On boots and bars and motorbikes...

I found this proof cover of the 2018 Havik anthology about midday Saturday, May 19, at roughly the same time the faculty and staff were hosting a party for the new book at Las Positas College in California. I rather hoped I would've seen more photos from the event, but from the looks of it they came right down to the wire of getting this thing put together. I've attached another picture at the foot of this post that goes over the general basics of the publication this year. If my imaginings are anywhere close, this must be one hefty volume. A total of 122 contributors from six continents. I'm rather amazed my piddling contributions got anyplace near it. At least that's what I thought, anyhow. In fact, I wrote the whole thing, tongue in cheek, more as a spoof of a poem rather than an actual submission. Of course, I banged this one out on one of those days I got like 14 rejections in one day. I wrote this snarky as hell, and submitted it thinking it could

A printer's proof of the cover art of the anthology that will feature my two poems along with the works of 120 writers from all over the world, apparently. I had no idea there were that many sub- missions. I'm rather shocked my works survived the cut. Gotta say, the more I learned about the numbers for this anthology, the more surprised I am that I'm writing this now, especially for my poetic works. Now this particular poem is another one of those poetry writing workshops pieces I crafted in late 2016, not long after reading William Carlos Williams' Spring and All and crafting a 30-page  chapbook for my actual writing assignment, following weekend trip with my dad and his wife and my future bride to Georgetown for my cousin's wedding. We stayed in a lovely B&B, across the street from Southwestern University, and had a grand time at their nuptial party in beautifully rustic surroundings on the outskirts of town. Of all those 30 pages, m

This next poem made several rounds through the submissions process before someone finally picked it up. It was written on Sept. 2, 2016, as part of a poetry writing workshop I took as part of creative writing class in my MFA program. I was beginning to think it would never get published. As far as poetic works went, I always thought it one of my better offerings. But what did I know? I believe I said already that I didn't consider myself much of a poet. This once was proof positive I didn't have a clue, on many fronts, I suppose. If nothing else, it was definitely the most personal for me, at very least. I wrote about what I was experiencing at that very moment, which, in fact, was said birthday. I had no place to even leave a message, considering how everything worked out at the time.  I'm glad it finally found a home... And now, a few words on fatherhood in a modern age: MY LITTLE GIRL by Bobby Horecka © May 3, 2018 my little girl turned 21

Unless math fails me, they ought to be turning eighty-five this year. But this video and a book I wrote are a couple of items we put together and worked like madmen to get published largely during the month of September. W e somehow managed to pull it off while getting our regularly scheduled publications out the door and spending a full week on the road while covering the Hurricane Ike when it tore through East Texas and left half the state in darkness. Nothing like deadlines bearing down to see what people are made of. The book  was roughly a 100-page pictorial history of the organization, which made use of several great historical photos in combination with several more modern shots. As such, roughly of the third of the photos used were my own. The color scheme, theme and many of the quotations by current and past leaders were shared between the book and the video. Although the book itself didn't garner any accolades by itself, one of my photos did. A single sho

This poem actually broke the drought for me, publication-wise, the thing that got me beyond a big pile of rejections and officially back into print for the first time in nearly a decade. It still shocks me that the first thing that gets me in print was a poem. I'm hardly a poet. I don't think so, anyway. I honestly don't get it most days, to tell the truth. I like poetry, but if I listen to a bunch of poets sit around discussing what they like about a poem or collection, it bears no resemblance whatsoever as to why I liked it. I wrote this after being up way too long during one of my book writing sessions earlier this year, and finding myself totally incapable of spelling what should have been a simple word, I thought--discombobulated--I apparently missed it so bad, spell check couldn't even lend a hand, which got me right irate. I hopped on Google and searched "words that start with dis." How many could there possibly be, right? Answer: Based o

Bluestem Literary Magazine, May 2018 is now live, Complete and UNCUT !!!!   You can even hear audio by Outlaw Extraordinaire Bobby Horecka . Mr. Man Candy by BOBBY HORECKA I always take him with a few grains of salt.  Not too much.  I mean, dude’s always been on the rotund side, and he’s got a heart condition, for Christ’s sake.  But don’t take everything he tells you at face value.  You just can’t.  Don’t get me wrong: I love Bubba to death.  Known him for almost ten years now.  Together, we’ve caught rivers of fish, travelled the world, and even started our own construction business.  He’s the type of dude you don’t mind loaning money, the sort of fellow you toss your housekeys and ask to feed your dog while you’re away, and he’s absolutely the type of dude you want at your back in a barfight.  Still, when he called me one day and said he spent the afternoon on his front porch with a Playboy Bunny, I said the first thing that came to mind. “Bullshit,” with th

Your favorite outlaw and UHV President Vic Morgan on Friday, April 27. Sometimes you can just look at a dude and tell by the pale pitiful sight of him, he needs a lot more handlebar time than he's been putting in. This picture is proof positive for not just one fellow, but two... And sadly, the elder will probably beat the younger to the punch... UHV president and fellow biker Vic Morgan shook a lot of hands Friday night at the university's ring ceremony event held Friday, April 27, one of many such long, drawn-out events I'm sure he's looking forward to NOT having to do any more once he retires this year. And if the pale, pallid complexions on these two is any indicator, it is none too soon. A few hours of watching life go by on two wheels needs to be in the game plan for both of them. And soon. Something a lot of folks my not know about Dr. Morgan is that in addition to captaining the UHV ship through unprecedented expansions in student numbers and facilitie