An open moment to eternity
Fastidious & attached as I am to so many tremendous moments
I live in the day Warhol predicted
An open heart mends wounds
Are you for or against
On their side or mine
Is it them or is it us
Or is there even any us anymore
Who is us anymore anyway
I don’t know
An open wound
A bleeding ulcer seeking to be healed
A headache that covers wide world news
& closer to home news too,
All news is bad news
Except the rescued puppy thrown in to control you
A news forecast makes everything worse –
See what happens if you ignore the news a week or two
Act like you’re on Pluto
Ignore my bleak forecast of doom
All of us doomed as we all are anyway
The more you do - the more gets done
When you stop doing there’s no more to do
Another open wound
Always the dream remains of
Another go-round
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Saturday, September 13, 2008
What? What you say?
I said to DubbleX & he fully agreed, "when there's nothing left to do I stop doing. I guess that's why I keep going - because I'm caught up in the struggle to maintain a life. If there's no going there's no life."
Friday, September 12, 2008
The History of DubbleX & I
Thing is we met we were at our lowest ebbs. We were both sad about many things. DubbleX had his sad things. I had mine. I’ll tell how we met.
We met at Louder Arts downtown. Honestly – I know this sounds conflicted because I’m a very friendly outgoing person, but it’s difficult to push myself out the door to go read anywhere. I had wanted to go to Louder Arts for so long it was now silly. That’s me – all bottled up in my fears & anxieties. You know writers. Mongo called me & invited me to gay night. I said OK.
Mongo and I met at Au bon Pain. He says, “You’re gonna love it.” I’m skittish, a new venue I’ve never been to before. Hell, I have the bear with me – a teddy bear so I’m safe. We’re seated and this big very tall brown-skinned dude with dreads stands to my left gazing at the seat on which parts of me and my belongings are spread. Being the friendly type I bustle my big ass over a few inches to make room for the big brown dude with dreads. I got my shit together and put it on my lap.
I caught him looking at me.
“Hey,” I said, “I’m Joy.”
“Is it your first time here, Joy?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said. “Mongo took me here tonight. I always wanted to come before but somehow I never got here.” Then I explained the whole gay theme poetry night as Mongo had explained it to me; that you first read a gay poet’s poem and then one of your own.
“Nobody ever talked to me this much here before,” he said.
“Oh…really,” I said.
“Why’s that?” I said, “You shy?”
“A little,” he said his eyes penetrating mine.
“I like your dreads,” I said flirtatiously.
“You do?” he said acting surprised.
"What?" I asked because he was staring at me so strangely.
“No one’s ever said that to me before.”
I was like where’s this dude been if he’s never run into anyone like me.
“They really look sweet. Can I touch them?”
He stared at me for a long time – his eyes holding mine. I felt him in the pit of my belly.
“You didn’t answer,” I said our eyes still holding.
“I …I,” he stammered, “No one’s ever asked me that before.”
“Oh … Really,” I said. I was touched - like - where’s this gem been hidden?
“OK,” I said. “So can I touch them or not because you still haven’t answered me. I’ve always wanted to touch dreads but never had the opportunity.”
“Sure,” he said, “If you wanna.”
“Wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want‘a,” I shot back, reaching over to touch his dreads while he bent his head slightly towards me to provide easy access.
I let my hands feel the coolness. I squeezed to feel the springiness. I held several coils in my hand. He looked at me through his dreads. I looked back. I closed my eyes for a moment to feel. I opened them. Dubblex was watching me through the lens of his glasses. I stared back smiling. We kept quiet mostly after the show began.
It was fun. I read one of Mongo’s poems. He gave me a few to choose from. Mongo’s poetry is cool. He has many styles. I read one of Mongo’s then one of mine. What’s most cool the about the Louder Arts thing is the rule. I particularly like it that no one is permitted to take up more time than allowed. I really appreciate that feature and find it very respectful to all the rest of us poets waiting our turns.
