Saturday, September 01, 2007

"Laughing world may kick you out."


My first real publishing-- a short story and some poetry in The Fifth Page, Ryerson University's literary magazine.

Looking back on it, WTF!

There were people in the book immeasurably more talented than I.

For example, here is what my twenty-something solipsism produced:


Ego

Through the labyrinth of soul
I crawl
Up through the maze
Down to the dregs
And sideways, left, right
But always returning to centre
Ego centre


And here is Weepy,
by Judy Thomson


Little dreamer
Sits in corner
silly tear comes dribbling down
What's it this time, Goosey Gander?
Some harsh word has made you frown?

Has your boyfriend
Hurt your feelings
Broke your heart forever more?
(It is nothing
Happens often;
Trifles cut her to the core.)

Rainy day's
Contagious vapour
Maybe through your skin has seeped.
(It is thin and little hampers
Imagined sorrows clouds have weeped.)

You, young Moody,
Cry for daisies
Losing petals in the fall
Some old Tom cat sheds a whisker
You sit down and start to bawl.

You are open
World can hurt you
Every bruise you welcome in
Are you maladjusted, Weepy?
(Or shallow phont made of tin?)

Why be different?
Why be moody?
You could be like us you know.
Join the party, be a joker
Chips and coke lay sorrows low.

O.K., stay then, dribble onward
Take the burdens of the world
Watch the dirt and rain make mudpies
With your feelings, torture swirled.

Keep your corner,
Lonely Goosey,
You were born that way no doubt.
Still, being sensitive is risky
Laughing World may kick you out!


Why am I reproducing some of this?

Maybe Ivan's "poetry" was that of the assertive vulgarian, the extrovert.

And Judy's that of the sensitive outsider.

What do you think?

You don't have to feed me candy.


(..I just realized that Judy Thomson's poem (Where is she now?) reminds me so much of some of my correspondents. My past love describe them as "F...-ed up. Sensitive.")

--Ivan

130 comments:

TomCat said...

It's tough to compare poetry with rhyme and meter to free verse, so I can't say that one is better than the other. Both evoke feeling.

ivan@creativewriting.ca said...

Thank you, tomcat. Sounds fair.

I enjoy your blog.

For some reason, I've been perusing some of my old published stuff--like an aging starlet looking over old clippings.
A trite mawkish of me, but thank you for the comment.

I'll be around to visit your political blog.

Ivan

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

Ivan,

I agree with Tomcat, both bring one to feel emotions. I think that it depends on the mood of the person and maybe even the gender of the person reading it on which emotions they gather.

When I read yours it seems distant, as if you were searching, but never quite found what you were searching for and so you returned to the place where you were most comfortable.

Hers, reminds me of distnace but in a painful way. It is taken inside and almost crushed ... it also seems as if she is saying get over yourself, things happen and they hurt, but thats life. It is intense.

I like them both.

Of course I could be completely wrong and letting my heart get in the way of my mind.

Donnetta Lee said...

Like them both, no kidding. Very different. That's what makes the world go around. Candy? Gee, I could use some right now.
Donnetta

ivan@creativewriting.ca said...

Tara,

Thanks for an honest response.

There is still the tail end of the full moon out tonight and it is doing serious damage to my mental state. Seems I can't trust what I'm saying or doing.
I am still trying to frame a comment on your "emotional being" blog. What a bower of love!

Ivan

ivan@creativewriting.ca said...

Donnetta,

I was going to suggest Reece's Pieces for you.

But, peanut butter! :)

Ivan

the walking man said...

No shit right?

OK I found your piece to speak to me on a deeper level because you say go where you will you will always find your way back to centre. Maybe to start down the same stupid path you just finished but you will still find your way back...there is an amount of hope expressed.

The Thomson piece I found readable and true; but to me it was still a bit angst ridden.

The best line being about the coke and chips. But on the whole of it I felt she was telling the distraught audience member to go ahead and revel in your pain, wait for it to rain and make mud pies.

Even though she slightly offers shelter from the emotional storm I believe she would much prefer to stay inside and watch the hurt happen (rather you than me babe) than help it be overcome.

Peace

mark

Gledwood said...

