loose leaf and spiral bound

Well holy shit!  Can you believe that it has already been one entire year since I started this little blog?  That's right, on May 31, 2011 I decided that I needed a little accountability in my writing world and "loose leaf and spiral bound" was born... So, I'm sure you're wondering if it worked, right?  As of today, I am happy to report that I have in fact kept the promise I made to myself and have sent out poems each and every-single-frickin' month.  BAM!  That's right folks, I have submitted to eleven different literary journals and magazines and will be mailing number twelve tomorrow (because why wouldn't I procrastinate until the very last minute of the very last day of the month). Again I say to you, and with borderline excessive enthusiasm, BAM ! In all honesty, I am very proud of my meager success.  No, I haven't been picked up for publishing yet (suck) but I have managed to set a goal and keep it (yay). Along the way I have attracted

Hey there writing exercise! Long time, no see! To pick up where I last left off - - here we go with #5, titled... In a bind You call yourself independent. What you are is isolated. Never wanting me to take the lead, but never wanting to be left behind. I can see you debating me, but I cannot see your intent. Will you love me so fiercely? Push me to be my best for you? And why? For my gain or your pride? You expect reciprocity without earning it. Because you are stubborn... and foolish... and dammit, you are loyal. This loyalty will be the tie that binds. A chain holding me to you. And you to your independence.

I have used the past few days (or if I am being honest, the past week) to focus on reading instead of writing. Sometimes you need to refill the gas tank, right? Right. What did I read, you ask? Well, I'll tell you...I read the Hunger Games trilogy (yeah, I finally jumped on that train), then I re-read "The Summer of Black Widows" by Sherman Alexie, "Bite Me" by Christopher Moore, and then I devoured "The Gargoyle" by Andrew Davidson (so good!). It's true that only one of those books is a collection of poetry - - but to me it doesn't matter the genre, only that I am reading. It seems imperative to expose yourself (heh, not like that you dirty bird) to as many different lives, dreams, opinions, and stories as possible. You'll never experience everything all on your own, sometimes you've got to hear it from someone else. After all, isn't that one of the reasons why people write?  To share their story in hopes of connecting with som