beginning this entry I am reminded of my diary when I was eight

this week's entry would say:

recently I moved, got married, started grad school, had horrible experience with Enterprise Rental Car

then:
need lightbulbs, figure out how to put my bike together

then add:
someone asked about my poetics

I said "to erase"

on the go

Hey, I'm in the midst of a move so I will blog when I settle in a bit more.

Poematic

Do you want online magnetic poetry? If it barely gets used on the fridge, you could try here.

Spies

Subway:

Your eyes
Your ears
Our security

Your eyes
Your ears
Our security

Supposedly
I've joined
some team


Moving on...


Computer:

settings
hijacked

Familiar spy
Suspicious spy
reason to believe
small or large

familial spy

Summer, Revising more

I keep trying to approach this peice. Not sure if previous version was holding a center. I was interested in the language of the beginning, but it may be of a different poem.


Stirred up

We the jalopies
playing on the driveway
flirting with the dart board foraging
the red dot, unlikely
given a melodious limp wrist
(the handbrake)
and mode of transport:
synchronicity, wild flowers,
first sighting of a minnow trap
... slowly recovering
its genus from a less than
steel-trap headwhirl
where minnows were
erroneous birds
thrashing about their wings
inside mason jars.

Creeley

Not unlike many others, I've been spending a lot of time with Robert Creeley's writings. I remember his reading on the porch of the Longfellow House in Cambridge when he talked about Acton, MA and read his poems about his travels abroad--(at the moment I can't remember the collection). More recently, I had signed up for his workshop in July at the Fine Arts Work Center in Provincetown, but you know how the story goes...

There is an excellent video of a reading and conversation with Creeley on April 1, 2004 at the University of Chicago. He tells a great little story about leaving a jazz club one night! See Video of Creeley reading.

May good company continue...

Collage

As I was packing, I found this collage.

Summer, revising

Some changes thus far.

Stirred up

The manifesto (a misnomer) grew tired
before it raged. The worry wart
you burned off. The sliver
you buckled under, born-again
complainer given to rise to fist fight
with the neighbor kicking back a cool one:
a better-not juggernaut. A mandate
for training: training wheels for man.
A truncated version of the mandate:
Modulate, modulate, modulate!
We the jalopies playing on the driveway
flirting with the dart board foraging
the red dot, unlikely
given melodious limp wrist (the handbrake)
and mode of transport: synchronicity,
wild flowers, first sighting of a minnow trap
... slowly recovering its genus
from a less than steel-trap headwhirl
where minnows were erroneous birds
thrashing about in mason jars.

Summer

Hello, here is draft of a poem from today. What the heck!

Stirred up Summer

A mandate for training: training wheels for man.
A truncated version of the mandate. Modulate,
modulate, modulate! The manifesto
(a misnomer) grew tired
before it raged. The worry wart
you burned off. The sliver
you buckled under, born-again
complainer. Ward off fist fight with neighbor
imbibing a cool one: the juggernaut.
We the jalopies playing on the driveway
flirting with the dart board foraging
the red dot, unlikely
given melodious limp wrist, and mode
of transport: synchronicity, wild flowers,
the minnow trap that slowly recovered
its genus from a less than steel-trap
headwhirl where minnows
were birds thrashing about
in mason jars.

Maine

Blogwise, I've been quite inactive. Otherwise, quite active. I just returned from a 10 day camping trip in the White Mountains in Maine. Hung with the moose!

"From the cool cisterns of the midnight air/ My spirit drank repose;" writes Longfellow (born in Maine), which isn't why I went.

I'm also thinking of Forrest Gander and Kent Johnson's striking new translation of Jaime Saenz's _The Night_, which begins
"The night, its rack of antlers twitching in the distance..." (Check out the 7th edition at Mandorla.)

I am now preparing to move so pardon the sporadic bloggin'. I will post soon! And I need to fatten up my blog skills like creating links and "sidelines." Ciao!

Shorn

I own no bed or cooking ware or sheets or utensils or sofa or couch. I have books and bookshelves, and I'm not even sure I'm going to bring the shelves. I'll make my own shampoo and cleaning detergents as long as I remember which mixture of elements don't combust. These are my daydreams of frugality and I have incessant nightmares of disappointing and annoying and angering everyone I know or threw away. I am unable to wake up from their tisk-tisk. Waking myself up from nightmares is on my I-would-love-to-learn-that list--not to mention...isn't the point for it to go unmentioned? All I want is to drink sake and bourbon and moonshine. They move me. Unfortunately, I'm not drinking liquor, coffee, or any caffeinated drinks at the time so I could be chosen for a sleep study for $1,000. Waiting to see if they will select me resembles my version of Miss America. Will they pick me? Flossing makes me new. Every once in a while curly hair comes back. I keep going funny though nothing seemed funny today. I keep going wacko and nothing was funnily wacky today. Am I in someone else's landscape?

Lezama Lima Quote

Lezama Lima Quote
Originally uploaded by cherword.

Not Even a Ditty

Submission Rejection note:

Better luck
when dead

Hopscotch

At times, I take some prior ramblings and revise in the blogsphere. Here we go.


Hopscotch is the Savior

amulets and bird droppings
the cardinal at my door
adamant
for me to screech into the playing ground of a furrowed field

just as there is no "I"
in team (so it's said)
there's no "u" in footwork
(so it's never said)
it's fatal nonetheless

take me for what I am
big willy soft spot
rake me for what I am
some perrennial in the hour of planting
to sprout in some other year
some other texture
claiming your saviour
with a "u"

Carve

Now available! CARVE 5 April 2005 Cheryl Clark Richard Caddel William Corbett on Richard Caddel Jordan Davis Guillermo Juan Parra Stacy Szymaszek 32 pp. Visit Carve

take in fatality

there is no fiction when
unrelegated pronoun is blessed to return
to the midst of hopscotch

hopscotch is the savior


what could protect you

amulets and bird droppings

the cardinal at my door

adamant

for me to screech into the playing ground of a furrowed field



boxed up poker face selling for my demands

"fast spacer" key (lament lament)

de-morphed into sculpture


take me for what I am

big willy soft spot

rake me for what I am

some perrennial in the hour of planting


i'll come in some other year
some other texture


claim your saviour
with a "u"

Papers book

Hey ya'll, The book I made from the poem "Papers" by Ruth Lepson and James Carson is complete, and the virtual book is posted online at Dispatx. Visit Dispatx:


I just e-fell into this journal from Eastern Michigan University called Bathhouse. Listen to this musical intro for Vol.2 #1!

In Chicago

In Chicago
Originally uploaded by cherword.

Visit to hometown in December

CrossofChurch

CrossofChurch
Originally uploaded by cherword.

CloseupChurch

CloseupChurch
Originally uploaded by cherword.

Church that burned down in my neighorhood