Afterwards Mongo, DubbleX and I were chatting. Mongo says he walks to his place from here and it’s not far. DubbleX and I are looking at each other because neither of us has said yet where we live.
I say, “I got a long trip uptown,”
“Probably not as far as me,” he challenged.
“Oh … really,” I said, “Where do you live?”
“Inwood,” he said. “Do you know where that is?”
Mongo laughed because he knows I’m from the Heights.
“I live up there,” I laughed too. “I need to take the #1. What do you take?
“I take the A usually but if you take the #1, I’d rather ride with you.” He said
Mongo and I looked at each other then bear-hugged.
DubbleX & I split Louder Arts & talked the entire walk/ride uptown. I handed him my card. it’s nice to partner up for readings. Sometimes people call, sometimes they don’t. It’s a sometimes world.
DubbleX called me the day after we met. I was out but my man at the time picked up the phone & gave me the message. DubbleX called the second day as well. I was home. He told me very personal things about himself and I immediately responded, “I’m a social worker with a lot of skills, let me help you.”
Don’t ask me to tell you what possessed me to say that. Suffice it to say that helping people is part of my nature & is the reason why I went to get my masters in social work in the first place. I had been doing it my entire life anyway.
I’ve reflected & written tons of poems about my life since before I met DubbleX & how things are now. Somehow it boiled down to me being hostage to my expectations. It’s all mixed up for me. To make a long story short, the two of us decided to take that leap and live & grow together.
DubbleX has managed to be more productive than ever before. He says his hair has never grown this fast before and attributes its fast growth to our relationship as he does his sudden productive artistic growth. Should I argue with genius?
Let me tell you – this has been one hell of a trip for both of us. Things have never been the same with either one of us since that day we met. Mongo says it’s his entire FAULT; he takes CREDIT it for it all!
We met at Louder Arts downtown. Honestly – I know this sounds conflicted because I’m a very friendly outgoing person, but it’s difficult to push myself out the door to go read anywhere. I had wanted to go to Louder Arts for so long it was now silly. That’s me – all bottled up in my fears & anxieties. You know writers. Mongo called me & invited me to gay night. I said OK.
Mongo and I met at Au bon Pain. He says, “You’re gonna love it.” I’m skittish, a new venue I’ve never been to before. Hell, I have the bear with me – a teddy bear so I’m safe. We’re seated and this big very tall brown-skinned dude with dreads stands to my left gazing at the seat on which parts of me and my belongings are spread. Being the friendly type I bustle my big ass over a few inches to make room for the big brown dude with dreads. I got my shit together and put it on my lap.
I caught him looking at me.
“Hey,” I said, “I’m Joy.”
“Is it your first time here, Joy?” he asked.
“Yes,” I said. “Mongo took me here tonight. I always wanted to come before but somehow I never got here.” Then I explained the whole gay theme poetry night as Mongo had explained it to me; that you first read a gay poet’s poem and then one of your own.
“Nobody ever talked to me this much here before,” he said.
“Oh…really,” I said.
“Why’s that?” I said, “You shy?”
“A little,” he said his eyes penetrating mine.
“I like your dreads,” I said flirtatiously.
“You do?” he said acting surprised.
"What?" I asked because he was staring at me so strangely.
“No one’s ever said that to me before.”
I was like where’s this dude been if he’s never run into anyone like me.
“They really look sweet. Can I touch them?”
He stared at me for a long time – his eyes holding mine. I felt him in the pit of my belly.
“You didn’t answer,” I said our eyes still holding.
“I …I,” he stammered, “No one’s ever asked me that before.”
“Oh … Really,” I said. I was touched - like - where’s this gem been hidden?
“OK,” I said. “So can I touch them or not because you still haven’t answered me. I’ve always wanted to touch dreads but never had the opportunity.”
“Sure,” he said, “If you wanna.”
“Wouldn’t have asked if I didn’t want‘a,” I shot back, reaching over to touch his dreads while he bent his head slightly towards me to provide easy access.
