I have books!

After two weeks of being sick, I am beginning to feel better.

My much awaited book launch in Bothell, Washington two weeks ago was not stellar.  I had laryngitis and did not sound my best poetic self.  However, the venue was lovely, poets and friends showed up, and my editor, Sandra Kleven hosted with lots of wine and cheese and her usual unflappable grace.

A week later, my readings in Portland and Bellingham went on without me as I was still horizontal on the couch.  And so is life.  If I have learned anything these past few weeks, it is to let go, as best one can, to expectations.  Things happen.  People get sick.  Life moves forward with or without you.  Accept your disappointment and begin again.

This past Monday, my books showed up, and slowly over the course of the week, I realized I have a published book of poems.  Seven years of work now gathered together in one place.  AND I AM THRILLED!  In the end, the book turned out beautiful and for that I am grateful to Cirque Press.

We write to share our story and our view of the world.  We write with the hope to connect to another human soul. We write to say for one small moment, I was here.

These poems cover a lot of territory.  From growing roses, childhood, regrets, loss of family, politics, the Pacific Northwest, and more.  They are poems rooted in observation.  They are poems that take us on the highway we all must travel, towards the fleeting nature of all things.

If you get a chance to read my poems, and if they touch you in any way, please drop me a note.   This is why I write.

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Currently available on Amazon.

 

Yours in poetry,

 

Carey

 

 

celebrate with Carey Taylor — The Poetry Department . . . aka The Boynton Blog

Join Carey Taylor as she celebrates the launch of her debut collection, The Lure of Impermanence, next Friday, August 17, 2018, 7:00pm, at Tsuga Fine Art and Framing in Bothell.

via celebrate with Carey Taylor — The Poetry Department . . . aka The Boynton Blog

PR for Poets – a guest post — The Poetry Department . . . aka The Boynton Blog

This is a guest post by Carey Taylor. You write poems. You workshop poems. You submit poems to literary journals and some get accepted. Finally, you have a collection for a book and a small press publishes it. Then, just before it is scheduled for release you realize you have no promotion plan and you […]

via PR for Poets – a guest post — The Poetry Department . . . aka The Boynton Blog

Waiting…

Today I am sitting in my back yard at a picnic table writing this blog.  I am looking at the back of my new/old house that was built in 1947 and was advertised as a Cape Cod when we purchased it a month ago.   The clatter from the windows is grating as I watch a man push and pull a large industrial sander over the old oak floors in a desperate attempt to salvage them.  He has told me he can make them beautiful and for a small fortune, I have decided to believe him.

I have been counting down the days this project would begin because once it is finished, I can sleep in a real bed and unplug the blow up one I have been sleeping on for three months.  Once the floors are done, I can sit on a sofa and not a fold-up outdoor bistro chair.  Once the floors are done, I can set up a “real” office and get back to my writing schedule, submit poems, and pay bills, at my neatly organized desk and not at a picnic table with a tote bag for a file cabinet.  Once the floors are done, I can have people over for dinner inside the house and I can binge watch Netflix.

But in the meantime, I wait and look up at the large Italian Plum tree in front of me with its purple-blue-skinned fruit hanging thick on old branches.   I listen to the Scrub Jay in the spent lilac, the sound of a distant lawn mower, the words in Romanian I do not understand coming from the back bedroom, the whine of a small Fed-Ex plane overhead, the neighbor next door watering his potted plants.

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And I wait.  For the house to be a bit closer to finished, for my new book of poems, The Lure of Impermanence (Cirque Press) to have its final edit and to not forget a line from a poem in my new book—

Sometimes it’s important to stop—

to imagine a brush filled with Prussian blue
its earthy taste on your tongue
to see a night more richly colored than day

to find
like Vincent
a jewel in the darkness.

Or in my case, a jewel in the waiting.  

 

Yours in poetry,

Carey