems should be kept in a jar on your nightstand, taken out each evening
to be touched and fondled, smoothed like velvet under your rough hands, then,
stripped naked and taken to bed, alone … or not alone.

Some are intended to be closely examined, under a microscope, maybe – or tacked
and pinned to a butterfly board, dissected, eviscerated, boiled down and distilled, or
taken apart, then re-assembled, like a jigsaw puzzle, while others are only ever meant
to be observed from a distance – via satellite or telescopic lens.

There are those you will want to avoid entirely. Go ahead. It’s okay to pass these on to a friend –
or perhaps an enemy. Not every poem is meant for you. But, some … there are bound to be some,
you must pluck, press and preserve forever between the pages of your scrapbook memory.

~~~

MARIE ELENA : … and THAT, PSC, is a “preserve forever” poem, and seems it was great fun to write. Thank you for sharing it! And speaking of sharing it, for those who agree with David Bibbey, here is Rolande Duprey’s youtube clip: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=P6MXk3vqLxg .

Do you simply enjoy writing and freely sharing, or is it your goal to be a published writer?

PAMELA : Mostly, (right now at least), I think I’m just trying to enjoy the experiences of writing and sharing with friends, family & fellow writers. I have submitted a few pieces over the past four years — had several published, and another handful slated to be published over the next few months, too. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t thrilled over that, but I’m just not sure it’s really a “goal” of mine at this point. Honestly, a more logical goal for me would be to focus on just writing more poetry. After all, that’s really why I created my blog in the first place – to provide motivation – to prompt myself to write. Quite frankly, just keeping up with posting something on my blog several times a week – and increasing the quantity and quality of my work — is enough of a challenge for me, for right now. But, it’s possible that being published will become a goal of mine… sometime down the road … maybe …

MARIE ELENA : “Increasing the quantity and quality of my work” is a worthy goal for every poet, and an inspiration to me. Thank you! And congratulations on your acceptances!  So, do you consider yourself a “poet?”

PAMELA : I do.

MARIE ELENA : Wow. I must say that I love that quick and definite response!

PAMELA : Although, how good of a poet is an issue my muse & I have debated on numerous occasions!  Back when I was posting in the Writers’ Digest forum, there was some “discussion” over a piece that someone else had written – a disagreement as to whether or not it qualified as “a poem.” My stance was (and still is) this: If the writer claims it’s a poem, then it’s a poem. If the writer says he/she is a poet, then he/she is a poet. (Again, how good a poet or poem may be – that’s a debatable issue!)

Poetry, like all creative endeavors, I suppose, (music, art, dance…), is very subjective. Whether a particular poem and/or poet “speaks” to you is largely a matter of opinion, and opinions can change from day to day, or hour to hour. What affects one person deeply may not touch another individual at all, or vice versa. You may “feel” a certain poem immediately, another poem might require multiple reads before you connect with it, still others may never touch you at all. But I like to think that for every written piece, there exists someone somewhere who was meant to read it – wants to, needs to, read it – as much as the writer needed to write it.

Yes, I consider myself a poet. And, here’s a poem (because I say it is!):

JOHNNY APPLESEED (Originally published on Everyday Poets – June 11, 2009)

Slice open a vein.
Let the words flow out
unchecked, uncensored.
Bleed until you run dry, then

gather the gems
like precious seeds, and
toss them into the wind

never knowing
where they may
take root
and grow.

~~~

MARIE ELENA : Wow. If I had to take a guess, I would say De Jackson had written that poem, Pamela. As you know, I consider that the utmost compliment.

As mentioned previously, your blog incorporates your beautiful photographs. You consider yourself a poet — do you consider yourself a photographer?

PAMELA : Oh my, no! Nope. Don’t consider myself a photographer.

MARIE ELENA : Another quick, definitive response. You tickle me, Pamela! Why do you not consider yourself a photographer?

PAMELA : I just dabble (and every once in a while a photo will come out just as I intended – or even better!), but it’s usually more a matter of luck than anything else. I am not in the same league as the likes of Jane Penland Hoover, or your husband Keith! They are artists, and they have the equipment and skills – and the photographs — to prove it, while I am more like a … kindergartener finger-painting!

Sometimes my camera and I play nicely together; at other times we argue. (Well, I argue.) “Why can’t you see what I see?” I often say. (It hasn’t answered back yet, but you never know.) Really, I’ve only been taking photos with my cheap digital camera (don’t tell him I called him that!) for about two years, so maybe in time, I’ll come to think of myself as a photographer. Perhaps when I’ve been fighting with my camera for as long as I’ve been battling my muse.

MARIE ELENA: Keith was pleasantly surprised, yet embarrassed by your compliment, Pamela. He does not see himself as a  “photographer” any more than you do, but thanks you for the encouragement. In all the online interactions I see, encouraging others seems to come naturally to you.

