Over the past year or so, I’ve written a few poems — perhaps one a week.
A poem is a nice thing to write when I feel like writing something but don’t really have anything to say.
Usually, I just come up with a word or phrase and it turns into a poem and somehow gives me a little twang of accomplishment.
It’s actually more than a little twang. Somehow I probably feel more of a sense of accomplishment, as a person, after having written a poem — than about most of the “important” things I do all day long. I’m weird that way.
I was looking back over these and noticed that there are more than I thought.
So I decided to pick out a few (37, to be exact) and make a little book.
Most of them are just simple images that apparently meant something to me at the time. A few are little political Limericks. There’s a sonnet about my dog.
It ain’t Shakespeare, that’s for sure. And it ain’t Robert Frost. And it’s not really even ________ (fill in the blank).
But I wanted to make a book, just to have a copy on my shelf, and listed on my website. And, if there’s a poetry nut out there who’s interested, on his or her shelf.
These days, with print on demand, that’s pretty easy.
With my Mac and an old copy of MSWord, the typesetting was easy, albeit nothing special.
I designed the cover, using a picture I took with my phone.
I uploaded the files to createspace.com, ordered a proof, and got it in the mail a few days later (today).
This blog post may be the only marketing campaign this book gets. I’ve already embarrassed my children enough for one lifetime. I may be the only person who buys a copy — and that’s okay. I’ll probably buy about ten copies, give one to the library, give some as gifts, and put a couple on…my other shelves.