Hey what a fascinating blog I'm going to add you to my links.. I think I've got one for poetry blogs... then I can come back and read more at leisure... love what i see tho... i'm attempting to write my life story bc i have a tale of dereliction and downfall to tell... i've been slowly persuaded that factual is the way to go rather than novelizing the truth... seems more up to the minute... i don't know... well you're welcome to drop by my blog any time of course! gledwood2.blogspot's the place to be... my daily confessional! see you there sometime hopefully
all the best
from

Gledwood
"Vol 2" ...

Gledwood said...

... yeah finally i got your url sorted out but it's a bit complicated

ivan@creativewriting.ca said...

The Walking Man,

Segacious of you. Right on.

I wrote the poem, of course, before any serious sh*t really happened in my life, though there was the War in Europe that had left me a tad shell-shocked.

Interesting in what you have to say on "finding your way back."

I tried retracing my steps, some years ago, though with nearly disastrous consequences.
I went right back to Mexico, right back to the university there, right back to the "scene of the crime" where an adultery had first taken place, back to the unfinished M.A. degree, back to the Instituto Allende, where I had been promoted to teacher of writing.
I met a little old man there who took my thesis and offered me a handshake over my degree.
But on the road back I was twice nearly killed and my head still aches at times over an accident on the way to Mexico.

I had, in fact retraced my steps, but nothing was revealed, save for the danger of the trip: You can't travel 5,000 miles round trip, cross all of America without smacking into something.

I came back flat broke-- again, ten years after the first go-round...Just repeated the process.

And soon upon returning the second time, some goon set fire to my house and I had to make a swan dive out of a second-story window...Thank God for Air Force fire training!

No use in going back to the past; it has a way of smacking back at you.
As for Judy Thomoson's poem, the girl was in her early twenties and was trying to make sense of life, wherein (As Fitzgerald might say) there really is action between the devourers and the devoured. Kind of emotional dog-eat-dog.
I certainly found this the case as I moved into my thirties. It's a jungle out here!
...Especially, I think, among theatre folk...Some fuzzy-eared asshole of a critic can pan a brilliant play and leave a company of thespians entirely devastated.

Ivan

ivan@creativewriting.ca said...

gledwood,

Yeah, were into "dereliction and downfall" here as well.
Much of my writing is an explanation of "Why I f*cked up".

It is small wonder that you have trouble in sorting my blog out . There is so much stuff up in it--three entire novels and a hell of a lot of other stuff; my son did something clever in putting it all together and no one can seem to sort out the tech detais, certainly not me.

Ivan

eric1313 said...

Your poem tells the reader to "know thy self". And you did it without beating everyone over the head with too many words and ideas. And your poem does have meter. Meter is relative to each poem. none of the sylables in each line "feels" out of place. That's how I try to roll, even if I am a free verser who does occasionally slip into rhyme when it feels right.

Judy Thompson's poem was very good for a rhymer--but it's hard to keep up rhyming without feeling or sounding silly. At least to me.

No candy, just observation.

This post spoke to me.

eric1313 said...

Your poem says more than know thy self. It says get to know thy self, and if you get lost, you aren't. Your core being will always be intact. Very clear.

ivan@cretivewriting.ca said...

Thanks eric1313,

You have an incredible sensiivity for language.

Ivan.

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

Well I guess i was completely off on that one...smiles... One cannot be always right.

Anyone for a glass of red wine?

eric1313 said...

no prob. I caught your other posts, too. Very good stuff, hard to pick a favorite.

eric1313 said...

red wine right here! hahaha

I need all the drunk power I can get. MSU "declined acceptance" of me. the bastards...

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

Eric,

Why what was the reasoning behind that?

I have a cooled bottle sitting right here. I was hoping a gentlemen would want to sit down and have a chat.

eric1313 said...

and I don't think you missed it, IOHOOH. You got it, too, from what I read of your comments.

Ivan, this stuff is all great. Too bad this continent in general has no taste what so ever in poetry.

I'm going to send my stuff to Japan for publishing. They love translated American English poets.

So I've heard, anyway.

eric1313 said...

I took all my classes thinking of Wayne State, and don't meet basic requirements, according to their counselors. I went there all week, going from department to depratment and office to office trying to get them to change their minds, but the wouldn't.

Fine. I'll keep my nine thou per semester. Wayne only wants five thousand, so I can actually afford to eat...

eric1313 said...