PAMELA : Encouraging others? Me? Wow! That’s really quite a compliment coming from you, Marie! I think you are THE most encouraging, supportive person I know! Honestly! You have a gift for seeing the best in everyone! I hope I encourage others! But, truthfully, I don’t think I do it nearly often enough. I feel as if I am always running behind and arriving “late to the party.” It just seems like there are never enough hours in the day to do everything I want to do, and everything takes longer than I think it will. I’m often claiming I’ll return to read and comment – and rarely getting back to do so. (Everyone who is still reading at this point: Please accept my apologies for every time I’ve done that – and every time I’m bound to do it again in the future!)

As for whether or not offering encouragement comes naturally to me, I couldn’t say. While I’d like to think it does, I’m not sure that’s true – or not always true, at any rate. There are times when I have to work at it. But I DO believe in the power of encouragement and positive reinforcement, so it is definitely a skill worth honing, in my opinion.

I read a book, some years ago: “If You Want To Write” by Brenda Ueland, in which she claims that “Everybody is talented, original and has something important to say.” I believe that’s true, but I also think that, sometimes, it takes a lot of encouragement and patience (and what she calls “noodling”) to bring that talent out into the light. Over the last few years I’ve seen some amazing talent develop at Poetic Asides and Poetic Bloomings, and I think that it’s largely due to the encouraging people and supportive environments at both sites. Kudos to you and Walt – and to Robert – for promoting and maintaining that kind of atmosphere on an ongoing basis!

MARIE ELENA : Thank you, Pamela. And see? Encouragement.

It seems most of your poetry is up-beat. Does this indicate that you are basically an optimist at heart?

PAMELA :  Really? Most of my poetry is upbeat? I don’t know if that’s true or not. I DO know that I prefer writing – and reading – from a “happy place” – so I’ll consider that a compliment. I also know that both the poet and the reader bring something of themselves into the reading of a poem. Ralph Waldo Emerson said “Though we travel the world over to find the beautiful, we must carry it with us or we find it not.” I think the same may be said for other qualities as well, such as happiness, and… upbeat. And Marie, you are such an upbeat person! Maybe that’s why you see much of my poetry that way too!

As for my being an optimist at heart… I think I can hear my sisters laughing hysterically over that one! I’d LIKE to be an optimist. I TRY to be an optimist. But, I am also very much of a “worry wart.” All three of us sisters are. We come by it naturally, having acquired the gene from our mother. I worry fluently, and am frequently expecting the worst to occur, and yet … I DO have a tendency to look at the bright side of things, and try to find the positive in everything too, so maybe I’m an optimistic pessimist… or a pessimistic optimist… or perhaps, a pessimoptimist… or an optipest!

MARIE ELENA : “I worry fluently.” You and I are cut from the same cloth, my friend. But I’ve never thought to word it that way. That, and “optipest” are two I’ll be borrowing!  And, by the way, see?  Encourgement again.

I know you’ve been married a good long time to Timothy. What would you say is the secret to your longevity?

PAMELA : Wow! There’s a question for the sages! I’ve pondered this one a dozen times and I still don’t have a good answer. I mean, I could go on about how we are each other’s best friend (we are), and how important certain qualities are (like love, honesty, mutual respect…), but many marriages that end in failure could probably boast all of those things, as well. And, besides, in spite of all that, we still disagree about a lot of things. We probably disagree more often than we agree. About the best answer I can come up with is that… maybe… our “secret” is that we are pretty much “in sync” on what the really important things are, and we mostly agree on those things, and the rest… well, we don’t place too much importance on the rest. So, I guess then, that maybe you could say that the “secret” to our longevity might just be… hmmm… luck?

Oh! And a good sense of humor doesn’t hurt either! A natural born comic – that’s my husband!

MARIE ELENA : What is the best period of time in your life, and what made (makes) it best?

PAMELA : Well, I have some pretty fond memories of my early childhood – up to about nine years old, but I think I’d have to say that the BEST time in my life (so far) is right now.

A while back I was working in a stressful job as an IT manager. I carried a beeper, ate lunch at my desk, had no time to exercise. In the winter months, I only saw the sun on the weekends, and I remember actually thinking (more than once), “this job is killing me – literally.” Then, our division was sold off. The buyers purchased the business, but decided they didn’t need the people, and our entire department was told that once the transition phase was completed, we would all be out of jobs. At the time, I was stunned, but, as it turns out, it was the best thing that could have happened to me!

Now, I have less money, but more free time. I’m eating better and exercising more. I’ve taken up yoga, I bike, hike and take photographs while I’m wandering the local trails. I’m writing more poetry than I have in years! Timothy & I have time to read or sit on the back deck and watch the birds & wildlife, and I’m enjoying myself in ways I never would have dreamed of ten years ago! I kayak – I even bought a pair of snow shoes this past December! (Folks in New England can thank me, because my new snow shoes are probably the reason we didn’t get much snow at all last winter)!
When things aren’t going quite the way I want them to, I only have to remind myself, it wasn’t so long ago that I was spending my days attending meetings or stuck in a tiny little cubicle, tied to a desk. Now, I am enjoying all those daylight hours that I used to miss!

MARIE ELENA : How wonderful to be able to think of this present moment as being the most wonderful time in your life!  Now, what is the hardest issue you have ever dealt with, and what measures did you take to get through it?

