Showing posts with label L.L. Barkat. Show all posts
Showing posts with label L.L. Barkat. Show all posts

Thursday, May 22, 2025

Poets and Poems: L.L. Barkat and “Beyond the Glass”


She may be identified with poetry, but the very first work by L.L. Barkat that I read was Stone Crossings: Finding Grace in Hard and Hidden Places (2008). I know exactly where I was and what I was doing when I read it. In July 2009, I’d crashed during a weekend biking trip with a group. I felt banged up but thought I was okay.  

Until three days later, when I discovered (at work) that I was having trouble breathing. My wife whisked me off to the hospital emergency room. Anticipating a long wait until they checked me out and sent me home, I grabbed Stone Crossings to keep me occupied. I ended up staying overnight; I had four broken ribs and a partially collapsed lung. 


To continue reading, please see my post today at Tweetspeak Poetry.


Some Thursday Readings

 

A Review of The Great Game by Amit Majmuder – Maryann Corbett at New Verse Review.

 

It Wasn’t Her Gall Bladder – poem by Jared Wilson at Frivolous Quill.

 

“Bread and Wine,” poem by Countee Cullen – Joseph Bottum at Poems Ancient and Modern.

 

Anything is Possible – Kelly Belmonte at Kelly’s Scribbles.

 

“A New Arrival,” poem by George Washington Cable – Sally Thomas at Poems Ancient and Modern.

Tuesday, August 29, 2017

Of Color, Beauty, the Alphabet, and Fun: “A is for Azure”


How do you describe a book about color?

Saying “it’s colorful” seems slightly redundant and more than slightly unhelpful.

How do you describe a book about color and the alphabet?

If I say, “It’s appealing and interesting,” that doesn’t quite tell you anything. It’s like saying a poetry collection is “luminous” or “breathtaking.”

How do you describe a book that is about color and the alphabet and may also help with literacy programs, or simply help teaching children to read?

I know how I would describe that book.

Something wonderful.


To continue reading, please see my post today at Tweetspeak Poetry.

Thursday, March 24, 2016

Drowning in chocolate


Someone said it was like water
for chocolate, but I didn’t know
of they meant thick water or
thin chocolate, or haps
think chocolate because
there’s always room
for chocolate, especially that
of the dark variety, but milk
will do in a pinch, and white,
well, white chocolate is
a misnomer, I mean, it’s not
even real chocolate, more like
butter with a chocolate texture
but not a chocolate taste.

“Help me! Help me! I’m drowning”
said the wicked witch who
might have survived but
she wasn’t drowning in chocolate.

But we are, in fact, drowning
in chocolate, because we’re
drowning in poetry, and
chocolate is like a poem, no?
It’s a break, a relief, a respite,
a distraction, a hobby, a fixation,
a focus, a passion, an addiction
the world simply must have
or else the world cannot function.
The world could never function
without its chocolate,
without its poetry,
no matter who is running
for President.

Chocolate isn’t like
an election, but that’s
another story.

Over at BuzzFeed, L.L. Barkat has an article on five daring ways to celebrate National Poetry Month in April. One of them is to eat chocolate.


Photograph by Bob Williams via Public Domain Pictures. Used with permission.

Monday, August 31, 2015

The High Calling: A Path Paved with Poetry


Today marks the end of The High Calling as an ongoing web site focused on work and faith.

My personal path to The High Calling was paved with poetry.

In the summer of 2009, I was having a conversation on Twitter with two people I had never met face-to-face. One was Jim Wood, who had a blog called Shrinking the Camel (now a Patheos/High Calling blog) and wrote on faith and work. The other was L.L. Barkat, who had a blog (or two, perhaps three) called Seedlings in Stone and was the managing editor of a web site I had just begun to visit, called High Calling Blogs (HCB).

We were talking about making sandwiches, wine, poetry, and a movie called Bottle Crazy. Within a few minutes, I composed a short poem encompassing all of those elements within the character count of one tweet. We laughed, but something had changed. An awareness, perhaps a bond, had formed with a poetic tweet that connected us.

Later that summer, I was in a bike crash and spent the night in a hospital so the doctors could watch my four broken ribs and partially collapsed lung. Unable to sleep with an oxygen mask on my face, I read Laura’s Stone Crossings: Finding Grace in Hard and Hidden Places straight through. It was rare for a book to speak directly, almost personally, to me, but that one did.

Eventually, I screwed up enough courage to start participating in the HCB poetry prompts. I started writing occasional articles. And then L.L. asked me (and Jim Wood, too), to be contributing writers. I made my first trip to Laity Lodge in the fall of 2010 – joining the rest of the “virtual” staff at the writer’s conference. I attended the poetry seminar, and so The High Calling, Laity Lodge and poetry came to be even more bound together in my mind.

In 2012, I became the Twitter editor and discovered The High Calling network, comprised of all of the people who had signed up with The High Calling and had an official network entry on the site.

I went exploring and realized The High Calling’s reach expanded beyond the site and beyond the virtual staff I had come to appreciate and love. It expanded beyond the office in Kerrville and that almost sacred place called Laity Lodge.

I discovered poetry in the network—not actual poetry and poems, although there was some of that, but poetry in the much broader sense of God’s people. To discover this network was, at times, to be overwhelmed by faith. A significant portion of the Bible is written in poetic form, and perhaps for that reason I find a strong connection between poetry and faith.

So, on behalf of The High Calling, I tweeted this network of God’s people, using Twitter to promote the links for their articles and personal blog posts. To tweet all network members all the time would have taken a staff of several people. But I tried.

Who is, or was, the High Calling network? Diana Trautwein. Lisha Epperson. Brock Henning. The Center for Faith and Work. Mari-Anna Stalnacke. Ed Cyzewski. Billy Coffey. Jen Sandbulte. The Theology Work Project. 4 Word Women. Jolene Underwood. Lynn Mosher. Zechariah Newman. Megan Willome. Linda Chontos. Jen Avellaneda. Maureen Doallas. Chris Peek. John Blase. Tanya Marlow.

And hundreds and hundreds more. My RSS reader overflowed with the blog postings of the network. I had to develop a second list of blogs to visit.

I read people who struggled and celebrated. People who hurt. People doubting their faith. People overcoming their doubts. People with seminary degrees. People with a high school education. Single people. People struggling to have children. People struggling to manage families. People who had published books, and people trying to publish books. People with addictions.

I read people who mourned the deaths of loved ones, and one way they had to deal with it was to write. I read people who laughed. I read people who suffered debilitating illnesses, and some who were dying. People who supported the right to bear arms and people who ardently believed in gun control. Political liberals, conservatives, moderates, and independents.

I read the incredible diversity that is God’s church. And I found poetry everywhere I looked, the poetry of faith, the poetry that is faith.

And I learned that, for all of our differences, for all of our politics and denominations, for all of our hopes and dreams and occasional nightmares, we are one in Christ Jesus.

Like all other human endeavors, The High Calling may pass, but that unity will always be.





Photos: Various pictures of The High Calling staff activities during the past five years, all taken at Laity Lodge in the Texas Hill Country.