So at least I'm accepted at Wayne, just nowhere to stay. I'll be there no matter what. I want no part of the various craptastic jobs I've had to work thus far in life.

I'm in Lansing, now, and MSU...
grrr...

So the laughing world tried kicking me out, but I won't budge.

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

I was going to let iot all go after this fall. I would be done with a double major. I have changed my mind. If I can do it, I am heading to the Univeristy of Michigan. Why not get a masters... right?

As for the poetry in Japan. I have not heard that, but I do have a friend that lives in Japan. He moved there after graduation and now teaches English ... ha! I will give him a call and ask what he knows of this.

ivan@creativewritig.ca said...

eric13,
Accepted by Wayne?

Did I get that right?

Good stuff...If not, write a letter of petition--sort of last resort. It worked for me once at U. of T.

Ivan

ivan@creativewriting.ca said...

eric1313,

Thanks for the kind words.
Hell, I might try Japan!


Ivan

ivan@creativewriting.ca said...

Tara,

I'll be popping a cork myself, as soon as the Saturday Night Live rerun is over. I love Kristen Wiig.
Next to Darrel Hammond and Maya Rudolph, she's the only one on the show that's funny any more.
Oh what the hell,

I'm sure eric 1313 is up for a drink. We could start right now.

Ivan

ivan@creativewriting, said...

Whoops!

Here come a whack of emails.

I hate reading when I'm drunk.

Ivan

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

Ivan,


Share a drink with me?

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

And Eric, you are but an hour from me. For some reason I thought you were in Detroit.

ivan@creativewriting.ca said...

I once penned something.

Give you the ending of it:

"I long for you with all my heart
Despite the stigma, thought.
It matters little what is fact
I'll drink the cup you brought.

Ivan

ivan@creativewriting.ca said...

I was telling eric1313 that you are a poetess yourself and you like poets.
Take that, Melissa!
How dare you reject poetic eric?
And after he wrote you some beautiful poetry!
dumbrod.

Ivan

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

Scoot over and lend me your glass. I lit a fire this night ... it is quite beautiful and I could use the company.

eric1313 said...

Thanks, both of you.

May I call you Tara, Tara? I'm being silly, of course... I was in St. Clair Shores for many years, about three miles north of Detroit along Lake St. Clair, and moved last weekend to Lansing. I kind of had to--gotta love those "no choice" situations.

My car died--you know how that is, Ivan. And there is no more work to be found in Detroit, unless I wanted to ask people if they want fries with their order, or trick people into a get rich quick scam for three to five hundred dollars a pop--of course, I myself would have to pony up five hundred dollars before being "trained" to trick others into making such a desperate choice. Can't do that. I'm a writer and tutor and a teacher at heart. And a guitarist and history buff. And I like to talk. A lot. Obviously...

Thanks for keeping me company, you two. Lonely nights and the written word go hand in hand. Glad to know there's others out there in the same limbo as I am.

ivan@creativewriting.ca said...

Ah, virtual drinking...real drinking?
I'm there.

You still up, eric1313?

Ivan

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

well if the will wanted to drive or wanted company ... By morning company would arrive.

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

NO virtual world Ivan. I am as real as they come.

eric1313 said...

Thanks, Ivan! I have to paraphrase Jesus about Melissa, so I hope I don't offend any athiests:
"Forgive [her], Lord, for she knows not what she does."

Tara, Melissa was my girlfriend when I first went to college and decided to become a writer--she gave me an ultimatum; stop writing and do something serious (meaning make some money for her), or she was gone. Needless to say, she's gone. I wrote her a poem and dropped it in her mailbox, and she accused me of being crazy and that was the last time I spoke to her.

Writing is a much better lover, anyway!

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

Yes Eric, you may call me Tara. Situations come and go Eric, perhaps it was meant for you to be in Lansing now.

I take it you are moving again to attend school or is there a branch in Lansing?

ivan@creativewriting.ca said...

eric,

Looks like you're very much up.
The Quarks, our writing club members are also up, peppering with emails.
Don't know how long I can hold on. it's going on to two a.m.

eric, it's natural for a young person to go through some trial runs in life.
But mine is damn near over, and I'm still screwing up. Ah, talent. LOL.
Cheers, Tara.

Ivan

eric1313 said...

Yes, I'm here.