PAMELA : Wow! From the highs to the lows in one fell swoop! I’d have to say that there are actually two situations that qualify as the “hardest issues” in my life: the illnesses & deaths of my parents. Both suffered a long, painful period of decline that was hard on them and on the rest of the family, as well. My father died of cancer when I was in college. He was always the strong, silent type, and never a very big guy, but by the time he passed away, he weighed about 85 pounds. I don’t know how she did it, but Mom managed to work full time and hold it all together for my father and the rest of the family.

Over twenty years later, Mom suffered a series of strokes that left her wheelchair bound and unable to communicate in any way. This was particularly difficult, as she was always the strong, independent, “woman in charge” in our household (Dad used to call her “the War Department”), and to see her so completely helpless, and be able to do nothing to help was frustrating and painful for all of us.

In both instances, I wrote a lot of poetry, listened to a lot of music, and relied heavily on family and friends for emotional support.

MARIE ELENA : Your parents sound wonderful. “The War Department” is just so cute. Poetry, music, family, and friends … such healthy crutches on which to lean in times of need. Thank you for being such an inspiration, Pamela.

And now, if there was only one thing we could know about you, what would you choose to tell us?

PAMELA : Ouch! Another tough question. How about … I hate housework and cooking!? (Sorry! that just slipped out.) Honestly, I’m trying to focus less on the negatives (operative word: “trying”!) and more on the positives in my life – to criticize less, and encourage more (myself AND others) — because I believe that positive produces positive, love begets love — and the whole world benefits.

One of my favorite quotes is: “We can do no great things, only small things with great love.” –Mother Teresa

Although I generally consider myself an agnostic, still I believe that there is more to life (the world, the universe…) than meets the eye; more than we are able to perceive through our own limited senses and/or technologies. Serendipity, synchronicity, quantum entanglements are all just a tip of the iceberg – indicating that we (people, plants, animals…) are all connected in amazing and wonderful ways – all part & parcel of a bigger whole. A (not so) old (very) dear friend of mine likes to tell me, “That’s God,” but I believe E.E. Cummings had it right when he said: “love is the every only god.”

MARIE ELENA: Thank you so much for letting me pry, “PSC.” Getting to know and showcase our Poetic Bloomings poets is a definite perk to this position, and one that puts a smile on my face every single  time.  This has been great fun!

Poetic Bloomings is a mosaic of diverse personalities, backgrounds, and talents. Heck, today’s featured poet is a mosaic of diverse personalities, backgrounds, and talents –  all by himself!

Iain Douglas Kemp (that’s Iain with two eyes ) has been with Poetic Bloomings since “Day 1.”  Walt and I have admired his work since meeting up with him at Robert Lee Brewer’s Poetic Asides 2009 PAD Challenge.

I remembered Iain’s poem “Sweet Hot Milk” from that challenge, and sought it out.  It’s as engaging, endearing, and emotive as I remember.

Sweet Hot Milk (by Iain Douglas Kemp)

We met as strangers often do
A night train rushing through Germany
Holland, on to the ferry port in Belgium
She was young and scared
Being harassed by deported football hooligans
I was young and full of mustard
(when it came to maidens in distress)
But my diminutive physique
Let alone the odds against me
Spoke more about my naivety
Than my courage
But stand up to them I did
And called the conductor
They were put off at the next station
Uschi and I soon became fast friends
After all I was her knight in shining Levis
Hours later we were to part at Victoria station
After a romantic breakfast, she went to meet her friends
I caught the train home
We wrote for a few months
But lost touch…
… she went to work with Mother Theresa
I went on with my life
I have often wondered where my ship in the night went to…
But the memory I keep and treasure
Occurred on the ferry across the channel
We’d found somewhere to sit
She said she’d go and buy us coffee
As she walked away I thought to tell her how I take it
I yelled across the crowded deck “No milk and two sugars!”
Of course when she returned her Germanic mind had inserted a comma
Into what should have been straight forward
So we laughed and I drank the hot sweet milk
Because it would have been rude not to and after all
In just a few hours we’d fallen in love
Like strangers in the night sometimes do.

MARIE ELENA :   Iain, I have to assume this was born of a true story.

IAIN : Well Marie Elena, to begin with I was quite surprised that you chose this poem. I don’t usually regard my “story telling poems” very highly as I think they are too much of a narrative … anyway I’m pleased you like it. Yes, it is based on a true story and the poem tells most of it. I had been working in Germany as a waiter in Rüdesheim am Rhein for six months as part of my college studies (more of that later). I’d had a terrific summer and had made some money, and was on the long train journey home to Blighty. I was in an old fashioned train with compartments and there was myself, a young German girl, Fraulein Ursula Klug (Uschi), and an unpleasant mob of football hooligans (English!) who had been deported from Norway after fighting at or near a football match. Somehow their route back to England had lead to them boarding my train and sharing my carriage.

They were drunk and became sexually abusive to Uschi, to whom up till then I hadn’t spoken (I was a very shy young man of 20). I really couldn’t sit back and let them get away with it, so I actually stood up to them. I was very skinny and a coward due to years of bullying at school, but it just seemed the right moment to find a backbone! I don’t remember every detail, but as I spoke German I called the conductor who ushered them away.  The train made an unscheduled stop, and they were handed over to the Polizei.

