Pleased to learn a poem I recently wrote will be published shortly. Details to follow.
Poem in response to a photo prompt from long ago

This photo was the prompt. And this is one of the many versions of the poem I wrote, most lost. I found this on an old document from 1999. Oh my, so many of those abstract concepts. But fun to find. Hmm… maybe another rewrite is in order.
I wonder what the news was of the day that convinced me the cold ones rule? I know it’s sure something I still fee.
The Stranger
Oh, so cold
the stranger is everywhere
the soul? sniveling little pest
we’ve sent away.
Trust us, you can
not trust us
Can’t read us, can you?
Modernity’s muse:
mirthless smiles
We see through you
but we are divine;
you cannot
comprehend us.
The stranger is everywhere,
existential nausea chokes.
It’s just that simpering little pest,
that whiner, that soul.
(c) L. Lee 2000
Part 2: Literacy Can Be the Bridge–The Power of Reading and Writing
How do you get there from here? I had no idea; I wanted to have a life that contained more reading, writing, poetry, nature. I’d always wanted to be a teacher, but could not afford to take any more time with college. I graduated with my teaching certificate, but there were only aide positions or sub positions, neither of which paid enough to pay the rent and neither of which carried insurance benefits.
Yet the rent wanted to be paid, the electric bill wanted to be paid and so on. Not having a family to turn to for any help, I knew I was on my own.
I found what should have been a great job in business, but it was killing me. I’d lay awake at night grinding my teeth, willing the hours not to pass. I just didn’t want to do it anymore, and yet I had no idea how to get there from my present life.
# # # #
For a number of years, I commuted by train to the loop. (That was my favorite part of the day, the commute!) I discovered I could read again, books I wanted to read.
One year, I decided to read only female writers or novels with strong female characters. There was no method to this plan, just the knowledge that I spent most of college reading male writers or about male characters.
I found books at the library and read them voraciously. I discovered Willa Cather, and my life changed forever. Why hadn’t I heard about her or read her books in college? Her characters’ longing for culture and education plus their longing for the beauty of nature resonated with me. I discovered Edith Wharton and the plight of the urban female. I discovered Theodore Dreiser and the plight of the female as he expressed it. I discovered Anne Tyler, Anne Frank, Jane Austen, The Bronte sisters, Virginia Woolf, Amy Tan. I discovered the lovingly drawn character of Helen and her search for education in Bernard Malamud’s The Assistant.
I was unsophisticated in how I chose the books to read, often choosing by the cover, by what was available, by what was on sale, by what I had heard about. This was before the internet, I had no literary types in my life at that point to help me make decisions. I got lucky in that I read many great books and “met” many great characters.
In these books, the longing for a more meaningful life as expressed by strong characters spoke to me: I was not alone.
But what was next, I wondered, even as my home made after college education continued?
On sharing poetry and losing ownership of your poems
I write mostly poetry, although this blog has gotten me to write more nonfiction. That’s a good thing. I do share many poems in their rough draft stages on my Facebook page, but I have a closed site and limit the views even there. However, I don’t post my poetry here on my website/ blog just yet.
Why? I’ve submitted poetry many places, and editors/ publishers don’t want work that has been “published” elsewhere usually. Mind you, only a few people are “reading” the poems there at all, but some will even claim a closed locked down Facebook site means
you’ve published your poem.
We poets are not writing Pulitzer Prize winning novels and posting them on Facebook! It seems a bit silly and excessive to me to not be able to share and get my close friends’ critiques; however, with the poetry publication market as competitive as it is, I don’t want to ruin any chances I might have of publishing.
I admit to liking an audience for my writing. Is that shallow? Probably.
Two good sites that are open to accepting poetry already posted on social media and personal blog posts and two I greatly respect are Rattle Magazine and Tuck Magazine. (Links here: Rattle Magazine and Tuck Magazine.)
In fact, Tuck Magazine just published a poem I’d placed here; they simply asked me to take it down for three weeks and to link to them. Sounds fair! Their goal is to INCREASE readership of writing about social issues. I posted this poem here on the first day I created this blog, and now it is published here: Refuge Laura Lee Poem in Tuck Magazine.
Rattle Magazine is a top notch magazine of modern poetry, and its poems knock me out. I can only dream of being published there.(I need to read and write more! Much more. I come away renewed with the power of poetry when I read their published poetry!)