But only virtually drinking!

I am drunk from poetry...

as always!

The hangover is much more profound
and a lot sweeter...

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

Writing is a great lover until it leads you to love. Then your heart and mind drifts into that love waiting for an invitation.

As for Melissa... women like that give good women bad names or at the very least make it hard for true hearts to find love.

Shame of her.

eric1313 said...

Tara

Exactly about situations coming and going. I knew it was over when she was jealous over my facing a computer screen, or reading a book.

Ivan
You've got miles left to go, or you wouldn't be here. Drinking keeps the arteries clean--you'll just have to keep writing down all the screw ups and get some lemonade from the sour fruit of life. That's what I do, when I'm not in full denial and writing about love from my memory.

good enough for me!

sounds like the writng club is a very comforting thing!

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

Cheers Ivan and 2 am? Are you ahead of me in time? It is1:12 am here. I thought you were behind me.

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

I do not understand Jealousy, it is truly the most ridiculous thing there is. It serves no purpose.

Ever think you will find love again?

ivan@creativewriting.ca said...

Tara,

You're correct. It's l:20 a.m. right
now.

Oh what the hell. I used to get fired as a journalist for inaccuracy.
Never let the facts get in the way of a good story, I say!...I meant to cut and paste...Yeah, yeah.

Ivan

ivan@creativewriting.ca said...

Hey,this is good wine.

Ivan

eric1313 said...

I find love all the time, tripping over it, or just observing it.

Nothing just for me, but enough to keep hope alive and not be bitter. My best is ahead of me.

And if I was with someone, I wouldn't have had the time to have met you and everyone else I've met out here in this creative space.

I love that. I love writing, and I love conversation.

I love life too much to give up hope.

As Percival said in Excallibur
"I can't give up hope--It's all that is left."

Great stories, but every Arthur movie I ever saw left me disapointed. The myths are so much richer than the movies get to.

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

Ivan,

What do you do when no one is around? And I agree this wine is sweet.

Tara

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

eric,

I know what you mean. I am a great fan of the days when the Arthur ruled. It was barbaric, but romanitic.

Very sweet to say such things abouot us here. I am missing something... my heart is holding out for someone... not sure they see me.

eric1313 said...

Ivan, hope you're prepared for a hundred + responses on this one!

I've been to these little blog parties before...

Wait til we all start passing free verse around--that's when things get really crazy. My friend Singleton, her sister, and I racked up 270 responses in three hours of chatting and poem passing before. It's like a marathon for the left brain...

ivan@creativewriting.ca said...

Thanks for the chin-up eric.

ivan@creativewiting.ca said...

Tara,

"Writing is a great lover until it leads you to love. Then your heart and mind drifts into that love waiting for an invitation."

Oh, don't I know it!

Ivan

eric1313 said...

Tara

What are you missing? Or do you know for sure?

And yes, you all are very cool. And Arthurian myths are great, whether it's the French inspired myths of chivalry and god, or the Britton/Welsh pagan insipred myths of Merlin, or the child of May(that particular myth is very barbaric), or Arthur raiding Anwyfyn of it's supernatural treasure, thus inspiring the "old ones" to plot Arthur's downfall...

ivan@creativewriting.ca said...

re Mallory and King Arthur,

I am still trying to digest the three-way between Art, Gwynnevere and Lance.

Ivan

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

Eric,

I am missing a love. I found what I want ... it is hiding in the corner either too afraid to come out or too afraid to tell me to get away.

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

Ivan,

I am sure your invitation was delivered.

ivan@creativewriging.ca said...

Tara,

What do I do when alone?

I play with my computer.

Says computer, "Your lovemaking is a tad mechanical...Unskilled!"

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

Ivan,

When you are writing and just sittig with your thoughts. What would you do if offered a new life?

eric1313 said...

Ivan

Yeah that is the strange part. Everyone else in the myths are want blood over the "betrayal of the Kin's bed" except Arthur.

Modern comparison would be Eric Clapton stealing George Harrison's wife, Patty Boyd Harrison, yet they remained very close friends...

Very strange on several levels, yet understandable too, sibce they were all about eastern philosophy and tao and about buhdism.

eric1313 said...

Ivan
don't mind my atrocious spelling...
It's late!

