Arc of the Poet, Part 10: Good Poetry

I may never become famous as a result of a poem I’ve written. I reluctantly accepted that probability some time ago, but only after mounting great, concentrated efforts designed to place my poetry within well respected literary publications… most of which failed.

I’ve always been a sincere fan of my mother Lila Darnell’s direct, powerful and stylized creative writing. Through my high school and college educations, exchanges with many other colorful and smart friends and family members, and lifelong exposure to magazines, radio and cable TV broadcasts, I developed a pretty strong sense for good poetry, and where that odd form of writing fits into the world. In my early 20s, I was introduced to the works of Charles Bukowski, who appeared to me as a 360-degree representation of the life of a successful poet… and who wrote books I loved instantly, due to them being so human, approachable, funny, well written and good. Read more

Arc of the Poet, Part 9: Dear Departures

In the summer of 1993, I was very proud to be the husband of Beth Darnell, a homeowner in downtown Orlando, and a genuine communications industry professional making some headway as a writer, producer and photojournalist. My campaign efforts pitching my original creative entries into literary publications produced no other significant results, until one day a poem came back with this kind note (click for full-size) attached.

I could have wept. Here’s the poem it was attached to. Read more

Arc of the Poet, Part 4: Spinning Out

From the great poem East Coker written by “American born, English” poet T. S. Eliot:

Home is where one starts from. As we grow older
The world becomes stranger, the pattern more complicated
Of dead and living. Not the intense moment
Isolated, with no before and after,
But a lifetime burning in every moment
And not the lifetime of one man only
But of old stones that cannot be deciphered.

The freedom I enjoyed immediately after earning two bachelors degrees and completing my six-year Air Force Reserve commitment was wonderfully liberating, and my girlfriend Beth and I pressed ahead into our whirlwind adventures. My tiny backyard garage apartment in downtown Orlando became her home, too, over time, as we grew together. Meanwhile, facing our college debts, we both dedicated ourselves to earning paychecks. Read more

Arc of the Poet, Part 3: True Love

Thank you very much for your interest in my education and exploits as a poet over the past 20 years. With Arc of the Poet, I’m aiming to share the most interesting highlights and lowlights as briefly, and as colorfully, as possible.

Even before 1990 had officially begun, I recall feeling anxious for it to be over. It truly was an endurance test for me, involving one marathon ordeal after another. I turned 23 that year, with no fanfare, and I took that as a sign of maturity. I also persevered in seizing my military and college experiences with the best of my thoughts and abilities, which I saw as evidence of my growing strength and confidence. By the time it ended, 1990 gave me a great deal in return for all my efforts. Read more

Arc of the Poet, Part 2: Tour de Force

Between 1978 and 1989, I went from 12 to 23… from wondering about being a man to being one.

I have a short stack of decent poetic writings from those days, and as you’d expect, they are about things like love, friends and life’s big events, positive and otherwise. I moved each year of high school… from Greenville in Illinois my freshmen year (Scott’s sensational senior one), to Chattanooga, Tennessee, then Ft. Lauderdale, Florida. When her second marriage ended, Mom and I moved to Orlando for what was to be my senior year, and her career phase next. With so much moving, a lot of my writing was about what I believe T.S. Eliot called “melancholy.” As my studies continued, Read more

August 18, 2010: Riley, Six and a Half

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May 30, 2001: The Countdown Begins… Escape from LA, Part 1

Escape from LA
by Roger Darnell

Wednesday, May 30, 2001: The Countdown Begins

As I sat at my desk at the end of the business day (night) on Tuesday, I knew I really needed to get some sleep to be ready to start loading the truck bright and early the next morning; surveying my office, though — still largely intact — it finally also sunk-in to me that I needed to get it packed, once and for all. Fast forward to 7:30 a.m. Wednesday morning: I’d worked all the way through the night, the office was 98% done, the house was a scattered array of semi-packed boxes, furniture and closed boxes, all ready for the truck, and we were off to pick up the truck from Budget in Van Nuys on Sepulveda Blvd., the same place where we’d returned our truck from the 1998 move West. This truck was a little bigger — a sign that the move was a success? — and the car carrier, destined to transport our Honda Accord back across the country, may have been the same one we picked up from New Orleans on the previous trip. Beth had slept very little as well, so the recollection of truck-packing day is a little blurry. We were smart enough to request a couple of movers to come to our house at 9 to load the truck, and by 11, they were done. By 5 p.m., Read more

June 9, 1984: Dedication, from Mom

Throughout our lives, my brother and I have enjoyed the wealth of blessings that come from having a mother who is extremely nurturing, strong of heart, spirit and mind, and uniquely powerful as a communicator, mentor, friend and survivor. Today is her last day at work, where she is effectively graduating into retirement, and Scott and I are joined by many others in our extended family in feeling extremely proud and joyful, knowing how hard she has worked for such a long time to get to this moment in life, the epitomy of dedication, perseverance and responsibility. To give you a sense of her graceful ability to share touching words which have put our most precious life moments into profound perspective — which is something she’s done consistently throughout our lives — I’m sharing the letter she wrote for me on my high school graduation day, over 25 years ago.

Mom, you are such an inspiration, such a wonderful friend and guide. You are a blessing, in every sense of the word, and as you move into phase-next of your life, we wish you all the things you have wished for us, in spades. Enjoy!