I let my hands feel the coolness. I squeezed to feel the springiness. I held several coils in my hand. He looked at me through his dreads. I looked back. I closed my eyes for a moment to feel. I opened them. Dubblex was watching me through the lens of his glasses. I stared back smiling. We kept quiet mostly after the show began.
It was fun. I read one of Mongo’s poems. He gave me a few to choose from. Mongo’s poetry is cool. He has many styles. I read one of Mongo’s then one of mine. What’s most cool the about the Louder Arts thing is the rule. I particularly like it that no one is permitted to take up more time than allowed. I really appreciate that feature and find it very respectful to all the rest of us poets waiting our turns.
Afterwards Mongo, DubbleX and I were chatting. Mongo says he walks to his place from here and it’s not far. DubbleX and I are looking at each other because neither of us has said yet where we live.
I say, “I got a long trip uptown,”
“Probably not as far as me,” he challenged.
“Oh … really,” I said, “Where do you live?”
“Inwood,” he said. “Do you know where that is?”
Mongo laughed because he knows I’m from the Heights.
“I live up there,” I laughed too. “I need to take the #1. What do you take?
“I take the A usually but if you take the #1, I’d rather ride with you.” He said
Mongo and I looked at each other then bear-hugged.
DubbleX & I split Louder Arts & talked the entire walk/ride uptown. I handed him my card. it’s nice to partner up for readings. Sometimes people call, sometimes they don’t. It’s a sometimes world.
DubbleX called me the day after we met. I was out but my man at the time picked up the phone & gave me the message. DubbleX called the second day as well. I was home. He told me very personal things about himself and I immediately responded, “I’m a social worker with a lot of skills, let me help you.”
Don’t ask me to tell you what possessed me to say that. Suffice it to say that helping people is part of my nature & is the reason why I went to get my masters in social work in the first place. I had been doing it my entire life anyway.
I’ve reflected & written tons of poems about my life since before I met DubbleX & how things are now. Somehow it boiled down to me being hostage to my expectations. It’s all mixed up for me. To make a long story short, the two of us decided to take that leap and live & grow together.
DubbleX has managed to be more productive than ever before. He says his hair has never grown this fast before and attributes its fast growth to our relationship as he does his sudden productive artistic growth. Should I argue with genius?
Let me tell you – this has been one hell of a trip for both of us. Things have never been the same with either one of us since that day we met. Mongo says it’s his entire FAULT; he takes CREDIT it for it all!
Monday, September 08, 2008
I rescued a baby pitbull today
Things have been a little rough the last week. Since last Tuesday I have been in terrific pain. I have acid reflux & hiatal hernia plus I've always had a very sensitive stomach. Put that together with eating tainted fruit and see what you come up with. I ate a container of fresh figs and a couple were molded. I threw those out. But you know how it is with fruit, if it's not clean... Yes, I did wash it but mold can travel through it. Because of that I pretty much laid up all week & cried from the pain. Friday I went to the doctor, but she had no clue. She gave me Aciphex which gave me a severe headache. I looked it up online and learned that headache is an allergic reaction to it. Today I saw the specialist who is going to do a colonoscopy and endoscopy at the same time in October. (Yuk) He gave me Prilosec which I tolerate better.
After I finished at the doctor, I picked up DubbleX at his job so we could go to the gym together. We went to the gym, did our workout, then drove home and parked the car in the lot on Tenth Avenue. On the way back to the apartment, we walked through Isham Park where you have to walk up hundreds of stairs. Partway up I heard a rustling in the bushes. I asked DubbleX to stop and hold my bag for me. I couldn't believe what I thought I saw. I went into the bushes and there was this gorgeous pit bull puppy about 3 months old. He was all white with big floppy ears and a long skinny tail. He had several black spots and inside the black spots were orange spots. The puppy was affectionate and sweet. I love pits whose tails & ears are intact. The poor thing seemed hungry in the bushes eating leaves and chewing on sticks, so I decided to let him chew on me instead.