Tara
I hope your love speaks up very soon and emerges from the shadows to grace your life with its blessing.

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

Eric,

How sweet, but somehow I think I may have to suffer and if I do it will be a tragic loss.

ivan@creativewriting.ca said...

Eric,

Eric Clapton stealing George Harrison's wife, Patty Boyd Harrison, yet they remained very close friends...

Yeah, I read about that. Very strange.

But then I get this hooker's autobiography and she claims George would go over for, uh, oral presentations. George Harrison?
The nice guy? I could see Ringo Starr!.

Ivan

eric1313 said...

Tara
Speak up to this person and the loss won't be tragic. You have a wonderfull life and heart. Don't let yourself suffer in silence, or lose love because of it.

My beloved first love was an accident that wouldn't have happened--best frineds for years in school and neither one of us thought the other was attracted. Then one night everything flooded from us. I was sixteen and destined for the purple cloth and throne of the world, all because my most desperate teenaged dreams were true and I didn't know it!

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

Eric,

I have all but said the words, He is an intelligent man. Perhaps I am just not what he wants.

eric1313 said...

Ivan

Maybe I misjudged Georgie Porgy.

I still think he's the most underated guitar player ever, but hookers... I believe that. As a Beatle, he once had the world being thrown at his feet.

"Something in the way she moves..."

eric1313 said...

Tara

That is sad. Love so warps the mind...

Unrequited love really does a hack job to the mind.

But don't let it defile your heart. You're strong and have lived through much hurt and anguish. Too much to let it destroy you.

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

Eric,

Love does not destroy me, but it does break my heart. I suppose it is a chance that we take. The latest poem I wrote on my emotional being site.. is about this love.

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

Ivan,

Where are you?

ivan@creativewriting.ca said...

Eric,

Yes, George was a very fast guitar player.
Between the three Beatles they had absorbed the Nashville sound, Anglo-Irish ditties, madrigals, counterpoint and probably even pentatones when there was a fifth Beatle. But it was George's lead playing that seemed to hold it together.
And, as a child of the Fifties, I really admired George playing "Raunchy" while it was hardly out of demo. :)

Ivan

eric1313 said...

Tara

I'll read it before I pass out. I read you often last at night because of the feelings your stuff evokes.

Ivan@creativewriting.ca said...

Ah, unrequited love.

You can spend years gnawing at your soul.
Waste.


Ivan

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

Ivan, is it a waste?

eric1313 said...

Ivan

Yes, the Beatles are a favorite. Along with Hendrix, Pink Floyd and Led Zepplin, any Motown, and my beloved blues.

Paul McCartney used to mercilessly mock George for being a bad musician. That's just ludicrous.

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

Eric,

Thats makes me feel wonderful. Thank you for those words. I am a grown woman and yet a part of me feels like a child being rejected. Pathetic eh?

ivan@creativewriting.ca said...

Oh-oh.

I think I'll have to do a doormouse.
Quarks are not 100 per cent happy.

And my keyboard is so full of cigarette ash that it dowsn't obey me any more.

Ivan

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

Ivan,

Why are they not happy?

eric1313 said...

Tara

Truth is easy to speak. Your writing is some very delicate and strong stuff.


Ivan

Turn your keyboard upside down and shake it all out. I have to do the same thing sometimes.

Josie said...

Good God, I go out for the evening, and you've got 75 hits on your new post. What the Sam Hill??? Now I'm going to have to read through them.

eric1313 said...

Tara

And I'm grown up too, but love reduces me to a shy child scared beyond reason over rejection.

So scared, it sabatoges my love life!

ivan@creativewriting.ca said...

Eric,

Yes, there is a perception that Paul and John were sort of bouncing off each other in the songs, leaving George out.
Yes, I agree with your choices,
Hendrix, Pink Floyd and Led Zepplin, any Motown and the blues guys. Yep. Son House and Robert Johnson, and Blind Lemon Jefferson...Uh, is "Blind Lame and Crippled Horribly" in there too? :)
Seems the more mangled, the better the music, cf, Django Reinhardt.

Ivan

eric1313 said...

Hi Josie!

ivan@creativewriting.ca said...

Hi Josie,

We be bad.

