 |
| [HOME] [POETRY] [GUEST BOOK] [RAMBLINGS] [STORIES] |
 |
| Dream A Little Dream ... |
10/07/02 - Feeling a bit literary today ... It began at work this morning. It was quiet. I brought a book along with me hoping it would be quiet. It was quiet. The book is White Oleander, by Janet Fitch. Yes, there’s a current movie with this title. But, I seldom get to the movies. I’ll happily read the book. The first line starts out: The Santa Anas blew in hot from the desert. Have you ever been in a Santa Ana wind? I have. It took me quite a while to get past that line since it brought up memories of visits to my Grandmother’s house in Southern California. Actually, the time we got caught in the Santa Ana winds was when we were at Grandma’s, for her funeral. My Grandma was the one who got me started on journaling. She kept diaries all her life. There were many Santa Ana wind entries in her diaries. They were memorable to her too. I got through 25 pages at work. I’m going to like this book, I can tell. However, I found myself criticizing it a little. Yeah, I should criticize a bestseller! It was more a matter of my taste. I’m not big on metaphores. Oh, I know I should be, writers should be. But whenever I try to compose one, it sounds kind of forced, or strange. Then I read these: We stared out at the city that hummed and glittered like a computer chip deep in some unknowable machine, holding its secret like a poker hand. Or: Her beauty was like the edge of a very sharp knife. Huh? I prefer sentences like these: I rested my head on her leg. She smelled like violets. Simple, huh? Oh the book is good, the writing well done, and she certainly makes good use of language. That’s why I prefer books to movies ... the use of language. Later today, I spent a great deal of time visiting some journal sites online that I hadn’t been to for months. With the move, and getting settled in, there just wasn’t time. I read the sites with much interest. I observed each writer’s use of language, their language. Each is different. They write what they feel, just as I write what I feel. I like that. However, I noticed upon close examination, that many of these sites are way more into journaling than I would ever want to be. The sites look very professional, lots of graphics, fancy do da’s like forums, chats, webcam’s, etc. They were impressive, for sure. But that’s not me. My journal is just part of my writing. Working on an intensive web site would take away from my other interests, short stories, poetry. I thought about hi-lighting a few of the journals I read so you could see, but I decided not to. Someday I may get into it more and actually make a page of links to journaling, and other interesting sites. Not today. In fact, I started feeling guilty about all the time I spent doing literary stuff and forced myself to take a break for reality. I did good. I washed the dishes. I washed the kitchen floor, which is four times bigger than my old kitchen floor was. And, then I went outside and fertilized the lawns and plants. Wow, I can hardly believe my energy! It’s definitely a sign that I’m feeling better! |
 |
| This is the poetry of Guillaume Appolinaire. I'm sorry I couldn't find a clearer sample. I'd love to find one so I could actually translate the poetry. I love this. It's what you call a Caligramme. A poetic picture using words. |
| Come to the edge he said; We are afraid they said. Come to the edge he said; They came. He pushed them; and they flew. ~ Guillaume Appolinaire |