tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-56739472024-03-18T20:41:46.378-07:00Shann Palmer saysshann talks about stuff like poetry, man.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14067576860660881139noreply@blogger.comBlogger723125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5673947.post-51311703001701080402014-05-12T06:15:00.000-07:002014-05-12T06:15:09.533-07:00Great ThanksThank you all for your continuing support! The concert yesterday was beautiful and had great attendance! The best thing someone whispered to me was "it would've been better organized if your mom was here"
For you writers still following, there's a great opportunity happening this summer-
My mother loved going to this workshop and always came home with more books than she wanted to carry up and Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14067576860660881139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5673947.post-70469336345796656242014-04-20T09:15:00.000-07:002014-04-20T09:15:38.105-07:00VIRGINIA BENEFIT CHORALE MOTHERS DAY CONCERT
The Virginia Benefit Chorale, in cooperation with Grace Episcopal Church, Goochland, is giving a community concert to honor the life and works of Shann Palmer, poet and author of books, who was Sharon Radabaugh in most other walks of life. Sharon was a soprano in the Virginia Benefit Chorale, and was the organist and Choirmaster at Grace Episcopal Church.
The concert featuring Chorus and Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14067576860660881139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5673947.post-73060964412187824772014-04-10T10:37:00.000-07:002014-04-10T10:41:15.607-07:00Mark your calendars!The Virginia Benefit Chorale will be performing a community concert on May 11th at 4pm to honor the life and works of Shann Palmer.
The performance will be held at Grace Episcopal Church: 2955 River road, Goochland, Virginia. There is no cover charge, but donations are very welcome.
If you would like to participate, donate, or have any questions, don't hesitate to email the director Steve DavisAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14067576860660881139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5673947.post-41740009104281118022014-01-23T20:40:00.000-08:002014-01-26T14:59:34.692-08:00Always HungryHi folks,
I posted this picture on Shann's facebook yesterday.
I remember her stories about being terribly poor as a kid- her father calling the kids to scrounge the 7-11 parking lot to gather lost change. There was a great time when she went out to some restaurant with her ex-husband and others and ordered goulash, which she assumed was her father's amalgamation of macaroni, hot dogs, and Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14067576860660881139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5673947.post-15821533265039673432014-01-09T04:37:00.000-08:002014-01-09T04:37:04.610-08:00ChangeHello folks,
Change is temporarily out of stock. We plan to at least restock, but we're hoping to go bigger in 2014.
To those who have not yet received your orders, they will be sent out today. Thank you for bearing with me!
I'm still finding chapbooks scattered all over... some without covers.
The Poems in a Bag series is in abundance, in the meantime.
Finally, to tide you all over:
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14067576860660881139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5673947.post-90229686950213767042014-01-05T15:29:00.001-08:002014-01-05T15:29:19.906-08:00EULOGY FOR SHANN PALMER(read during her service today, 01/05/2014)
I know to some it might be a bit crass to say this, but I think if this sudden and tragic turn of events could have a headline attached, Poet Crushed by Two Tons of Irony would work. Between the near take-off of her American Housewife Haiku, an optimistic prognosis leading us to believe here is the last place we would end up, and then a possible Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14067576860660881139noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5673947.post-21701733154114961462014-01-03T22:22:00.001-08:002014-01-03T22:22:34.498-08:00Memorial Reminder/ History IlluminatedA reminder to all those who wish to know- Shann's memorial service will be held at Grace Episcopal Church in Goochland, VA on Sunday at 2pm. It will be followed by a potluck reception and entertainment, including a short Broadway singalong (as she used to do in times passed in several places).
Today, January 4th, would be her 64th birthday. She died a day before her mother, 28 years later. UntilAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14067576860660881139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5673947.post-68882091097879401632014-01-02T02:36:00.001-08:002014-01-02T02:50:10.342-08:00Going Through Mom's Old ClothesThe milk Paul bought Dad to join some nice eclairs had spoiled... I had realized after I had already made a trip to the store. The cornbread needed eggs. It needed milk, too, as an afterthought. What next? Lamp? Thermos?
"You can't keep milk on the bottom shelf," I sort-of wagged my finger at my father. "It's too warm there, it'll spoil faster." as if talking to air.