Ivan

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

Eric,

I was blessed ine day when someone wrote to me and said, "Reading your poetry is like seeing something that you shouldn't be seeing. An intimate situation between two people". It was one of the best compliments I ever got. But that is how I am... I hold nothing back. Sometimes that gets me in trouble.

eric1313 said...

Django is a god! It is very speculative, but he might not have gotten as famous had not the Nazis set his house on fire causing the accident that mangled his left hand. The way he compensated for the missing fingers shaped his unique style.

And I love Robert Johnson. The much mythologized selling of his soul at the crossroads is something evry artist probably thinks of, every now and again.

Josie said...

Hi, Eric. Are you and Tara leading boychik astray? Heh, heh.

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

Josie,

I am not bad. Just refusing to enter my bed that I laid out in my post for all to see ... alone. So many I am being bad.

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

Ha! Astray? I think not... Ivan is a grown man...smiles

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

Eric,

You need a delicate hand in your life... one that can respect your writing and you.

eric1313 said...

Tara

We are a lot alike. I hold back only what isn't yet comfortable for me to write about, but in an effort to avoid sad subjects, I will write anything about love and lost love. And yes, I too have gotten in trouble. Like I said, the decision to be serious about persuing writing really caused some heartache. But I love it. And I reap some lovely comments. I'm glad I've been accessible to so many, and touched so many hearts.

eric1313 said...

Josie

Maybe! Were giving Ivan a workout, and trying to break a hundred responses without really trying.

It's fun just to write and talk openly.

The more the merrier!

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

Eric,

It is wonderful to read what people have to say... good or bad. And I would have to agree we are alike.

Writing is my way out. My way of saying, "Hey you, Can you feel this"? I love it.

ivan@creativewriting.ca said...

Funny how the ghost of Robert is somehow in keeping with part of tonight's theme, i.e. the Stones matching him: All My Love's in Vain.

Josie,
I can't keep up with these kids.
Doormouse over the keyboard, nodding. :)

Ivan

eric1313 said...

Tara

Yeah, when I first started writing on the blog, i was a bit over sensitive to the bad. But that's OK. I was over sensitive about faces coming by and not coming back, sometimes.

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

Ivan.... smiles... go see my bed... it is on my breathe beautiful blog....

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

Eric,

100 no problem I am getting my second wind and I am filling with words that want to shout. I am in need dangit, will you listen!?

eric1313 said...

Tara
I'm all ears--and a blaze of finger tapping out messages.


Ivan
Robert Johnson is truly with us. And the Stones, too, know some great music and how to pay homage to the great souls out there.

ivan@creativewriting.ca said...

Oh-oh,

A really bad teacher at Ryerson U once said that Ivan was all ability and no judgment...did a number on my brain for months and months till I hit the real world at the Toronto Star.

Folks, I'm really going to have to do a doormouse.

You three keep on rockin'.

Like the Scotsman said,
"Fok me, what time is it gettin' to be?"

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

Night Ivan. Rest well and dream easy for love has not forgotten you.

Josie said...

Eric, I think it's fabulous. That's what Ivan likes, is some intellectually stimulating conversation. You and Tara keep him company.

I've been out for dinner, I'm tanked, and I'm going to bed. I expect to get up in the morning and see 200 hits here.

Ha! Love it!

eric1313 said...

Good night, Ivan

Thanks for sharing your space with us youngsters. And keep fighting the good fight! You're abillity is it's own judge. Yes that does make sense--I think it does, anyway. That's why I said it.

Now me, judgement is in my glove compartment and I forget about it all the time.

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

Night Josie lady. Rest well.

eric1313 said...

Thanks, Josie

As a great blogger friends says to me,
"we'll keep writing on the walls until we get it right"

Good night!

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

Eric,

Still around? I think it would be interesting to do something together. Sort of a pass a long piece of poetry.

What do you think?

eric1313 said...

Still with ya, Tara!

ivan@creativewriting.ca said...

Raise a final glass to Tara, Josie and Eric.

Rock on, guys.

Good wine, but I think the old guy just crappped himself.

(Must be some small animal that died on the balcony," says the neighbour. Hee!)

This is kinda sudden, but I'm thinking of that highway sign on the Autobahn: FIREFART.

I gotta FIREFART outta hare.

I think I am drunk!

Rock on!

Bring 'er up to FN 99--Friggin' near a hundred!

Ivan

eric1313 said...