I went and got him. A man stopped to talk to us and gave the baby a can of cat food which he gobbled up. The dog had a small collar and leash on. We walked down to Broadway, stupid me thinking his owner had lost him. He was a good dog and stopped to piddle along the way. The big dude seated in front of the bar rolling his stoogies said some guy walked up to him said "hey you want this dog for free?" and when he said no, the guy continued walking up and down the street asking several other folk if they wanted the dog. When no one took the baby, the guy just took him in the park and left him there.
I began calling dog people I know, but no one wanted the baby. One woman said maybe. She agreed to see the dog. As I walked towards her apartment to meet her, she called me back and said she changed her mind because her landlord wrote her a letter warning her that although he was sorry her dog died she better not get a new one. By that time I was in front of her building and she looked out the window to see the pup. She oohed and ahhed about his beauty while leaning out the window talking to me on the phone.
Some young girl came out of the building with her family. She got very interested in the pitbull & said her cousin was looking for a baby pit, because she already had a grown pit and wanted a companion for her. She called the woman and the woman came down to meet the dog. When the woman saw how beautiful and young the baby was (he sat and wagged his tail while she examined his teeth) she couldn't resist. Denise and I hugged and she told me about her other dog. Luckily for DubbleX and our three cats, Denise decided to take Mr. Gorgeous home after all.
After I finished at the doctor, I picked up DubbleX at his job so we could go to the gym together. We went to the gym, did our workout, then drove home and parked the car in the lot on Tenth Avenue. On the way back to the apartment, we walked through Isham Park where you have to walk up hundreds of stairs. Partway up I heard a rustling in the bushes. I asked DubbleX to stop and hold my bag for me. I couldn't believe what I thought I saw. I went into the bushes and there was this gorgeous pit bull puppy about 3 months old. He was all white with big floppy ears and a long skinny tail. He had several black spots and inside the black spots were orange spots. The puppy was affectionate and sweet. I love pits whose tails & ears are intact. The poor thing seemed hungry in the bushes eating leaves and chewing on sticks, so I decided to let him chew on me instead.
I went and got him. A man stopped to talk to us and gave the baby a can of cat food which he gobbled up. The dog had a small collar and leash on. We walked down to Broadway, stupid me thinking his owner had lost him. He was a good dog and stopped to piddle along the way. The big dude seated in front of the bar rolling his stoogies said some guy walked up to him said "hey you want this dog for free?" and when he said no, the guy continued walking up and down the street asking several other folk if they wanted the dog. When no one took the baby, the guy just took him in the park and left him there.
I began calling dog people I know, but no one wanted the baby. One woman said maybe. She agreed to see the dog. As I walked towards her apartment to meet her, she called me back and said she changed her mind because her landlord wrote her a letter warning her that although he was sorry her dog died she better not get a new one. By that time I was in front of her building and she looked out the window to see the pup. She oohed and ahhed about his beauty while leaning out the window talking to me on the phone.
Some young girl came out of the building with her family. She got very interested in the pitbull & said her cousin was looking for a baby pit, because she already had a grown pit and wanted a companion for her. She called the woman and the woman came down to meet the dog. When the woman saw how beautiful and young the baby was (he sat and wagged his tail while she examined his teeth) she couldn't resist. Denise and I hugged and she told me about her other dog. Luckily for DubbleX and our three cats, Denise decided to take Mr. Gorgeous home after all.