I dig through more folders Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14067576860660881139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5673947.post-4645440027077924232013-12-30T15:14:00.000-08:002013-12-30T15:14:14.330-08:00First Friday at the VMFA
It's come to my attention that this month's Spoken Word series will be dedicated to Shann! If you're feeling lonesome this Friday, treat your ears to my mother's favorite thing- LIVE POETRY!
(from Patricia Jagoda)
Please join us for First Friday on January 3. Our evening of Four Poets Reading will be dedicated to Shann Palmer, a great friend of the museum, Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14067576860660881139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5673947.post-47327400600742188002013-12-29T10:01:00.000-08:002014-01-02T02:37:12.674-08:00For SueShe told me:
You were both teachers (I forget where) in the late seventies. She saw you in the smoke-filled teachers' lounge hemming your skirt with a stapler. That's when she knew you'd be close friends.
You had kids at the same time, and I still remember the picture of you and Steve before you were married.
Her least proud moment was something about leaving a jacket in the back of a van, and Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14067576860660881139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5673947.post-46591078277811956902013-12-28T17:05:00.000-08:002013-12-28T17:05:25.036-08:00American Housewife Haiku #271, #272 and #273 and an anecdote...From a page in her November notebook:
Two cars and a bus
pass through the toll booth ahead
Is there a punch line?
It doesn't matter
if you're coming or going,
you still have to move.
It doesn't matter
If you think you want to stay,
nothing here will last.
...
My mother's legs must be tired, what with all the running around she's been doing in my mind, and I know mine isn't the only one Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14067576860660881139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5673947.post-9790617199174584202013-12-25T07:38:00.000-08:002013-12-25T08:13:01.807-08:00Blue ChristmasShann Palmer's memorial service will be at Grace Episcopal in Goochland, VA on the 5th of January at 2pm. There will be a telecast service in the perish hall, followed by a large reception. Potluck dishes are appreciated but not mandatory. There will not be a creepy casket.
Yesterday my brother and I sang for the two Christmas Eve services at Grace. He hadn't been in a long time, but IAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14067576860660881139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5673947.post-12077906026798055362013-12-23T05:31:00.002-08:002013-12-23T05:31:44.634-08:00Initial it with Loving Care
Shann Palmer, aka Sharon Radabaugh left us on a 70 degree day in December. The skies opened up the day after her death and haven't relented, God's crocodile tears making any outdoor Christmas pageants postponed or cancelled. She never was huge on Christmas- the tree was a chore every year, though she would decorate. This year, she was excited because she found a great (tacky) Mary Engelbreit Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14067576860660881139noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5673947.post-78757543214260817692013-12-11T00:54:00.000-08:002013-12-11T00:54:35.484-08:00Advent 2 - 2 Waiting
She waits
She waits for the car to warm up
She waits to turn onto Staples Mill
She waits for the Parham light
She waits for the school bus
She waits for a parking space
She waits to open her car door
She waits for a sample
She waits to check out
She waits at the drive thru
She waits at the gas pumps
She waits for her husband to get home
She waits for the oven to heat
She waits for the Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14067576860660881139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5673947.post-40711709252083125302013-12-08T23:52:00.003-08:002013-12-09T02:47:15.926-08:00Advent 2-1 Yes
The Miracle of Yes
Improvisors learn this quickly:
to say No stops all forward motion.
Let me restate: after you say No
the sun ceases spinning and the universe
tumbles in on itself in the sound of a snap.
We are born wanting to be unborn,
toddlers who nuzzle our mothers neck
to avoid strangers, No gives us power,
autonomy, we refuse the sippy cup,
unaware this is the other side of Yes.
Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14067576860660881139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5673947.post-13167461455044297542013-12-08T15:07:00.002-08:002013-12-08T15:16:27.132-08:00Advent 1-7 Compassion
I have been desensitized
My interest in your trouble wanes
watching doe-eyed children, sad animals,
all victims of wars and man-made insults.
Last night an entire half an hour devoted
to "so many babies born with cleft palate
we can’t possibly help them all"!
The need is greater than I can grasp.
My own sister lives in a mess in Nevada,
I can’t help even one of you, much less her,
Sixty Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14067576860660881139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5673947.post-13215377771278086362013-12-06T01:05:00.003-08:002013-12-06T01:35:41.954-08:00Advent 1-6 ListenA Loud and Persistent Silence
Sometimes, she hears the ocean’s roar
when she cups her palms over her ears.
