Like this one

I still don't fully understand, or embrace, the concept of prose poems—I mean, you're giving up the loveliness of end words—but I do so enjoy today's poem on Poetry Daily.

My Friday adventure: Annadama bread

The story goes, I'm told, that a colonial wife was baking bread and decided to throw some of the leftover cornmeal mush into the batter, and her husband said, "Anna, damn her."

I don't know why. It sounds good to me.

Today, I was low on whole wheat flour, so I through in some cornmeal and some unbleached white flour, plus a little molasses.

It isn't the lightest bread ever, but it's sweet a little crunchy at the crust.

1 1/2 cups milk (I used nonfat.)

3 T. butter

1/4 cup molasses

1/4 cup honey

1 1/2 t. salt

1. pkg. yeast

1 1/4 cup whole wheat flour

1 cup cornmeal

1 cup unbleached white flour

Heat the milk and melt the butter, molasses, and honey in it. Pour it into a bowl and cool it slightly. Mix in the yeast. Add the whole wheat flour, cornmeal, and salt, then stir in the white flour.

Cover the bowl, and let the dough rise for 2 hours. (It won't look like much has happened, but don't worry.)

Butter a loaf pan. Pull out the dough, and fold the edges down four times, rotating between each. Shape it into a loaf shape, and place it in the pan. Turn the oven on to 350 degrees, and let the dough rest for about 40 minutes.

Heat up some water to boiling. Put the bread in the oven and the water in a broiler pan or a pie pan on another rack in the oven. Bake for about 50 minutes, or until the bread sounds hollow when you knock on it.

(Okay, I've never been sure about that last knocking bit, but that's what they say...)

Count to 10: Barrow Street

I've been reading Barrow Street's 10th Anniversary Issue, and it's been an inspiring journey.

I wanted to link to some poems, especially Nicole Cooley's "Milk" and Tom Daley's "Yes You May," but I wasn't able to find them online. These are poems that I read and think, "Damn, I wish I'd written that." These are poems I can learn—something—from.

It's an indulgent—in the best way—beginning to the New Year (and anything that helps us through January is a blessing).

Hot tip on a new poetry book

Over on Blue Positive, Martha posts an inspiring write-up of Come Together: Imagine Peace, a new anthology of poems published by Bottom Dog Press. The Ferlinghetti especially got to me this morning. I ordered my copy right away—before the gym, before breakfast.

Check it out!

Chap or Full?

As the deadlines approach, I've been asking myself this. In February, both Floating Bridge Press and Tupelo Press have deadlines for their chapbook contest. (If you know of others, can you pass that information along?)

My current manuscript began as a chapbook. It then evolved into a full-length project. I've come to think of it as a full-length project. But I keep wondering whether I should limit those early poems within the context of a larger book, or whether I should send them out on their own.

I keep imagining Lorna Dee Cervantes asking, "What's at stake?" She posed that question when asking about poems during last year's LitFuse master class. But I think it's a valid question for a group of poems: What's at stake? Why did I write them? Is it more important to get them out into the world, or to have a full-length book?

Well, when you put it that way...

And then here I am, again, questioning why I fuss so much. Entering a contest is a far, far cry from winning and publication.

So I think I've convinced myself. But I wonder: Do you ever encounter this question? What do you say?

I love the way the snow cloaks the thin branches of the birch across the alley.

This is your brain on...

In Brain Rules, John Medina talks about how the brain works in terms of learning and remembering. It's fascinating the way the brain routes information, separates and re-aggregates it, codes and decodes it, fills in the blanks, and works with split-second timing. (In my case, perhaps split-minute—and if you were at that dinner, you know what I mean.)

Medina explains how exercise can help you think better, how sleep can help you retain the information that you've learned, how using an emotional hook in your presentation can help keep your audience's attention, and how multisensory presentations can help your audience learn.

The book is geared toward learning and retaining what you've learned in the context of academics and business.

My question: What are the brain rules for creativity? If the brain works in certain ways to learn and remember, how does it work when developing or synthesizing new ideas?

Is the creative process, specifically from the brain's perspective, the same for a painter as for a nuclear physicist? Or the business manager trying to come up with a new solution (as opposed to remembering the details of someone else's)?

And are there additional ways that we can enhance that brain work? I'm betting that exercise and sleep still apply, but can we do other things to prepare the brain to create?

Can we help get our head into the creative zone?

Could that be Medina's next book?