The Poeming Pigeon

This last weekend I travelled to the Portland, Oregon area to read my poem, “Oh Worm”.  The book launch took place at the Pond House, Ledding Library in Milwaukie, OR.

I took a bold step and when they asked for poets to read, I volunteered.   By doing so I was admitting to myself that I am a good poet.  Why else would they publish me?  Most of the time I talk myself out of the compliments and honours I get.   Silly, right?  There is a part of me deep down, a voice that nags,

“You are not good enough.  That’s not a quality literary journal.  Why else would they choose to publish you?”

I shut that voice up, volunteered to read and was accepted to read.

I travelled to Portland on Friday, staying with a friend in Beaverton.

The next morning I got a pedicure and haircut.

I walked into The Pond House, introduced myself and Shawn Aveningo exclaimed,

” I love your poem!”

Take that you nasty little voice in my head!

Later, when the introductions were going on, it was mentioned that there were over 600 poems submitted and only 91 were chosen.

BAM you filthy voice in my head!

I was the 2nd one to read and since this was my first reading of one of my poems as an adult I didn’t know how much to say as an introduction.  I went with nothing.  I just launched into it.  Since I do have theatre background I gave it my all.

I was so impressed and inspired by all the poems read. All I have wanted to do this last week is write.  Unfortunately, my job is a teacher and it is the last days of school.

Today I took the day for me! I have had all afternoon to write and it is glorious.

In the last 2 weeks, I have had 2 editors of literary magazines I have been published in asking me for more of my work.  I am honoured and “feel good”!  I am going to hold onto that feeling, especially when the critical bitch inside me tells me I’m no good.


the pond housepoemingpigeon


Published by: Basicallybarb

Barbara A Meier is a poet, teacher, and mother, trying to write her way out of Kansas, anxiety and depression. Instead of indulging in feeling like garbage, trash, or rubbish, she chooses to examine the debris of her life by writing poems about it. After all as a forgiven, child of God, simultaneously saint and sinner, she is loved and cherished by her God.

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