Reading aedwardwatkins.wordpress.com provoked a verse response.
re: “cep c9” (Jan. 15 )
(Second poem of yours I’ve read.)
Still seems like a nut to crack.
Provides a rhythm read out loud.
Iambic pentameter coming back?
re: “yemo17” (Jan. 11)
Hurried search.
Unrelated words.
I laugh.
See a pattern.
Admire.
(Reblog) I’m struck by the power of erroneous choices’s metaphors: “Some days the insanity and dark caves of childhood come up to the surface to suffocate me.”
Some days the insanity and dark caves of childhood come up to the surface to suffocate me. But my bones are getting tired of that ache and so instead I place you on the tip of my tongue while I wait to swallow. I’ve thought of praying for another chance but honestly, the universe chooses whos worthy […]
Incurable
I’m struck by the power of erroneous choices’s metaphors, moving from dark experience through struggle and determination. The first three lines of poetry could stand as a poem in themselves:
My longing is hard
and pieced together
with poets blood and sacred silence
These could have been written by a famous poet, such as… [I was thinking of Gerard Manley Hopkins, but he’s more drawn-out, complex. Maybe Emily Dickinson. But “Mistaken Choices” has her own distinctive voice.]
The writer’s final hope is to be made, “…a beautiful unexpected work of art,” “poeted” by the unknown Writer.
I seldom think about writing; time is used up with all the little distractions. Clutter would be the better word. Social media would be big, and TV. Simplifying would probably make prioritizing easier.
Yesterday a friend said, teasing, she didn’t like people who were always sweet–“like me.” They seemed too good to be true. It reminded me that when I was a second-year nature guide at a summer camp the college counselors called me Smilin’ Jack.
Following the crazy posts of some facebook friends today led me to a blog about Dr Pepper imitators. To comment on the blog posts you have to sign up, so here I am.
It’s a good excuse to do the writing I’ve thought about but haven’t gotten around to. If I don’t lose my nerve I’m going to post some reflections about having prostate cancer. It’s a way of calming my own anxieties and keeping some perspective.
Be forewarned, if you give me some encouragement you might be referenced here–not by name; ‘the names will be (omitted) to protect the innocent’. It’s all a way of bolstering myself in a surprisingly vulnerable time.
Smilin’ Jack
Smilinations 