RED: The color of blood, passion, lust, roses, dresses, heARTs, anger, lipstick and love. Red Rocks!!!!
There's nothing, not a single damn thing on earth, that can make you feel sexy and beautiful like a RED DRESS!
Poet and author Kim Addonizio (shown above) was born in Washington, D.C., in 1954. She received her B.A. and M.A. from San Francisco State University.
Her books of poetry include Tell Me (BOA Editions, 2000), which was a finalist for the National Book Award; Jimmy & Rita (1997); The Philosopher's Club (1994); and Three West Coast Women, with Laurie Duesing and Dorianne Laux (1987). Addonizio is also the author of In the Box Called Pleasure (1999), a collection of stories, and, with Dorianne Laux, the co-author of The Poet's Companion: A Guide to the Pleasures of Writing Poetry (1997). She co-edited Dorothy Parker's Elbow: Tattoos on Writers, Writers on Tattoos (2002) with Cheryl Dumesnil. Addonizio was a founding editor of the journal Five Fingers Review. Among her awards and honors are fellowships from the National Endowment for the Arts, a Pushcart Prize, and a Commonwealth Club Poetry Medal. Kim Addonizio teaches in the M.F.A. program at Goddard College and lives in San Francisco.
And I'm happy to say that she has a brand new book out entitled, "Ordinary Genius: A Guide for the Poet Within" which just came out in February of this year. It's another keeper, trust me! Here's a blurb from Amazon.com which persuaded me to buy yet another book on writing poetry (we must always grow---to stagnate is to die!):
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"Inspired by the gratifying success of Companion, Kim Addonizio presents exciting new insights into the creative process, craft, and the lessons of her own creative subjects--love, loss, identity, community--are here, along with a heady variety of writing exercises (and innovative ways to use the Internet). Chapters on gender, race, and class challenge readers to explore their creative vision more deeply, Addonizio, hailed for her passionate, award-winning poetry, shares her breakthroughs and frustrations frankly, including samples of rejection slips. She offers not only encouragement but also a wealth of knowledge about form and structure, metaphor and rhythm, revision, and that elusive goal: publishing.
"Poetry is not a means to an end," Addonizio maintains, "but a continuing engagement with being alive." Her generous guide is for beginners and experienced poets, for groups and in the classroom--indeed for anyone eager to glimpse the angel of poetry.
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If I had that girl's bod, I'd wear a flowing, RED dress every single day of my life! LOL!
One of my all-time favorite poems by the amazingly talented, tattooed and beautiful Kim Addonizio. I own all of her books and they are all amazing, fabulous and full of heART & soul:
WHAT DO WOMEN WANT?
I want a red dress.
I want it flimsy and cheap,
I want it too tight, I want to wear it
until someone tears it off me.
I want it sleeveless and backless,
this dress, so no one has to guess
what's underneath. I want to walk down
the street past Thrifty's and the hardware store
with all those keys glittering in the window,
past Mr. and Mrs. Wong selling day-old
donuts in their café, past the Guerra brothers
slinging pigs from the truck and onto the dolly,
hoisting the slick snouts over their shoulders.
I want to walk like I'm the only
woman on earth and I can have my pick.
I want that red dress bad.
I want it to confirm
your worst fears about me,
to show you how little I care about you
or anything except what
I want. When I find it, I'll pull that garment
from its hanger like I'm choosing a body
to carry me into this world, through
the birth-cries and the love-cries too,
and I'll wear it like bones, like skin,
it'll be the goddamned
dress they bury me in.
I want it flimsy and cheap,
I want it too tight, I want to wear it
until someone tears it off me.
I want it sleeveless and backless,
this dress, so no one has to guess
what's underneath. I want to walk down
the street past Thrifty's and the hardware store
with all those keys glittering in the window,
past Mr. and Mrs. Wong selling day-old
donuts in their café, past the Guerra brothers
slinging pigs from the truck and onto the dolly,
hoisting the slick snouts over their shoulders.
I want to walk like I'm the only
woman on earth and I can have my pick.
I want that red dress bad.
I want it to confirm
your worst fears about me,
to show you how little I care about you
or anything except what
I want. When I find it, I'll pull that garment
from its hanger like I'm choosing a body
to carry me into this world, through
the birth-cries and the love-cries too,
and I'll wear it like bones, like skin,
it'll be the goddamned
dress they bury me in.
Kim Addonizio
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I hope you all have a super, relaxing, inspirational Saturday! Read and write a poem today----I plan to!!!
Hugs and Blessings and Peace and Love,
~*~Marion @->-----
Let books be your dining table,
And you shall be full of delights
Let them be your mattress
And you shall sleep restful nights.~Author Unknown
Books are the bees which carry the quickening pollen from one to another mind. ~James Russell Lowell
Books can be dangerous. The best ones should be labeled "This could change your life." ~Helen Exley
4 comments:
Sadly, I don't have any red dresses in my closet, but I do have several red shirts! Do they count?
I'll make a point of reading at least one poem today, just because you said to!!
I absolutely LOVE IT! I had a red dress once a decade or so ago that, whenever I would wear it, I'd get at least one compliment from a male stranger.
I've always loved red.
This was wonderful... I've loved her since you mentioned her to me the first time...was it in the Castle?
Here is my favorite:
STOLEN MOMENTS
What happened, happened once. So now it’s best
in memory—an orange he sliced: the skin
unbroken, then the knife, the chilled wedge
lifted to my mouth, his mouth, the thin
membrane between us, the exquisite orange,
tongue, orange, my nakedness and his,
the way he pushed me up against the fridge—
Now I get to feel his hands again, the kiss
that didn’t last, but sent some neural twin
flashing wildly through the cortex. Love’s
merciless, the way it travels in
and keeps emitting light. Beside the stove
we ate an orange. And there were purple flowers
on the table. And we still had hours.
My God. It's like the reader is there, watching.
quid
Love the red and the post! Red is the color of I AM! Why NoT!
Linda
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