It’s not acoustics, but a coppery river
under pressure, her own blood.
Particularly present tonight, she waits.
Breathing in, then out in meditation.
She prays for clarification, wisdom,
determined to rescue a meaning.
There is no way to separate God’s voice
from the relentless roar Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14067576860660881139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5673947.post-19663794010425942562013-12-05T19:54:00.002-08:002013-12-05T19:54:27.951-08:00Advent 1-5 DesireListen
I would drown in desire for you,
heart out of rhythm, fingers splayed
against the rough sheets on this bed,
our bed, what was our bed, our bed.
If want is a sacrament, I am priest,
postulant, a pilgrim fallen on the road.
Not yet dawn, I am awake for good
though none will come of it today.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14067576860660881139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5673947.post-13200302866894710392013-12-04T01:39:00.001-08:002013-12-04T01:39:15.506-08:00Advent 1-4 SalvationThere but for fortune
Alice lives somewhere in East Phoenix
alone now that kids have flown and Roy died.
She still works in a diner serving apple pie,
snappy comebacks and the occasional song.
Retirement made her buggy, so she covers
the lunch shift or whatever fill-in comes up.
Every dime of every tip goes in the bank
for her kids. Social security takes up the rest.
There was a time, Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14067576860660881139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5673947.post-20496262187524172912013-12-03T19:58:00.003-08:002013-12-04T01:54:10.833-08:00Advent 1-3 PreparationThe future was wide open
I had all day to get writing, find direction,
then I forgot the prompt and thought
"procrastination". I began the afternoon
riffing on how I have been late everywhere
for everything since my premature birth.
Thinking that word didn’t sound correct
I ticked through the list of possible "p’s":
practice, popularity, positronic- that one’s silly
but sans computer I had noAnonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14067576860660881139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5673947.post-78876264674734066632013-12-02T02:10:00.003-08:002013-12-02T02:10:49.171-08:00Advent 1-2 WonderAdvent 1-2
Wonder
I am amazed my heart pumps so sure,
my tongue tastes bitter and sweet,
and your back is warm against mine.
I am in awe of the connections made
in conversation, how the room listens,
the way you turn to catch me unaware.
If this is a love poem, I am joyful it came
ready-made before dawn as cold as it is
outside, nestled in my comfortable chair.
There is no Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14067576860660881139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5673947.post-5965431430342104362013-12-01T13:39:00.000-08:002013-12-01T13:56:32.910-08:00Advent 1-1 WaitThe Waiting is the Hardest Part
I knew what was under the tree for me.
I picked it out, chosen months ago.
You took my very specific one-item list,
bought exactly what was written there.
It's been this way for more than thirty years.
I can always count on you, completely.
I'm waiting for an avalanche, a BOOM!
the inevitable violent release of built-up pressure
fomented by the Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14067576860660881139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5673947.post-43838918998192787382013-11-30T14:56:00.002-08:002013-12-03T22:02:16.983-08:00NAPOMO November 2013 The Last Day # 30American Housewife Haiku #30 (disappearing)
There were just enough
words to finish her last thought:
Thank you, it's been fun.
And with this left behind- the month of Haiku will vanish from the pages, to be parceled out and put in a book, or something.
Thanks for reading! Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14067576860660881139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5673947.post-91059526928310611152013-11-29T17:20:00.001-08:002013-11-29T17:21:55.687-08:00NAPOMO Novenber 2014 #27, #28, #29American Housewife Haiku # 29 (a commercial)
No one has enough
of whatever you’re selling.
Can I write a check?
American Housewife Haiku # 28 (a bird)
Blue Jays tap, tap, tap
on an upturned trash can lid.
Ice-covered bird bath.
American Housewife Haiku # 27 (a place)
That night in Paris,
Texas when I wore earbobs,
left on the night stand.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14067576860660881139noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-5673947.post-8893230005262444432013-11-27T00:24:00.001-08:002013-11-27T00:24:22.118-08:00NAPOMO November 2013 # 26American Housewife Haiku # 26 (free____)
You’re free to forget
my hand against your shoulder
Lost in the circus.Anonymoushttp://www.blogger.com/profile/14067576860660881139noreply@blogger.com0