Wednesday, November 25, 2009


Welcome friends! We of the Full Moon Poetry Society use this blog to display the 60 poems - we picked five per month - of the collection we made in 2008.
Because complete blogs read bottom-to-top, the December poems appear here first, and the blog "ends" with the January poems. In the published, physical, book, that order is reversed.

intro a

There was a time when poets would gather together to write, read and comment on each other’s poetry. These gatherings would take place during a full moon and would often include a favorite beverage, something to eat and a reflective body of water. It sounded like fun to me. No one has a lot of time these days to hang out together, so I thought maybe we could have our own electronic society of poets. In the light of day I thought better of it; who would be interested? In a weak moment I mentioned my idea to Deanna. Her eyes lit up and resembled two big harvest moons. I had a companion in poetry and the Full Moon Poetry Society was born.
Brian Howlett

intro b

The book you are holding is one of five. Completed in 2009, each is identical in content, and unique in its hand-painted art. The idea of the project was that anyone who wanted to participate would look at the full moon, write a poem, and submit it. Poems were then selected monthly throughout 2008 by a spontaneously convening panel of judges. The emphasis was on inclusion, risk, trust, spontaneity, and vitality. - Deanna Hopper

intro c

Thanks to: Pacific Zen Institute, and John Tarrant, Director, who provided a space and a culture in which it could occur; all of the poets who submitted; everyone who participated in monthly poem selection; our cadre of visual artists; Brian Howlett, teacher, Fuke Lineage, whose brainchild this is; Deanna Hopper, who managed, edited, etc; Jan Black, who made the books; Robert Weeks, and, especially, Jim Marcolina, who provided indispensable technical wizardry; and all the cooks, shoppers and bottle washers who fueled the judges at our raucous, (mostly respectful,) poetry-picking parties. Nine bows.