Wednesday, September 03, 2008
I AM ME I THINK I AM BECOME THE ME I WANT TO BE
I am a woman of great mind & desire blended with creativity
I am a woman who's survived much
And lives with my dreams
I am a blend of us all, although I may not be the part
you hold dearest to yourself
I am your wildest dreams & fantasy
I can be me or you or who you want me to be
I could be you and step inside your shoes too
I’d rather be me inside of me
Then you inside of yourself
I’ll do me & you do you
Then we’ll both do fine for ourselves
I am a woman who's survived much
And lives with my dreams
I am a blend of us all, although I may not be the part
you hold dearest to yourself
I am your wildest dreams & fantasy
I can be me or you or who you want me to be
I could be you and step inside your shoes too
I’d rather be me inside of me
Then you inside of yourself
I’ll do me & you do you
Then we’ll both do fine for ourselves
Sunday, August 31, 2008
No Contest but check Michael Moore preview: Election Guide 2009
I cried last night after I got over the shock of who McCain picked. I cried because I'm still not convinced that there's not some deeper underlying conspiracy theory here. I cried because I'm also still not convinced that Obama will really win. Of course he has my vote.
Yes, I know you've heard it all, but how do you explain it that the one president we had who was Catholic was killed? How do you explain that the Freemason symbol adorns our dollar bills and that every president we've had has been a member.
I cried because I read Michael Moore's Election Guide and saw the truth written there.
Hope is all I'm left with; that & the desire to create a better world to leave to our children tomorrow.
Yes, I know you've heard it all, but how do you explain it that the one president we had who was Catholic was killed? How do you explain that the Freemason symbol adorns our dollar bills and that every president we've had has been a member.
I cried because I read Michael Moore's Election Guide and saw the truth written there.
The Democrats appear to be professional losers. They are so pathetic at their ability to win elections they even lose when they win! Al Gore won the 2000 election, but for some strange reason, he didn't become the President of the United States. If you are unable as a party to get the landlord to turn over the keys to a house that is yours, what the hell good are you?Do we all remember our outrage & impotence back then. And Katrina??? How many Katrinas & 9/11's do we have to suffer before we get it.
How many Democrats does it take to lose the most easily winnable election in American history? Not many. Just a few "close advisers" to Barack Obama who tell him a bunch of asinine stuff and he ends up listening to them instead of his own heart. As the party hacks in the past two elections have proven, once they get the candidate's ear, they rest of us might just as well go all van Gogh on ourselves with oursIf Obama is going to listen to his handlers who want to take care of the "Michelle" problem, they're eliminating the charm of his campaign. If he begins to discuss how he is going to deal with the Iran Israel problem with punitive methods, he falls into the trap of agreeing with the scum we're trying to rid ourselves from. Four more years of McCain is four more with GW Bush.
Here's what Obama said: "The danger from Iran is grave, it is real, and my goal will be to eliminate this threat."Why he would say this is obvious, he's trying to gain supporters from the Republican side. But then why would the Republicans pick an imitation when they can have the real thing.
and
". . . Let there be no doubt: I will always keep the threat of military action on the table to defend our security and our ally Israel. Sometimes there are no alternatives to confrontation."
Hope is all I'm left with; that & the desire to create a better world to leave to our children tomorrow.
Saturday, August 30, 2008
Self Publishing - check links to Dan Poynter & Danny O. Snow
These two guys, Dan Poynter & Danny O. Snow, have been running a website and publishing books about self publishing for the longest. If any of you writers out there (and by all indications there are a lot of you) are considering the do's and don'ts of self publishing, these guys have it down to a science. You don't have to buy their book. You can read them online and subscribe to their website for free. They only send their newsletter to subscribers who they have plenty of. Their tip of the month makes sense too, that if you have a book that will be in production during October, November or December, use a 2009 copyright date so it won't look like your book's outdated when January rolls around. As Robert Brewer said in one of his hints, don't bother to self publish at all until you have a decent number of your poems published elsewhere, both online and paper books.
Check these dudes out if you're going the way of many others to self publish...
Holla!....
Check these dudes out if you're going the way of many others to self publish...
Holla!....
Saturday, August 23, 2008
Survived The Accident
On Tuesday afternoon a city bus ran right into the rear end of my beloved Prius. Although there's a slight dent my rear brake & signal light are intact. Only the outside bottom shield of the rear light is cracked a very little bit. I picked out the plastic and put book tape over the crack so I can use it until it's replaced without it shorting out from any possible rain storm.