What followed is one of those “Brief Encounter” type stories. Uschi and I talked all through the night till we boarded the ferry to England, and we obviously formed a very close bond. The incident with the coffee, or should I say milk, was a typical misunderstanding and we laughed about it and I drank my milk! We parted at Victoria station in London after breakfast, and I remember the only kiss I gave her was that one of goodbye. We corresponded for a while but lost touch. I do sometimes wonder what became of her, and how her work as a nurse with Mother Theresa went – most of all it’s just one those lovely memories that stays with a person forever.

MARIE ELENA :  *sigh* Such a gentleman, and how perfectly romantic.  She worked with Mother Theresa? Personally, I think you should write a novel.

Walt and I have met two friends of yours, and feel like we know them personally. While he’s not here, let’s talk about Ringo the Howler.  Just remember, our site is for every age group, so there may very well be young’ns reading. *winkwink*

IAIN : Ah! My good friend and fellow Yankees fan, Mr. Ringo the Howler. First let me say that I have no idea why people like him. I certainly don’t consider it poetry when I write his snippy little notes, but somehow from humble beginnings, “Dear Moosehead” has taken on a life of its own. His first appearance was in 2008 in Robert’s first PA PAD – the prompt was to write an insult poem (I notice he doesn’t use that one anymore, hmmm…).

Anyway, I have always loved Bob Dylan’s early book “Tarantula,” which is full of prose poetry and crazy little letters from strange characters. So … I stole him from Dylan, well, not him, the character and name were mine, but the style. The name just seemed right for an insulting moaner. The first one got response from far better poets than me, so I did a couple more. The following PAD I did one a day, which is never easy. By then I had to flesh out the characters and create a backdrop so that there was more to say. I realised this April that if you don’t know the whole story they are hard to get into, but I carry on regardless. I am amazed that people (especially the company in which we write) like him so much, but I enjoy doing them – so it’s all to the good.

MARIE ELENA :  The other friend is good ‘ole Bartholomew Foggerty.  How are things going with him?  Is there a book in the works, complete with quirky illustrations?  Please share a favorite Foggerty poem, and tell us about this funky little weasel.

IAIN : Well now the first weasel poem was not as they appear now. It was in response to a prompt by Robert Lee Brewer to write a Skeltonic poem, and the second in response to the prompt “Hobby,” the rhyming couplets came later when I decided I liked the character. I have over 50 of his poems and a book would be nice. My friend Natalie who is a wonderful wildlife artist and lives and teaches primary in Australia, is working on illustrations and I don’t like to push her, but “Nat! Get on with it!” Haha! One day I’m sure we’ll see him in print. This April I was drawn to return to him when a fellow member of my writing group “The Baker’s Dozen,” Connie Peters, asked me where he was hiding. Lo and behold, Robert produced an animal prompt. I had to scour the archives to see where I’d left him as his story is a long and winding road, but eventually I found him in France and so wrote a new chapter for him. The hard part is coming up with new and unusual rhymes, and they are very hard to record because I always crack up. Strangely, whilst they are always popular amongst poets, they don’t always go down well at readings, which is disappointing. Still, you asked me for a favourite so here’s one of many, a shorter one, as they can be quite long – although I never know where they are going or will end till I get about ¾ of the way in:

A lot of canvas for a little Monet (by Iain Douglas Kemp)

Bartholomew Foggerty, the brilliant weasel

Had been forced to buy a bigger easel

His new commission was really quite strange

And of the old easel quite out of range

He daubed the canvas in battleship grey

And then he started to weasel away

(some would say badger but that’s just absurd

for by shape and by colour he’s a different bird)

He added wrinkles in a darker shade

And cursed for how little he had been paid

To work on a piece outlandishly large

He should have really upped the charge

The smell was off-putting to say the least

And he got little conversation from the beast

So having painted a glorious grey-scape

He decided it was time to make his escape

He hopped out the window with the aid of a broom

And left the elephant alone in his room

He’d wasted his time, it just wasn’t funny

So much canvas for so little money

MARIE ELENA :  Love it, Iain!  Just as with Ringo, all your Foggerty poems stay true to his personality, making him seem very real.

Now, tell me about your real family.

IAIN : Yes, I have one son, Douglas Peter, who lives in England. He’s 23 now and I’m very, very proud of him. Despite coming from a “broken home” he has turned into a wonderful young man who leaves a lasting impression on everyone he meets. He’s in a dead-end job right now and I worry for him as he has the same tendency towards depression that I had, but he is coping much better these days and does his best to stay positive at a time and in a world were being young isn’t what it should be. I see him in summer, although he doesn’t get out to Spain as much since he finished studying.

My parents live in Almerimar near to my house and it is wonderful having them close.

We go out for dinner together every Saturday night and at the very least touch base by phone every day.

MARIE ELENA :  I can relate.  My folks are just a couple of doors down from us, and it is just the perfect situation.  Are they supportive of your writing?

