A poetic journey through my mind

Archive for May, 2013

Back in black

 

Well, that was scary. Hooray for WP and scaring me half to death, thinking I was going to lose a years worth of new work, plus all the old stuff from 18yrs. old on. *gulps* But it’s all good, the baby/blog has been saved, and we will just have to live without the fancy-schmancy fonts that I’m not sure anyone even noticed, anyway. ;p

I apologize (only once, but I’m allowed one.) for taking so long to get back on track, and let people know what was/is going on. All I can say on my behalf is that, as always, real life got the better of me. One of these days I’m gonna wrestle that bitch to the ground and pin her for good, but for now…not so much. 😉

Real life update I just got over an 8 day bout with Salmonella, 5 of them in the hospital (Thank You again, St. Vincents!) but on the good side, I lost 15 lbs. and had 5 days of the most gorgeous view of “my” St. Johns river, even though I could barely appreciate it at the time. I took some out of the window pictures, hopefully they turned out well enough to throw some up in a bit. I’m still not 100%, but I’m working on 99%, and I think I can be happy with that.

Work update…what is this “work” you speak of? I know not this word. >.< Have had a totally uninspired last few weeks, which is partly my fault, as I firmly believe in the “use it or lose it” philosophy of poetry. The more you write, the more you feel like writing, and the more that little window/camera/file-cabinet/treasure box in your brain opens up, to collect even more. So my next casual goal (because if I make it firm right now I’ll scare it off…:p) is to write -something- every day. If it’s postable, I will do so, if not, I’ll let it sit a few days, go back to it, and see if it’s postable yet. *g* The Magic Refrigerator Door philosophy. Just because you just checked the fridge, 5 minutes ago, and found nothing, doesn’t preclude the possibility of a fridge-fairy, or maybe some flying space monkeys with interdimensional powers, having slipped something in there without your knowledge.

All that aside, I wanted to touch base (Hmm…base touching…I’m touching your base…we must be -really- good friends… ;)) and let y’all know what was going on, and what hopefully -will- be going on. For now I’ma take my crazy-lazy-hazy brain away, and go marinate it in Mt. Dew for a while. Love ya more!


Back in black

 

Well, that was scary. Hooray for WP and scaring me half to death, thinking I was going to lose a years worth of new work, plus all the old stuff from 18yrs. old on. *gulps* But it’s all good, the baby/blog has been saved, and we will just have to live without the fancy-schmancy fonts that I’m not sure anyone even noticed, anyway. ;p

I apologize (only once, but I’m allowed one.) for taking so long to get back on track, and let people know what was/is going on. All I can say on my behalf is that, as always, real life got the better of me. One of these days I’m gonna wrestle that bitch to the ground and pin her for good, but for now…not so much. 😉

Real life update I just got over an 8 day bout with Salmonella, 5 of them in the hospital (Thank You again, St. Vincents!) but on the good side, I lost 15 lbs. and had 5 days of the most gorgeous view of “my” St. Johns river, even though I could barely appreciate it at the time. I took some out of the window pictures, hopefully they turned out well enough to throw some up in a bit. I’m still not 100%, but I’m working on 99%, and I think I can be happy with that.

Work update…what is this “work” you speak of? I know not this word. >.< Have had a totally uninspired last few weeks, which is partly my fault, as I firmly believe in the “use it or lose it” philosophy of poetry. The more you write, the more you feel like writing, and the more that little window/camera/file-cabinet/treasure box in your brain opens up, to collect even more. So my next casual goal (because if I make it firm right now I’ll scare it off…:p) is to write -something- every day. If it’s postable, I will do so, if not, I’ll let it sit a few days, go back to it, and see if it’s postable yet. *g* The Magic Refrigerator Door philosophy. Just because you just checked the fridge, 5 minutes ago, and found nothing, doesn’t preclude the possibility of a fridge-fairy, or maybe some flying space monkeys with interdimensional powers, having slipped something in there without your knowledge.