Can you imagine we fucking got hit by a New York City Transit Authority Bus and neither of us was hurt. The bus was picking up and discharging passengers on 135th & Riverside and I was in the 3rd lane making a left when the bus swerved out at too fast & at too much of an angle. He just smacked my beautiful black Prius in the ass. Dig this - only a slight dent. Some people may whine about this pain in the ass, but hey, that's all it is, a pain in the ass. It's not a major life problem, it's my car. The fortuitous omen about the event is that DubbleD & me are safe & sound, not a scratch on us. Pain in the ass is the $110 I have to pay to put a new light because even though only the cover is damaged on the outside shell, the entire light fixture must be replaced. Replacing the light means total removal of the fender. Can you imagine? Simple becomes complicated. Isn't that the way of life?
Hey I have an angel looking over my shoulder because by now I should've been dead a dozen times. I am fortunate to be here today to share this with you.
Can you imagine we fucking got hit by a New York City Transit Authority Bus and neither of us was hurt. The bus was picking up and discharging passengers on 135th & Riverside and I was in the 3rd lane making a left when the bus swerved out at too fast & at too much of an angle. He just smacked my beautiful black Prius in the ass. Dig this - only a slight dent. Some people may whine about this pain in the ass, but hey, that's all it is, a pain in the ass. It's not a major life problem, it's my car. The fortuitous omen about the event is that DubbleD & me are safe & sound, not a scratch on us. Pain in the ass is the $110 I have to pay to put a new light because even though only the cover is damaged on the outside shell, the entire light fixture must be replaced. Replacing the light means total removal of the fender. Can you imagine? Simple becomes complicated. Isn't that the way of life?
Hey I have an angel looking over my shoulder because by now I should've been dead a dozen times. I am fortunate to be here today to share this with you.
Thursday, August 21, 2008
"Psss Let Me Tell You A Secret!" (girls only)
All right I'm gonna reveal the secret. The time is sworn. Today I had some time off for good behavior after a fully loaded built in drama. No thank god it didn't concern the baby mama. But on to more important girlie talk.
I'm coming down off my writing spree where I've been writing about writing & reading, writing poems or articles & interviews, & writing my novel. I have to come down from all that to talk plain girl-talk shit.
The other day, Vanessa Martir, one of my homies, told me where to go to buy my next bra. She said, "You've got to visit Victoria's Secret when I complained about my recent & unsuccessful bra search. Thank you Vanessa. I found some really cute bras and now I'm waiting for my coupons so I can buy more of them.
Can you believe it gals that before this I didn't have a clue as to how to make my tits look like a shelf. Then this gal helping me at VS says, this is our shelfari bra. Anyway this was great fun but annoying too. It took a lot of work to find the perfect bra with the perfect fit, but I admit I am now sold, VS is the place to go.
I had to try on about 8 bras before I found the one with the perfect fit. From there it went fast and suddenly I had 6 perfect fits. I decided to only take 3 because of the special coupon deal that came with the credit card application. Through all this DubbleD waited patiently for me. He got busy with his poetry and likely just forgot about me when I suddenly reappeared. He was relieved and hungry to see me in my new clothes which he deserved after all that patient waiting.
I can't believe I'm writing about this but what good are secrets if they're not shared. Psss, it's my secret 2!!!!
I'm coming down off my writing spree where I've been writing about writing & reading, writing poems or articles & interviews, & writing my novel. I have to come down from all that to talk plain girl-talk shit.
The other day, Vanessa Martir, one of my homies, told me where to go to buy my next bra. She said, "You've got to visit Victoria's Secret when I complained about my recent & unsuccessful bra search. Thank you Vanessa. I found some really cute bras and now I'm waiting for my coupons so I can buy more of them.
