. .reader


   reader ...

               what is a reader a friend or foe, an enemy or would be lover?


 there are more poems in books than in these leaves

    electronic as they may be they have their place

                       in the server somewhere a server of word and image of iambic and flesh of word and  deed

   a server's a servant of the human being

                              reader  with books one more often than not infrequently knows

                                rolling reader rolling in her clothes rolling
                                                                           in her bed    rolling
                              naked in the sun                         on some city bound beach
                                                                     where everything is fun
 a reader handing your book hand held out as she takes yours or holds your other hand
    as   if  she were a cop

                      arresting you for looking so good

                                                        'arresting' for being love's prisoner        ~  .





  On the edge of tenderness it was where it was lost
                by rushing ahead hurtle turtle head over heels
   is what   wrecked what might
have been

  revealing too soon

saying too soon

 too soon  .

...was (it) ...


it was always two  and 
                       not  one 



Section 32


 Section 32 almost done/steady as she goes/ write/print/ read-re-read, comment/ touch ups/ corrections/print

add to pile

 work's become a joy of finishing of breathing at the edge of overlooking it


don quixote


   It was not her                           that's Don Quixote it's I.


                                                 I who's                  lived that life   .

in combination with so many others      ~

 but only those who've really lived knows what it means to 'be' a Don Quixote  '  ~  .




Simultaneous karmic reincarnation _ 1970


.. died ..


  My friend Ron, my hockey friend and a friend  in other ways too, died January 27.  I spoke to

  him twice on the 23rd and once on the 24th.

                   I'm not sure what else to say right now   ~ except life's short brutal and brief
                                                                                 other times it's long splendid and
                                                                                         less made of grief

  hahahah. that rhymes.   anyhow, it's sad or not sad as sad's not the word that really says what it's left me with or done.
                                     i mean it's obvious a friend is  gone

                                                                               he was older than I and had had
                 this an that  operations here an there

                                                                              but he was a great man

             a good friend heart-felt

                              I'll miss  him  and not even notice  (realize it)

          before it's happening`

    &            he'll be missed by many




Re: times and section

Re: times

Re: big bad winter



: big bad winter

_actually it was 30 below with wind chill

 and i found myself thinking of those people in the war zones
   thousands upon thousands
 under everything that can be fired  over and above them

one thought led to another and another

big bad winter


  big bad winter returned with a vengeance a couple of days /you forget what 21 below with wind feels
like! but with sun ! shining down on /and scarfed and double-coated/
      top to bottom it's not so bad!
    the river/ and  the light               /and gleaming


Re: ___Section

 section 30 done    ~ doing touch ups    more   to write soon.


Re: ___Section




 C.P. (tape recorder on) ... there are times you remove a posting and I was wondering how that works? if there, I mean it's obvious if you're not really happy about something you're going to return itto draft status ...

C.D.  (a smile and giggle)  ..say no more .. say no more... but  of course yes that's exactly how
i think about it  it's a work in progress at least as long i'm alive and kicking and have brains and breath left... 

like bold to brass isn't and there are , say there are times, i might have written what i thought was a  love poem or something like along those lines 
w hen really it was not that, but an exercise and if i become aware of it i put it back in the shop, or on the floor and see what happens if i mix it up with other things right... it's not a book yet ...

C.P.  yes that makes sense  it does .. however you do say on one of your blog profiles that 'blog is publication'  and so how does notion fit into what you are saying here...? right now just now  .

C.D.  that's a good question and you know there are several ways to answer it  but for now, and I mean I do want to get back to it but for now, I'd say it's ambivalent enough and two sided enough that there's going to several possibilities ...

CP gets up lights a cigar & turns off the tape recorder . C.D. says good night, and off they go their own rooms down at opposite sides of the house  . they share .   and do not share. 



................'cause poetry's a quantum ....


|  because poetry's a quantum there's room for all and more . archive. the infinite library without walls |


re: ___Section


Re: ___Section __ 

Actually it's now 29 sections written. that  blog posting earlier was a few days old.

___________________________________ sections and connections! what a comedy!




27 sections now written___ 18th section revised__onward to go.

did some tinkering with the first line and tried out  a few small but would be significant changes  in
  the opening tone.

I've been printing the sections as I go along, testing them , then changing or adding or  whatever doesn't seem to work gets changed. Does it work one or the other , and which one seems best is the one to go with.

My judgements at this time are mostly based on the sound of it, how the poem sound. Contrary to some or perhaps popular opinion

  the sound fills in the visual element of  the poem. Call the visual aspect the content.

 the sound is the form  (the horn ) of the visual which is the content i.e. the baggage carried by the freight.

i.e. the Horns blaring announce the contents  (the baggage) of the train, the train is the poem.