IAIN: They, my son and my family in Scotland, are all very supportive of my writing, both poetically and musically. My dad has my podcasts on his iPod and mum has her favourites too. I have been divorced and single for far too long now to ever change that. Partly because the trust in me was crushed too often, but mainly because I am happy this way. My life is full and busy and I don’t have time for a partner. If I did I would have to compromise, something I would do out of love, then resent. So, no, just me and the cats, Messrs. Pickle & Smudge.

MARIE ELENA :  You’ve written more than one poem about your dad’s health.  How is he doing?  I hope he is on the mend.  Iain, some write about pain, and find it to be healing.  Personally, I have difficulty tapping into deep pain and translating it to poetry, and I can’t say I particularly find it cathartic.  How do you feel about it?  Was writing about your dad’s illness helpful in some way?

IAIN : It was last year that my dad was diagnosed with prostate cancer – a battle he has, I’m happy to say, won. I have to be honest, I wrote about it because it was there. It was a natural subject for the right prompt because it was happening and it was real and it was scary. I don’t think writing about it was either therapeutic or cathartic – it was just something that had to be done. When it comes to emotion and pain I am incredibly lucky.

I can look back on horrible periods of my life or any given moment of crisis, recall all the emotion and detail, but then write about it in a totally detached, dry-eyed sort of way. It doesn’t take me back to it and I’ve done my healing in other ways, so it is actually quite easy to do. The only question to ask myself is “Is it worthy of sharing?” I normally click “post” just before that question pops into my head!

MARIE ELENA :  Happy to get good news about your dad!

I’ve never been to Spain, and Almerimar sounds lovely.  Tell me a bit about it, if you would. I’d love to get a mental picture.  Of course, you are welcome to give a visual picture or two as well.

IAIN : Almerimar is a seaside village near El Ejido in Almería, Andalusia, south-east Spain. There is a marina, a golf course, some shops, lots of bars and restaurants (not as many as there were, I have to say– the going is tough!). There is an excellent supermarket too. The main square is best seen after midnight on a Saturday in summer – the terraces all full and the kids all playing in the middle. Almería is a unique micro climate, the only European desert; we have mountains, beaches – many virtually untouched. The skiing is 2 ¼ hour’s drive away in Sierra Nevada which is excellent as is the diving off the Cabo de Gata in the marine reserve. This is the last province with free tapas with your drinks, and the worst spoken Spanish in all the Kingdoms of Spain! By the way, as I write this it’s 2:30p.m. and 35ºC outside on June 1 ^st!! It will get very hot in July and August. My home has a view of the bay. My parents’ house sits on the golf course. This is a paradise and difficult to leave – I had never lived anywhere for more than 6 years before I came here – 14 years ago, mind you, I only came for a month!

MARIE ELENA :  It is beautiful, and sounds so charming!  No wonder you decided to extend that month just a tad.

We’ll get back to your writing talent in a moment, but you are actually multi-talented.  You, just like my dad, are a teacher and a drummer.   What led you to become a teacher, and of EFL (English as a Foreign Language) in particular?  What do you love most about teaching, and what (if anything) do you despise?

IAIN :  I fell into teaching more by luck than judgement. I spent most of my career in hotel management and restaurant ownership. I had done a lot of training in the hotel business,  so that was good grounding for teaching later. Finally the stress had become too much and I quit the trade and became of all things, an estate agent. It was the height of the boom in Spain and the sales were high, and so was the commission. It was still stressful, but better hours. Then came the crash. Everything stopped. Almost overnight there was no building, no re-sales, no loans to be had – to be honest the recession here is getting worse and worse and no-one sees an end to it, but that discussion is for somewhere else. I spent a few months kicking my heels applying for about every bi-lingual sales job I could find, but all to no avail. Then one day my love of the English language took over, and I decided to train as an EFL teacher. I went to live in Barcelona and did my month-long course, and then started work. I almost immediately went to England to a summer school, and then started at Rainbow Academy in Almería when I got back in the autumn. That was just three short years ago but it seems like much longer. In a good way, though.

Teaching is the best thing that has ever happened to me. People that know me say it’s as if someone threw a switch and I became a different person. Now no-one believes I was once cripplingly, painfully shy. I just threw that nonsense away. I killed and buried all my demons and set out on a grand new adventure with a spring in my step and a tune on my lips. Teaching has made me calm, confident, and altogether a better person. I have no stress, and most of all I am no longer afraid and now I really like Iain Douglas Kemp, who I had hated for far too long.

MARIE ELENA :  Wow.  That is just fascinating, Iain.  It’s wonderful to hear that it had such a profound effect on you. Is there a particular age group with which you prefer to work?

IAIN :  I suppose I prefer the older teenagers, simply because by that time you can have much more of a real conversation with them. However, my weekly joy is the two 1 ½ hour classes with my “Ten Clever Girls.” They are just thirteen and all amazingly bright. It is just pure bliss to teach them and know they get it all and mostly first time. I also enjoy teaching the young’uns – 7 or 8 year olds – it’s more challenging, but this time of year, preparing their year end presentations, I get to see how much they’ve achieved (and I have achieved) in the 9 months, and that is a real joy too. Teaching adults, which I do at the University of Almeria in the morning, is different and also very challenging, especially if they are lacking motivation or have picked up bad habits over the years, but still it is enjoyable nonetheless. The only thing I despise is laziness. Stupidity I can fix – sometimes it will take a while – but not trying at all is just annoying and really drives me nuts.

