Influential Influences

Something always clicked with me whenever I read any of Dr. Seuss’ books. The way he rhymed was different and fresh…it didn’t follow the “perfect rhyme” outline. His characters were so fresh and the stories that lead these characters always had a meaning. One of the reasons (influences) I wrote “Blair the Bear” was because of him.

Poetry itself is another machine. My greatest influence is a man that had and will forever more have a “dark cloud” over his name, his poetry is “dark”, but unique if Hitchcock (another favorite) is the father of the thriller genre of movies then Mr. Edgar Allen Poe is the grandfather of the thriller short story. He wasn’t afraid to take his writing to depths that people/critics/essayists deemed “taboo” or “off-limits”. He explored the mind of darkness, but with an elegance that has its own place with the greatest poets/writers in history. Several of my poems are influenced by him and will continue to be.

So my question is: who are your influences not just with writing (if you write), but with life in general?

The Gauntlet

This poem is from my second compilation of poetry “The Dim Light”. The last three (The Battle…, Elijah Robert…& Asher Michael…) were from my third “Gray Matters”. I honestly don’t know (or remember) why I was so intent (some say obsessed) on writing this. I just had in my mind an ironic tragedy and this is what came out, I hope you enjoy it.

The Gauntlet
Nothing had ever fazed his faze-less face,
particular phases failed to crack an interest.
Depression scaled up bare walls to the base,
letting insanity outside to be witnessed.

So day after day, he would curse aloud

at himself and at anything he resented.
He would carry with him a darkened cloud
which was evident and clearly represented.

He never once thought that his daily smokes
would bring repercussions too massive to believe.
But all the while death rode on silent spokes
waiting for enough damage to go and retrieve.

When she was diagnosed, he vowed to quit,
but it was too late, the damaged had quickly spread.
She grew weak, his nightmare…an exhibit,
he longed desperately for his own death instead.

His wife urged him to stop; she bid advice
so he tried and tried until he was out of tries.
But she had ended up paying the price,
because cancer confiscated his only prize.

Suicide wouldn’t let them reunite
so everyday after he would become bolder.
He took chances deemed careless, or not right

and the blame had laden the weight of a boulder.

And right up until the end of his days
the blame was still buried inside of his burden.
The burden’s blaze engulfed a vacant glaze
to which he wore until the fall of the curtain.

The Passion for more Passion

Here’s the question of the day: With the success of “The Passion of the Christ” would you like to see more of these movies made? I am actually surprised that more movies (from the bible) haven’t been made and released yet. I think if they are portrayed as “close” to what the bible states (I guess a consensus understanding with consideration to different interpretations some straight-forward others not so much) it would be enjoyable to see. Personally I would like to see a updated version of the “Ten Commandments” a thorough story on David (no bias), Noah’s Ark and the story of Joseph (Jacob’s). What would you want to see made?

Asher Michael Pasquale

Now, to be fair I will be posting my youngest son's poem next (that's all they need is more rivalry) which is in the same realm as Elijah's. Enjoy!

Asher Michael Pasquale

An angelical ray of light

sparkling through a dreary night

hardy rock, with a lustrous glow

earnest elf always on the go

roving to retrieve all in sight.

Mighty engine sharp as a sword

ingrained inside of our heart’s core

christened in the love of the Lord

hearty star, who’s heard with a roar

a determined force full of coos

equipped to use his smile to woos

lamp of life spreading winsome hues.

Pillar of love whom we cherish

a virtue blooming with thunder

splendid souls are comprised from this

quaint and jolly muse of wonder

unique in his warmth and content

as is his laugh and playful way

limitless one-hundred percent

every day we thank God and pray.

Elijah Robert Pasquale

Here is my next poem (It's pretty much straight forward) "Elijah Robert Pasquale" about my eldest boy. I should probably note also that I am horrible at editing (so any mistakes anyone notices please let me know) and a lot of the poems that I will share with you are from (some) 9 years ago up until now. They cover a vast variety of subjects and styles. I will warn you some of them are very personable and very different from "Blair the Bear", some are dark, some are funny, some are encouraging, some are about God and some are quite random. I do not swear or use offensive language. Any comments regarding any of my poems are strongly suggested and encouraged. I truly hope you enjoy my poetry, God bless.

Elijah Robert Pasquale

Energetic bundle of joy

lovingly loved, our little boy

into this world you were conceived

just and righteous as we believed

a smile so charming and sincere

he wears the hope we all hold dear.

Remember we’ll be here for you

open armed to console you too

be yourself and you’ll be alright

everyday you shine light on life

roaming around on hands and knees

the world is filled with God’s beauty.

Peaceful cherub who we cherish

a blessing in which we are blessed

splendid souls are so contagious

quaint and quiet, but full of zest

unique are his beautiful eyes

as is his laugh and playful way

lively and bright as a sunrise

everyday we thank God and pray.

What is a great poem?

I was once fortunate enough to have a English/Literature teacher review and give me her impression of my poetry. Now mind you she also was a poet who wrote only in a free verse style (you'll see the value of that sentence soon). So we met and conversed about my poems and such...(I personally enjoy writing poetry in rhyme, but I did and still do dabble with the free verse style.) After a brief conversation I found something was quite peculiar about her comments and notes. Wouldn't you know the only poems she "liked" were the few I wrote in the free verse style. Which brings me to my question: What (besides opinion and at times a bias) is a great poem? This is a topic that probably boggles the mind of many. When judges look at your credentials what do they look for? If you have none do they just cast you aside? Why does one have to pass away in order to get any recognition and appreciation for their life's work?

Queries about queries

Has anyone ever sent out a query letter to a publishing house or an agent? They say your query has to be near perfect (picture a first impression) to "grasp" the reader/agent/publisher to want to read more of your stuff. Not too much pressure right? In the world of literature today it seems to me that knowing someone ("on the inside") is crucial to getting noticed. Like I told Diane (dianeestrella.com) I sent out 52 or so query letters to agents...so far I've had 16 responses and all but 1 was pretty much "thank you, but not for me". The 1 wanted to read my story so now I wait and wait and wait. It's hard to "break through" in the world of literature, but for a Children's writer it seems at times almost impossible.  But even though the odds are incredibly stacked, I won't give up and I hope neither will you. I truly want to write for a living and God knows...so we'll see if it is meant to be. What are your thoughts about the whole process of being a writer?

Also every week a will share a poem, the subjects will vary...but any input or comments are always welcomed. This is my entry to the Rose and Thorn Journal. I will try to be interesting and update my blog as much as I can, I give Diane credit for always having something to talk about and being interesting. Thank you

"The Battle of The Haves and Have Nots"

Allies are allied and relied upon the flanks

with their swords and shields prepared to enter the stage.

Catapults are strategically positioned 

as valiant men stoically bide to engage.

Siege equipment is stationed away to the rear,

archers are placed in precise vantage points to fire.

Mounted stallions wait to stampede with saddled spears

death and bloodshed are the wages of wars desire.

Hundreds of muskets have been drawn from amongst us,

bayonets are rehearsed for close quarter combat.

Our line is an impenetrable formation

rouse the spirits and initiate the attack.

Sound the battle cry and keep your pistols close by

be steady and make ready for the trials of war

Canons are equipped with primed men groomed to defy,

above the battlefield is where the vultures soar.

Over the ridge lie the opposition’s forces

tanks and humvees scour the ground with noisy thunder.

Marching soldiers carry automatic rifles,

famished men scurry to lust and feed their hunger.

Spy planes estimate perceived locations achieved

fighter jets and bombers encircle the gray sky.

Battleships lock on to coordinates received

and one by one, the poor and the middle class die.