Yet they don’t consider social media published for the sake of accepting work for competitions and possible publication.
Having said all that, I admit I am not a great poet. I can write good poetry of a particular style, narrative poetry and dramatic monologues, the latter of which is out of style. I have sometimes written good lyrical poetry. I am not an academic but a caring reader and writer, so to me it’s okay I’m not making a living as a poet.
As if. DECADES ago I did research and found that only 9 people in American admit to making their living as a poet. NINE out of what–1/3 of a billion Americans?
So I continue to read and write. I should spend more time reading and writing, and now that I am a part-time worker, I will.
I’m fighting the impulse to return to full time work; I don’t want that heavy workload anymore. Been there. Done that! For DECADES.
So here’s to the talented poets and fiction writers and nonfiction writers–I admire you! I’m looking for more great writers to read, new or old writers, poet or fiction, for good literature really inspires me.
And I’ve only got so many poems in me–I don’t want to lose the right to publish them unless they are actually PUBLISHED elsewhere. I send out the ones I can stand to lose! Since poetry doesn’t pay, I have many poems I just don’t want to lose. I know. As if!
Keep reading and writing!
If you have any writers you would recommend or novels, I’d love to hear about them!
Laura Lee
Pleased to learn my new poem “Refuge” was published today.
Pleased to learn my new poem “Refuge” was published today in Tuck Magazine.
Two poetry submissions this week
Two poems submitted this week. That’s two more than last week, so we are in the positive direction. More to follow. Two rejections or two acceptances or… two no answers.
I enjoyed writing these poems, one a political poem and one simply bizarre–but inspired by a rather unique painting. Art can inspire art!
Have you had any luck lately publishing?
Writers: writing, politics, art… Tuck Magazine mini review
As promised, I will continue to post links to sites I find are good for teachers, writers, poets, and more.
Tuck Magazine
–an online political, human rights and arts magazine, because social justice and the arts are important.
From their site:
“Tuck Magazine is a political, human rights, lit, music and arts journal with a difference: we aim to entertain a wide variety of readers globally.”
Now don’t you want to go there and read? I feel it’s important to have creativity walk with compassion, which is the “slogan” of this site, after all. I like what they are publishing.
If you have some sites you consider worth reading and investigating, let me know!
Laura Lee
And *this* photo was a writing prompt!
I kept this photo for nearly 18 years. We produced some interesting (erm!) writing from this photo prompt. I know a few friends and I are clownaphobic, and this really spoke to us. Wish I could find the writing. I am sure it was BIZARRE.
Try, just try not to think of this photo as the day goes on…the red hands, the red throat… Sinister and humorous at the same time.
Cold Ones Rule/ response to a writing prompt long ago
From the old MSN writing groups, long closed… 
More than once we had writing prompts based on photos or images. One was some type of floating supernatural ball. Wish I could find the image! This one isn’t it…but will do. From that, I wrote many versions of this poem:
COLD ONES RULE
Earthbound no more
not flying
but landless
cities melted
lights mock
our little kingdoms
domed over, micro-sized
feel your humanity
slipping, slipping….
hang on to your souls
those skittish, slippery
links to warmth
the cold ones rule
(c) L. Lee 2000
I miss the MSN writing groups

I remember getting up at 3:45 AM to have time to read, write, and post at my favorite MSN writing sites before work. I wanted to read what my peeers close and far were writing and reading. It was a great experience for nearly nine years.
And these groups were easy to find. We could simply go online and have them right there somehow, in our logons to our computers. Yes, MSN was that mighty. After the groups closed in 2006? 2007? We did look for comparable sites, but none were as easy to use or provided what we wanted. We tried Proboards and some groups that were plagued by nasty viruses. We tried Facebook groups, and some of them are good. Some went to blogs.
But what we didn’t find was a community in the sense of what we did have. That’s gone. I was able to meet a few of the members of these groups, with some coming as far away as New Zealand and England, and finding one dear talented poet and fellow teacher from Iowa…
More than once we had writing prompts based on photos or images. One was some type of floating supernatural ball. Wish I could find the image! This one isn’t it…but will do. From that, I wrote many versions of this poem:
COLD ONES RULE
Earthbound no more
not flying
but landless
cities melted
lights mock
our little kingdoms
domed over, micro-sized
feel your humanity
slipping, slipping….
hang on to your souls
those skittish, slippery
links to warmth
the cold ones rule
(c) L. Lee 2000