To sum up, there are really two things I love about teaching – what it has done for me, and seeing what I do for the students.

MARIE ELENA :  I wish all teachers had this outlook on their students.  Though I must say that there seems to be that common thread running through the teachers represented here at Poetic Bloomings.  Perhaps all teachers should be poets at heart, eh?

Now on to percussion and harmonica:  I know you’ve been writing for approximately 30 years, but how long have you been a musician?  I’d love to hear about your band!

IAIN :  Well, I’ve been playing drums for just as long – I got my first kit when I was 16 – a 1948 Premier jazz kit, which I still have, although I’ve made some additions to it recently. My main kit is a hybrid of old and new and lots of cymbals – I do mean lots!

The band is semi-unofficially (we think we’ll stick with it) called Junkyard Dogs. We are still really in the rehearsal stage, as we only get to practice on Sundays and there are lots of interruptions. For instance, I go away to the UK in summer to teach and last year our rhythm guitarist was back in Germany for 5 months. However, we now finally have a bass player, which is a huge improvement and a boon to all – especially me. In the last 12 months the lead guitarist and I have written about twenty songs (words by me of course!), and this time next year we hope to be ready to record them. We know we’ll never be more than a pub band, but some of the music is pretty good, if I do say so myself, and we think we could sell one or two -maybe more – and get some bucks and fame that way. We actually formed last year, as I wanted to put a band together to play at my 50 ^th birthday party – which we did. I’m very happy that all my cajoling and nagging has lead to more commitment and the band continuing. As to style well, light rock & blues really, but we tend to label it pretentiously, “Prog-Folk Blues” which is probably fairly accurate when it comes to my songwriting.

MARIE ELENA :  What does being a musician fill in you?  Is it very different from the satisfaction writing poetry brings to you?

IAIN :  I find the songwriting process as fulfilling and as easy as writing poems – the guys are amazed how quickly I can produce a lyric that is half-decent! It’s the same process for me – I think, I get a title and I start typing and stop when I feel it’s done. I’ve even added a chorus to one of my poems so that that could be a song too.

The real enjoyment comes from playing. Even though it’s just rehearsing, it is so much fun,  and as we get better each time we feel as if we are achieving something. That makes me smile and feel warm inside. In September I’m hoping to spend my holiday doing an intensive hand-percussion course, as I have all the gear and no idea! It is very different to playing drums, and I need to be guided to get a basis in that style.

I enjoy the singing and playing blues-harp (which I’ve only been doing a couple of years) too. At the moment I step out from the drums to sing and play on acoustic blues numbers, but my singing while drumming is coming along, although it’s incredibly difficult.  It’s just so much fun to do and that’s why I look forward to my over-packed weekend with such relish.

MARIE ELENA: So, is there music to “Shimmy?”   If so, is it out there where we can hear it?

Don’t jump, shimmy! (A blues in A – by Iain Douglas Kemp)

Get outta the way baby
Daddy’s coming through
get outta my path
I’m a- coming true
my aim is steady
my mind is set
I’m placing me
a winning bet
pay the piper
pick a tune
let me see ya waddle
‘neath the moon
dance with the devil
swing with the saints
Sachmo’s blowin’
and it’s getting’ late
You know what I want
you know what a- gimme
when I say frog
don’t jump, shimmy!

IAIN : Not really, I read it as a sort of blues-rap and then play some harp at the end – I was thinking of doing that with the band though so you never know, it may grow wings and fly! I’ll let you know.

MARIE ELENA : You and I share a distaste (“hate” is such an ugly word) for the form Walt writes exceptionally well:  Sestina.  Is there a form to which you are partial?  Or do you tend to steer clear of poetry forms in general?

IAIN :  Short answer: I don’t do form!

MARIE ELENA: But, tell us how you really feel!

IAIN : To me it’s like maths, all that counting and measuring … maybe I have to do that with songs, but usually I change the scansion after Stuart has put a tune to the words, and that’s easy. I just don’t like rules in poetry. I like to rhyme and try and stick to a scheme,  so I suppose I do use some forms – even if they of my own making – but I prefer free verse and as I say my process is: think, get title, write till it’s done, spell check, post! Form slows that down and it feels contrived to me.

Listen, I really admire people who do it well and make it feel natural, but that just isn’t me.

MARIE ELENA :  Did you receive formal training and education in poetry?

IAIN : Well, no. I suppose we read some poetry at school (I went to a minor English public school) but I wasn’t streamed to do English Lit,  so my exposure was self inflicted. As a boy I just wrote what was in my head,  and as a man I do the same.

MARIE ELENA :  As I’d mentioned above, I believe you have been writing for 30+ years.  What drew you into it, and what has held you there?