All that aside, I wanted to touch base (Hmm…base touching…I’m touching your base…we must be -really- good friends… ;)) and let y’all know what was going on, and what hopefully -will- be going on. For now I’ma take my crazy-lazy-hazy brain away, and go marinate it in Mt. Dew for a while. Love ya more!


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please “like” this post if you can see it…i’m trying to find out if i have to fuss at WP to fix the blog.  *grumbles*


new/expired blog… :(

I don’t know what’s going to happen to this blog, but I can’t afford to renew it…hopefully it will be available again at kyotzeta.wordpress.com.  *crosses fingers*  If not, please check Various and Sundry Nonsenses or KC’s Co-op for news.  *hugs*


One of my favorite poems:a dissection and a discussion

The Emperor of Ice-Cream

by Wallace Stevens

Call the roller of big cigars,
The muscular one, and bid him whip
In kitchen cups concupiscent curds.
Let the wenches dawdle in such dress
As they are used to wear, and let the boys
Bring flowers in last month's newspapers.
Let be be finale of seem.
The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.
Take from the dresser of deal,
Lacking the three glass knobs, that sheet
On which she embroidered fantails once
And spread it so as to cover her face.
If her horny feet protrude, they come
To show how cold she is, and dumb.
Let the lamp affix its beam.
The only emperor is the emperor of ice-cream.

– See more at: http://www.poets.org/viewmedia.php/prmMID/15744#sthash.cpJCUm2i.dpuf

My take on this poem is that obviously it is about death…but I believe it is saying that death is normal, even homely, and not time for some big show.  “Let be be finale of seem”  Let the things that are, the simple facts, at the end, conquer the illusion, the story that people tell themselves about each other.  Let what is be the end of what it seemed to be.  Do normal things, homely things, respectful things…remember the person, and that she had a life, not just a death.  Remember also that the body is only a shell, and don’t be afraid to look at it, don’t keep it in the dark and shiver.  I love this poem, both for its meaning to me and for its wonderful imagery…I can see every scene, every word, as if in a movie.  I can see the kitchen, full of mourning women in their everyday dresses, standing and whispering about the dead one.  I can smell the flowers, wrapped in wet newspaper, fresh from someones garden or yard or bush.  I can see the big strong man, uncomfortable in the tiny kitchen, but nonetheless making his contribution to the event.  I can see other women, filling the tiny bedroom, straightening the dead ones hair and dress, going to the dresser that along with the bed, almost fills the room.  Taking out the well loved sheet, smelling of cedar and outside air from a recent laundering.  Gently unfolding it so that the careful embroidery shows, and laying it over her as if she was sleeping…and only then pulling it up, over her face.  I can see the woman, the form under the sheet, her ancient feet with their well-earned calluses…a shell, but one that was well loved, and remembered fondly, but with clarity, not illusion.  This, to me, is “The Emperor of Ice Cream”


Image

How to send your name to Mars!

How to send your name to Mars!

This is my certificate commemorating my submitting my name to the Maven Space Program for a DvD that they are sending to Mars! I love this idea! Anyone may submit a name, and -all- will go. I thought I should put this here, as this goes to my twitter acct. as well as my fb acct., so the most people will see it…I hope. 😉

http://lasp.colorado.edu/maven/goingtomars/send-your-name/


Desert Knight

city lives and canyon eyes, the blue of distant skies,
crystal air and pinon scent compete with smog and lies.
through city traffic, city noise, he walks as if alone,
his mind awash with starfields, and the scent of cooling stone.
the smell of burning refuse fills his clothing and his hair,
the flames that warm the icy night reflected in his stare.
the city teems with tortured souls, a million silent howls,
a beast that grinds the spirit fine within its slavering jowls.
he walks alone within its jaws, and dreams a different night,
cold and clear, the stars so near they fill his mind with light.
and as he walks, the starlight gleams, a shimmering silver glow,
it spreads its wings behind him through the dirty sleeting snow.
and everywhere it fills the air, the scent of pine and sage,
it stirs the stagnant city smog, and cools the sullen rage.
and in his wake, the city’s ache, the all-pervasive pain,
is smothered to a fitful glow, an ember in the rain.