<$BlogRSDUrl$>

Saturday, July 19, 2003

:: Poetics in advertising ::

__Bond no. 9__
N E W Y O R K

a New York scent {?}
~ Chelsea Flowers~
~~(among others)~~
is now available for your sniffing
~~~pleasure at:~~~

Bond on Bond, (at Lafayette)
........Bond on Mad I, (72nd Street)
...............Bond on Mad II, (61st Street)

Anyone presently in New York who is near
one of these locations, take a sniff and
let us know if Chelsea Flowers is ~for real~

Friday, July 18, 2003

Maybe Stephanie has a point, I had been comfortable
with the veneered look. This blog has a raw feeling,
maybe that's okay... maybe I should not rush into
changing it...as for Kasey, the Librarians wanted to
shoot me after I read the bourbon-shotgun comment.
...I'll hang in the white for a while & see where it goes.
At the moment< >I am turned off to reading myself-
..................... I'll have to make those color changes
................................................................soon.
A word about the 'light print on dark'
that Kasey advises against... I preferred that
look for Abolone and feel completely anemic
without it... I'll agree with you, some blog styles
are easier to read, ie. your new format is
harder for my eye to adjust to (I don't know
why), reading lengthy prose on a computer
screen seems more inviting on the color
background &/or with a tighter font.

Frivolous as it sounds, I'd spend more time
reading someone's material if the environment/
presentation were eye friendly.
Leaves
__________To Elizabeth Bishop


It echoed three times: the leaves are down
____________________the leaves are down
______________________the leaves are down
Leaving? What leaves?
They are scattered here and everywhere, the leaves
& someone left wanting; but understand, not the words.

The elm leaf looked dumb. It had a cleft thumb.
The maple had a crooked crown.
Both were awkward and unique, not exactly perfect,
stretched out, random.

A rose from yesterday jumped in view.
It was lovely yesterday, now her pinkness browning.
The rose is not obstinate to change.

Out of body, into beauty, back to body again,
no change; only the decision to tell a straight story
or obscure. Either way, pretty much the same.
Either way, go with the words.


THE NUDE LOOK - (unfinished) - I hope to
have some color back by the weekend...
I confess to being a computer idiot and
will learn to dither -thanks to Aimee-
My blissful ignorance had to end at some
point. Every time I'd go into my templates
I panicked codes, slashes, dashes etc
_________________________________
Thank you thoughtful people - you know
who you are - who encouraged me to
keep going.



Wednesday, July 16, 2003

Blogger Control - when you get a chance - tks
a white screen Abolone - try this @@@@
my templates just went blank-- please no
Back from camp pick-up,
what apostrophe?...
on to Target for birthday
gifts...& what ?????
So here we have the crazy lobster....
flaming flambe make the customers happy

Last thought on this yawn tedious
process: if the words I wrote back then
seem belabored, obvious, stale, trite
then throw them in the bonfire <+> goodbye

I must admit, my willingness to go over 'old'
material is small. I admire those writers here
in blogworld who continue to sift through and
post their previous works...I am trying ...
it's an exercise in broadening my focus &
regenerating useful things from the past.



Back to sorting old notebooks, loose songs, found books:
Octavio Paz Convergences, Elizabeth Bishop Voice of the Poet
(audio tape?)-booklet, Rilke The Notebooks M.L. Brigge
basement sounds: Discovery channel, teenager crunching
kettle potato chips {loud -on purpose}, going through
more stuff... coming up


sorting through, getting rid of, varied emotions
does nothing suppose a something
-----------------to fill it, give it footprints?

(not what makes my thoughts

but what makes my thoughts think...)

-Alec, Shimer College newsletter, Apr. 2003
... this ms goes in the trash, relief!
Going over a bad manuscript & reading the comments -
humbling and encouraging - determined to start over:
"You tend to use certain words over & over again."
"Resist the temptation to give your opinion." -hello
"What's at stake for your main character?"
"Use fewer adverbs."
"Confusing POVs."
"Dialogue is excellent, advances story." -thanks
"Avoid your judgments." -yes, I'd agree

? or the real in prose...
LET US NOW address the topic of sex.

[Thud, thud, thud]...

O K A Y , let's put it this way. I would like to sleep
with you. But it's all right if I don't sleep with you.
What I'm saying is, I'd like to be as fair as possible.
I don't want to force anything on anybody, any
more than I'd want anything forced on me. It's
enough that I feel your presence or see your
commas swirling around me.


-Haruki Murakami, from The Elephant Vanishes

Tuesday, July 15, 2003

:: Esteban Loaiza ::
a killer name, lead-off
pitcher for the All-Star
game Chicago, Illinois
2003 but listening to
Star-Spangled Banner
is as gallant as I can get,
GO Esteban!
The real poem?
Let me think
about how real
The real I make
must include
I love you darling
although all
metaphor is a
useless ordeal,
I can almost
feel pain in
the real poem

stanza II

True rhyme &
psychological
involvement &
invasion of the
senses, I can
almost feel in
the real poem

III

Bad vs Good poetry
reality showy trashy
shocking sad enlightened
amazing emotional glorious
popular select crisp far-out
influential augmented idyllic

IV

Striving for the real poem
may be a cop-out




Uniball

Waiting and beginning to find
my new aleve gel pen
"V" is a sleek letter grant one
The art of fine masquerade
forward "M"
on the caraVan of friendship <> super
Info
high
way

Spot any non-tagged deer
to help the on-going
sterilization project and for
Roots Rock Society
playing locally:
there Jessie's diamond tiara
Shines
upon
her
Flowing blonde
silk ponytail granted
nothing takes

Monday, July 14, 2003

Rocket-fire reporting from the west coast,
to name just a few: (& enjoying the wave!)
LimeTree
CorpsePoetics
Tympan
Well-Nourished Moon
listening to
Ali Farka Toure w/ Ry Cooder:
"Talking Timbuktu"
HG Poetics, I thank you for 7/13s
last entry re: The NYTimes Magazine
article...horrifying, a necessary read

Sunday, July 13, 2003

Fissure

Not as she shouts Papa
then laughs
She circles & romps, she blows a whistle

You take up
with mud
scum
is what
you attract

I wave
because I cannot
sever myself sorry;

apart
as death
wrung in the moment

Tired of the bow
& forbidden allowance
allow me the I, the calmer down

woman
listening to Portishead DUMMY revives
my response to last night's bad dream...
The Four Rabbinim

One night four Rabbinim were visited by an angel
who awakened them and carried them to the
Seventh vault of the Seventh Heaven. There
they beheld the sacred Wheel of Ezekiel...

Somewhere in the descent from
Pardes, Paradise,
to Earth, one Rabbi, having seen such splendor, lost
his mind and wandered frothing and foaming until the
end of his days. The second Rabbi was extremely cynical:
"Oh I just dreamed Ezekiel's [sacred] Wheel, that was
all. Nothing really happened." The third Rabbi carried
on and on about what he had seen, for he was totally
obsessed. He lectured and would not stop with how
it was all constructed and what it all meant... and in
this way he went astray and betrayed his faith. The
fourth Rabbi, who was a poet, took a paper in hand
and a reed and sat near the window writing song
after song praising the evening dove, his daughter
in her cradle, and all the stars in the sky. And he
lived his life better than before.


-from Women Who Run With the Wolves


This page is powered by Blogger. Isn't yours?