Poetry ?reborn? emerges in crime story mystery novel - poetry
Since Mohamed Ali-then Cassius Clay-announced that he had printed "The world's direct poem," I have known that I would be a poet. "ME? WHEE!" His celebratory declaration evoking shivers contained by my concerned teenaged identity, for I reasoned in rhyme.
Everyday, hundreds-of-thousands of seemingly sane souls assure some inherent need to bare their concealed appeal via cruel alliteration or in delusional doggerel. As in Kris Kristofferson's early works, the amazing magic masquerades in sweet musical lyrics, if us with eternal data transcending generational barriers.
Even if none but we are ever permissible to assay our concealed essence, an inner hunger is unleashed-only to be squished-should we be so bold to be published.
In1978, I self-published my first poetry book, Beacon©, to an enthusiastic acceptance of some not learned who didn't realize, fearing rejection, I had never submitted my musings to dull publishers. After all, Rod McKuen, anguish countless rejections, had self-published. And he was said-at that time-to be, "The world's most far and wide read poet. "
To the great compliment of local yokel fans, the subsequent year, I followed up with Imperfections©, Verse by Russ Miles, songs and feelings brilliant who, where, and what I was-at that time in my life. Even more well received, I was enjoying the confirmatory consideration of a municipal newspaper poetry editor insisting that I co-chair a academy invitational conference for wantabe poets with the State Poet LaTourette. My books promotion well, a youthful, ravenous ego was being satisfactorily stroked.
Then, a curious thing happened. I immovable a case of conscience. What if an intolerant God held me liable for my gratuitous events or the bang of foisting my unholy understandings upon innocents?
Frightening purgatorial-or worse-reprisal prospects triggered immediate actions. Removing all left behind copies from the marketplaces which I had urbanized for distribution, I clogged penning poetry for the next twenty-five years.
Disabled at age fifty-three by Compound Sclerosis, I found for myself copy a different book, For Sale By Owners:FSBO©. A mystery adventure movie novel evolved present some insights that only a self-absorbed, experienced man of three messed-upped marriages could perhaps convey.
I carry on erudition that God is so forgiving. How He can inspire good to come of all things. Even some of my old songs are once more awaiting discovery credit to the song-writing, truck-driving atmosphere appearing connecting the FSBO covers.
By today's standards, Red Haring's vivid verse words and defiant rhyme renderings are no longer abysmal. Fairly they chew on the delicate "It's all about me" immoral fiber of a male male-wrestling with post 9-11 inner issues-choosing to make changes in his so self-consumed life. Red's songs emerge to stimulate reflections contained by Brooklyn Best, the no-saint heroine, real estate agent with whom he becomes idealistically involved-while being knitted as one to disentangle some horrific homicides-in this certainty based novel. Because of its use in a sub-plot, my poetry is being reborn.
As for Beacon© and Imperfections©, perchance I'll offer my few left over hand signed & numbered "First Edition" & "Limited Edition" poetry books on e-Bay®. After all, John Grisham's at first in print novels are now collector's items aren't they?
Free-Reprint Commentary In print by: Russ Miles See Terms of Reprint Below.
Article Copyright: 2005
Author Associate Email: mailto:MilesRuss@Gmail. com
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Russ Miles is the dramatist of the novel, For Sale By Owners:FSBO. Seasoned Real Estate NAR® Insurance broker Disabled by Compound Sclerosis, FOR SALE BY OWNERS:FSBO ISBN 0-595-28703-4,in trade paperback, is free by phone or Internet:1-800-Authors to order direct! Very HOT-LINK Adobe e-book & hard cover editions also available FSBO at Amazon. com at Barnes and Noble and other fine booksellers.
Comments: MilesRuss@Gmail. com.
Personal referrals to his publisher
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Grandpas House & From Iraq with Love [Two Poems]
Grandpa's House [The ole Real House]The house desirable painting Sun-blistered and flaking Grandpa happening to have us Boys-Mike and I- start Doing some scraping-While he, pealed off the ole Paint, and happening painting?Just a humble stiff house With quite a few rooms, but Strong a sufficient amount to keep the Winds and frost snows out, How he loved that ole house!..
Rhymes of an Arms Man [Vietnam War: 1971]
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I AM SO Obliged for simpler times. Stores were clogged on Sundays, TV shows seemed to make more sense, Family members spent ample time with each other, And associates were valued more than things.
Hindu Poet - Kamalakanta
Kamalakanta was born in Burdwan India in the late 18th Century. From an early age he uttered an appeal in religion and later in life Kamalakanta conventional admittance into Tantric Yoga from a Tantric yogi named Kenaram Bhattacharya.
You Lost Your Last Chance and Me
I will never think twice nor will I roll the dice When it comes to my life I will take my Grannio's adviceYou play the hand you're dealt when it comes to who will be your Dad - But if you bluff about a card's face value for too many years you fail to remember you had - No Aces or King of Hearts in your first deck - But fairly a worthless Joker-So Wild and Mad..
Two Poems: Boyhood, and Old Age [with a note on style]
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Review Of Stephen B. Wileys First Book Of Poetry: HERO ISLAND
Poet Stephen B. Wiley's first book of poetry, Hero Island, reflects tender snapshots and reminiscent overviews of a choice of stages of his life as a teenager effective on a farm in New Jersey, summer vacations spent with his category in Northern Vermont, and his categorical stance on life.
I Hunted TO SAY IT WITH A BUNCH OF Plants A CARD WOULD HAVE SUFFICED.I Hunted TO SAY IT WITH A PACK OF SWEETS A' HI' WOULD HAVE SUFFICED.
Three Poems: Dona Leonors Revenge; The Old Moon; Collective Sides [All in Spanish/all in English]
1) Doña Leonor's Revenge [1627 AD]Rafael Ortiz's fate Was on the plate Of Doña Leonor'sWhen she arrived In Lima, Peru; To taste revengeFor the beheading Of her husband. And so the plot?was now played out (in an alleyway) As she brokenhearted her trout!In SpanishTranslated by Nancy PenalozaLa leyenda de: La venganza de doña Leonor (1627 después de cristo)El destino de Rafael Ortiz Estaba sobre el plato De doña Leonor.
You can do and you can be whatever you want. You have the power, and the right, to make the changes.
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A Altered Place...
I wish we had met 20 years ago..
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I Saw the Universe
I can see the indigo blue of the skiesOr the cerulean of the nightI can see the stars wink, the grin of the moonDuring the changes of it's monthly face**I am in awe**I see the sun on it's yearly trekAlternately development the life in the earthAnd then desertion away to allow it to sleepUntil the next spring**I am told the Universe is "out there"Beyond those stars, moon and sun,Yet the power of what I can seeIs a fathoming afar my comprehension**I am in awe**"Out there" no time, no seasons passNo sense of age, hatred or loss existOnly the infinity0f the Universe**What IS "out there"?What IS the Universe that has no end?What IS the power that creates all this?I want to see it too**And then I remember..
You make me smile like I've seldom done before You give me a reason to want more and more..
Rules for Journalism Poetry
You've been inscription poetry since that first assignment in your high instruct inscription class. You know the rules about inscription poetry, right? Are there rules? Well, if you go to regularly the poetry forums diagonally the Internet as much as I do, you'd find that there are a lot of amateur poets who inflexibly affirm that there are no rules for inscription poetry and if a big shot even suggests appraisal poetry or books on poetry, many of the amateur poets will throw up a cynical front.
Because of You
You are to me my lifeline my security. That scares me.
I Shall Wait...
I Shall Wait..
Asha of Darfur [A poem with a commentary by the author]
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