I'm always for that. Don't try too ard and let the lines flow. I need to make a rest stop in a second, so don't mind if I'm gone a bit.

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

You are a night owl as well....

i think I am going to write a few lines and then send it to you and see what you had and back and forth... sound like a plan?

Our styles are quite close ...

eric1313 said...

Night, Ivan!

Hundred? We passed that awhile ago!

eric1313 said...

That's what I love to do. Ohter's always help the inspiration.

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

Eric,

No problem. I will have to grab a drink as well. How do you want to do this... Here or in emails?

eric1313 said...

Any way you want to--I have a slow connection right now, waiting on high speed.

Ivan might not mind us grafitting up his blog, but a blog is the best thing for it, then we can look at the over all shape of the poem best.

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

Eric,

Are you back yet?

eric1313 said...

I'm here with you.

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

Eric,

Let's start this tomorrow. I have a fresh set of writing I am going to write down while it is still in my head.

Should I email you, or do you want to let know when you will have time?

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

Eric... check email...

eric1313 said...

I'll check my email out now...

I just slammed a huge cup of sugar and coffee!

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

Eric,

I have finished my last red wine, I only had three. Thats amore than usual. But I feel fiesty tonight.

I feel romantic and I have unleashed what I have kept hidden. This should be good.

eric1313 said...

I look forward to reading it, Tara.

Don't waste that feisty feeling; let the words go like antelopes running the savanah, like tears for lost loves...

the words are shooting stars and they carry all of your wishes to the horizon, millions of miles out of the void; you never knew what they were until they arrived and then you realized you knew them all along because they were the song your heart sings to you when you lay down to dream of what lies instore for you.

The words are love, comet tails and all. They knew you and that's what brought them on such a sweeping journey across the trackless expanse of a heaven that gave birth to all life...

Somehow,
the laughing gods
or we alone
created love
and then it was good
for what is love
but a ray of light
from the infinity
that once
and yet always was.

ivancreativewriting.ca said...

Whew.

Sunday Mornin' Comin' Down.
But I look at Eric's last note to Tara here and say to myself, wow.
Pure poetry in prose and in verse.
How expessive, metaphysical the young.
I think we should all have been in a coffee house in California, where so many poets are. Well, no need to save the poetry fro the coffee house. Had it all right here. I'll be checking Tara's blog
to see what you guys had done.

Mornin'.

Ivan

benjibopper said...

wow, people gottalot to say.

i like the rhymer better. i have no problem with rhyming poetry. it just took me a few lines to get into weepy, but when i did it was a fun little ride.

yours just gave me some directions and told me you had an ego.

but to be fair, it's no worse than anything i wrote in college, in fact it's probably better. i think we were all a bit whiny and longing to be tortured at that age, without knowing the consequences of pain.

ivan@creativewriting.ca said...

Pretty honest response, Benji.

Some economics profs liked my ego poem back then.
Economists have egos?

I do agree with you that Judy Thomson's entry was more like real poetry.

Ivan

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

Morning Ivan.... or should I say afternoon.

ivan@creativewriting.ca said...

Good afernoon, Tara.

I am hung over and out of tailor-made cigarettes--so what else is new.

I have put a new post up, and I fear that it sucks canal water.
Again, what else is new.

My excuse is that "we" had been drinking all night and I had a hangover--I really was into the sauce!

Hope you are having a good day.
My family situation seems to be improving and that, finally is good news.
And good news to get your e-note.

Ivan

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

Ivan,

I am glad to hear the family situation is getting better. Things work out in the end, yes?

::I'm stealing one::: Is that alright?


Soft love,
Tara

ivan@creativeweriting.ca said...

"It was a dark and stormy night..."

Ivan

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

Is that a no?

Which attempt and from whom should I read of this Bulwer-Lytton line?

Tara

ivan@creativewriting.ca said...

er,

Whom are you?

(I only got as far as night school, but I'm getting betta).

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

Ivan,

You love the chase... but do not it too close.... shame.

I am going to send you something... wonder if I will get a response...::wiggles nose::

ivan@creativewriting.ca said...

Migawd,
What time is it getting to be?

I missed the cocktail hour.

...Going off the air for a bit.

Cheers

Inside our hands, outside our hearts said...

Okay Okay, loud and clear.

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