Can you believe it gals that before this I didn't have a clue as to how to make my tits look like a shelf. Then this gal helping me at VS says, this is our shelfari bra. Anyway this was great fun but annoying too. It took a lot of work to find the perfect bra with the perfect fit, but I admit I am now sold, VS is the place to go.
I had to try on about 8 bras before I found the one with the perfect fit. From there it went fast and suddenly I had 6 perfect fits. I decided to only take 3 because of the special coupon deal that came with the credit card application. Through all this DubbleD waited patiently for me. He got busy with his poetry and likely just forgot about me when I suddenly reappeared. He was relieved and hungry to see me in my new clothes which he deserved after all that patient waiting.
I can't believe I'm writing about this but what good are secrets if they're not shared. Psss, it's my secret 2!!!!
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
thinking reading & writing
My characters come alive when I write them and very often I am acting entire scenes out while writing ... or so it would seem to anyone watching me. This is great for writing dialogue because when you speak your characters' lines you know when they ring true.
DD says he never did this before but by watching me he observes how it helps me. I do this with my narrative poetry as well. I love friends with keen ears too. I like to read to people from my book or new poetry. Either. Somehow either way - I'm not exactly what you expect me to be. I've been compared to post modernist and confessional style poets but the truth is, at the time I was being accused of following or imitating them, I had never read Ginsberg or Sylvia Plath. I was too busy writing 10 to 30 page term papers several times each term. I didn't have time for much else besides being a part time mom. Back then, I didn't do a lot of creative writing except for my journals. I went to Columbia for 8 straight years to get a B.A. & M.S.W.. Before that was me & my GED.
It's kind of amazing when you consider that drop out Joy became the ivy league drop in and now has two masters degrees. Colombia is tough and competitive - I kid you not. To maintain a 3.3 average is a full time job. After I finally graduated and settled into a J. O. B., I began writing again. It's hard out here for us poets and writers.
The point is that sometimes it's a deterrent when you really are difficult to pigeonhole. When you sound truly like you and no one else - it's harder to fit in anyplace. People say they want creative and unique because that is what we're all trained to say. The truth is sometimes the feeling you get from reading someone and feeling uncomfortable can be ok too and has its own power. Not everyone can love me or you or anyone else's work. Some people are naturally more controversial and colorful. It's the way life goes. "Explore ... Search for more, no more prisoners of war..."
Celebrating page 170 on my grind plus maintaining this blog and writing poetry too...
Oh and I forgot and working on the magazine and two anthologies!
DD says he never did this before but by watching me he observes how it helps me. I do this with my narrative poetry as well. I love friends with keen ears too. I like to read to people from my book or new poetry. Either. Somehow either way - I'm not exactly what you expect me to be. I've been compared to post modernist and confessional style poets but the truth is, at the time I was being accused of following or imitating them, I had never read Ginsberg or Sylvia Plath. I was too busy writing 10 to 30 page term papers several times each term. I didn't have time for much else besides being a part time mom. Back then, I didn't do a lot of creative writing except for my journals. I went to Columbia for 8 straight years to get a B.A. & M.S.W.. Before that was me & my GED.
It's kind of amazing when you consider that drop out Joy became the ivy league drop in and now has two masters degrees. Colombia is tough and competitive - I kid you not. To maintain a 3.3 average is a full time job. After I finally graduated and settled into a J. O. B., I began writing again. It's hard out here for us poets and writers.
The point is that sometimes it's a deterrent when you really are difficult to pigeonhole. When you sound truly like you and no one else - it's harder to fit in anyplace. People say they want creative and unique because that is what we're all trained to say. The truth is sometimes the feeling you get from reading someone and feeling uncomfortable can be ok too and has its own power. Not everyone can love me or you or anyone else's work. Some people are naturally more controversial and colorful. It's the way life goes. "Explore ... Search for more, no more prisoners of war..."
Celebrating page 170 on my grind plus maintaining this blog and writing poetry too...
Oh and I forgot and working on the magazine and two anthologies!
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