June 13, 2013 § 2 Comments
and it was just the red I wanted.
And fifty poems later I have figured out a sense of home, an adjective among other things and adverb the way house is not, but
no verb the way house is, one a trope the other, in a word, trappings
and now I’m stalling
the last house’s poem(s) to write, already daunted by the editing I’m like the kildeer,
devising the next book (of poetry, straight up, ha! already have the title, maybe, and the poems in a pile in front of me, but it is good & ok to have side projects on the ready while you are stalled on another…not that it gets you off, me off the finishing hook…)
stalled because I’m not sure how I want to put together the several projects which will have been spawned in search of home. Stalled because I am daunted by the editing and haven’t found my editor’s stance yet. Not true, stalled and daunted by the editing because I haven’t taken the time to sit. Still.
Anyway it was just the red I wanted, and today I go in search of gray with just a silvery hint of rose.
What are you doing she had asked in return
Playing with color and form, I’d said, so maybe I’m not stalled at all, I’m preparing learning practicing discovering some of what I will need to know for the constructing and crafting for the creating of that book which so far has no form.
Maybe I’m not stalled at all, maybe it’s on the way, maybe I’m on its way.
June 11, 2013 § 3 Comments
or bound and determined, so at The Open House all of us gathered to enjoy the fruits of each others labors and to share the jillfoolery with the community we of course talk about our ways&whys and the pitfalls (it seems, more than the successes)
anyway I’m not alone in taking a project to the brink,
so, what I didn’t get to say the other day but comes to me in flash as I begin another project wondering how it will fit together in the end, which sometimes you, and I, need to know in the beginning is:
Binding the book, (by which I mean finishing it) is like cleaning up the house after the party. Yup, that’s exactly what it’s like.
It’s a bit of a sloppy metaphor because binding is what gets the party started, but that said, fact is, that’s my story and I’m bound to it.
June 6, 2013 § Leave a comment
30th & Irving
gets a bad rap it was
a perfectly good house
light air space wood floors good
still close enough to school & cross town from work
sturdy few demands
all the amenities and
trouble was it wasn’t
the house on 7th
and it wasn’t ours
so all of a sudden we were looking
for a house we could would
buy (talk about
June 3, 2013 § Leave a comment
This composition intended to parse (which it did) what I’ve come up with about ‘home’ in the last 48 poems, was composed at the case–as we say–a composing tempo all its own, a medium all its own one Garamond 12 pt, (with swashes, they are seductively beautiful and the temptation is to use too many) letter at a time, I stopped when I was out of sorts, (‘p’ the limiting factor) though maybe for the moment I’d said all I had to, but the purpose of this composition, (macbookpro, typeface defaulted by wordpress at the kitchen table) is twofold
* I had a color in mind, a gray blue which was not gray or blue and I nailed it (without much ado) which brings to bear bare an interesting if obvious bit of wisdom counter to my usual m.o.:
you can’t get the color if you don’t know what it is,
ever more ironic (another of my aesthetic proclivities) given the other tidbit of the day, an (one of those driving down the road by yourself tra la la ing along) insight incite which was
* * my genius is accidental (!)