IAIN :  Ah, well, 30 years. Yes, that’s what my bio says. True enough -  I started as a teenager and wrote very introspective or way-out psychedelic poetry for years. It was my escape route. I was a very troubled young boy,  and words seemed the only way to express myself, but in my twenties someone stole my collection – my, till then, life’s work – and it killed it for me for years. In my early thirties I was very troubled, ending in a breakdown,  and I turned to poetry again for escape. After that I wrote spasmodically but really started writing with new vigour and commitment in 2008. I friended J.P.Dancing Bear on Facebook and saw that Robert was about to start the first PAD.  Lliterally within a couple of days and I thought to myself “I’m gonna do that.” I got my first email of encouragement and praise from Nancy Posey on day three – that really spurred me on. After that came The Baker’s Dozen and a couple of years of writing daily, up to last year when it all got a bit hard and then dried up completely. I love to write though, and I’m glad I’m back in the swing, even if it’s only one or two a week since April.

MARIE ELENA :  We all seem to experience dry spells, or “writer’s block” at some point.  Tell me about how it “all got a bit hard and then dried up completely.”  I know you had even seriously considered never writing another poem.  Do you know what took you down that path in the first place?  What was it like?  What brought you out of it?

IAIN : This is difficult.  Marie Elena, you gave me the option to not answer a question – this could have been the one to refuse, but I will try the best I can and be as open as I am permitted. The first signs of trouble were in November 2010 – I pulled out of the PAD half way through, as I was too busy – or so I said. After that, I was very hit and miss in writing,  having been a poem-a-day man for some time. I knew what the problem was, and it was difficult to face up to. There had been some friction in my writing group, and some people left. (No names –no pack drill here). It left me very sad and unhappy for quite a time, and bit by bit I just became less inclined to write. Once again in November last year I pulled out half way through and then didn’t write or read poetry for 5 months.

Getting back in was hard, I was seriously regretting being involved in an anthology project to which I submitted some of my worst poems ever, I feel, and I was doing a lot of music and songwriting. Not writing poetry had become a habit.  In fact it just never ever occurred to me to sit down and try. Eventually I pulled up my boot straps and said: “Right! If you want to write again, April is the time to do it so c’mon Red, show some backbone!”  Well I managed it, and I’m very happy to be back in the swing of things.

MARIE ELENA :  We’re happy as well, Iain.  There are just some poetic voices that cannot go without being severely missed.  Yours is one.  So, what are your writing/publishing plans for the near future?

IAIN : Despite my new found courage,  I don’t take rejection well and I generally dislike the attitude of superiority that most editors have,  so I don’t submit much. However I have decided to publish a book this year myself, and I can reveal a secret project for a Baker’s Dozen book in the near future. I have had an acceptance recently, but the details are still unclear on publication so I’m playing that close to my chest for now. Under my other hat, I hope this time next year to be sending demos to music producers with a view to selling the songs rather than the band – that said, as my songwriting partner put it “I’d be a one-hit-wonder!” Quite right too!

MARIE ELENA :  Congratulations on your acceptance, and best wishes for your book and this “secret project.”  Please do keep us posted.

You mention “new found courage.”  Your dear friend Natalie beautifully penned “Scarred and Scared” about you.

Scarred & Scared (by Natalie Jones)

Youth misspent in self-loathing,
Ignored and emotionally dented.
Rejected, dejected,
Resenting and lamenting
The small boy hides inside his fragile shell,
Aged and wearied by thoughtless words and emotional deprivation.
Searching out warmth from any source
Seeking a cure for his terminal loneliness
Aching to be cherished and loved
He clasps at faint, feigned or temporary traces of humanity.
Giving unconditional, unguarded slices of his over- generous heart
Receiving just the soured milk of human unkindness.
Wounded once more he slips back into his delicate armour
Unappreciated
Unloved
Alone

MARIE ELENA: Tell me about the young Iain Douglas Kemp, and how is he different today?

IAIN : Being a child was awful – I still find it hard to picture the good bits. There were lots of course, but the overall impression is a thick black cloud that blocks out any memory from my youth so effectively that I have to focus or be particularly reminded of the little tastes of joy. I am an only child and always found it hard to make friends, so much so that I didn’t object at all when my “friends” would decide to beat me up. I was mostly a loner, alone and lonely, looking in from the outside, rejected by my peers, frightened of trying to get involved because then would come the rejection and the fists.

That sense of being the outsider tortured me well into adulthood, and only at the age of 47 did I finally get rid of my fears and demons. I truly believe I was born sad. There was a sad-monster that lived inside me and ate away at everything good. I also know that I slew the monster and scattered his remains to the four winds. I am so different now to the young me, both physically and mentally that the two could barely be believed to be one and the same. I hid most of my suffering, especially from my family. It was only ever really Natalie who could scale the wall and see me for what I really was, the good and the bad.

Now, well, as I said earlier, now I am happy and content with no fears and no demons. No more social phobia, and people actually consider me an extrovert. All through the power of my mind and the change in me that came through becoming a teacher. The one thing that has remained constant is my dedication and loyalty to those few I know are true friends. Some people might be worth dying for; the really special ones are worth killing for!

MARIE ELENA :  I always ask (and we’ll get to it momentarily with you as well) if there was only one thing we could know about you, what would it be?  Well, I could say of the previous question, “If I could keep just one question for this interview, which one would I keep?”  That one would have been it.  It seems each highlighted poet has one response that screams “this is my core.”   Thank you for sharing you “core” with us, Iain.

IAIN :  Marie Elena, you asked me to chose a poem that typifies my work and personality, and I asked you if I could choose two. The reason for that is, what you asked for is easy, but I have one poem so special to me I really want to share it.

MARIE ELENA :  Share on, Sir.

IAIN :  The first is Peregrine, certainly one of my best, not just because it is published and recorded for podcast by the wonder actress and wildlife activist, Virginia McKenna, but because sometimes you just know when you have written a real stunner. I remember reading this back for the first time and I trembled. It was just so exciting. I like it because I like writing with a list of one or two word lines and this is that style at its best. I’ve never read it live nor do I have plans to record it, Virginia’s version is so definitive, I could never compete with her wonderful voice and phrasing. So here it is:

Peregrine (by Iain Douglas Kemp)

High above the fishing grounds

he wheels, turning slowly,

eyes focused on the sea far below.

Splash!

Splash!

Another and yet

another.

It’s a good day to hunt!

His wings start to beat,

he angles down picking up speed

with every beat,

the wings rake back:

the dive commences.

Faster

and faster

he plummets sea-wards,

the wind ruffling his plumage,

the air whistling in his ears.

Faster

and still

faster.

At maximum speed now,

the danger begins:

at more than two hundred miles an hour

even his keen vision blurs,

his head is fuzzy,

confused,

he shakes it,

yearning for clarity,

searching for focus.

Suddenly at one hundred feet

he stretches his wings,

arching them,

swinging his legs down,

the razor sharp talons out-stretched.

He hardly touches the water:

a glancing blow,

barely wetting his feathers,

the claws sink deep into the side of the fish;

the wings beat hard and he lifts,

clearing the still foaming surface,

he turns,

he swoops down to the beach

and lands.

The fish tastes divine

and as he sinks his sabre-like beak

into the soft flesh, he reflects:

Damn, I’m good at this!

The second poem I have chosen is very different. It’s not my usual style but I would love to be able to write like this all the time. This, for me, is the best I have ever produced, and I know many disagree with that point of view. This came about after a Saturday night dinner: beer, wine, liqueurs and good food, then a copious amount of rum and coke. By 5 a.m. that took me to a place of inspiration I have never seen since – this was my 10 minutes of being Jack Kerouac … reaching inside and saying it all… it’s now part of a trilogy ,but the second two don’t quite capture that which the first has -  although the title is only explained in the second. Love it or hate it, if I could be remembered for one poem and one poem alone, this would be it:

Waitin’ fo’ Columbus (Part 1 – by Iain Douglas Kemp)

I danced on the roof

wid ya Mama and Lordy, Lordy

save me Bro, I felt the rain pouring down

on my head. I felt the pain that yo’ and your so

called friends been talkin’ about and then I,

I knew that strange thang that you bin feelin’

all this time and I knew well about that

thing that Kerouac talked about ‘til I got all

heated and sweaty then I took a walk down to

the corner of 8th and 42 ^nd , took me a deep breath of

all that love and scary kinda livin’ that all be seepin’

through the cracks down there and I caught me a bus

goin’ up town, get outta that hell and make some tracks…

See, me I’m headin’ fo’ Jersey, let them take the rap and find me some peace…

Yo’ believe what yo’ will this boy is innocent but there be blame pouring down just like the Rain pouring down on the Eastside blaming the upper fifties for the poverty and lack of hope when up there they be livin’ it fine and full of hope and tomorrow….

Tomorrow for us is a cancelled promise waitin’ to

be redeemed in love, in truth, in life itself… waitin’ fo’

someone. Something to bring to an end this waitin’,

this agony, this pain and sorrow: never ending….

… I danced on the roof wid ya Mama and she

said she had planted all this green to make us all

feel good and so I never did understand why such a

place so beautiful could become a place to leave with

so much despair and as that garden still grows I am lost

and cannot know what took … what metaphysical knife twisted in the sad and lonely soul of ya Mama that made her leave her beautiful rooftop and meet the cruel sidewalk so decisively saying goodbye to all that refused to love her for the pure and so, so, so scarily influential beautiful person that she (who held us all tight in her dreams)

had come to be…

The Brooklyn Bridge will never look the same again…

MARIE ELENA :  Thank you, Iain!  Incredible pieces, both.

Now finally, if we could know only one thing about you, what would you tell us?

IAIN :  Well, it would have to be two things.

1. On a personal note, there is nothing I wouldn’t do for a true friend.

2. On a poetic note, I don’t just write comic verse, I do serious poetry too!

******

For more of Iain’s work , here is the link to his blog: http://almerimarlife.com/iain-kemp-poetry-2 . Iain says, “It’s a bit different from normal blogs in as much as it is a blog within a blog (A Life in Spain). The owner gave me the domain as a present, and the poems are actually on his forum with links from my page.”

In addition , you may read and hear his poetry at http://www.iainkemppoetry.com/ (new podcasts every friday!).