Saturday, September 24, 2016

OTI:one poem and notes:9/24/16

Open To Interpretation


Locked in
He sat in his silo
With his missile too
For a decade
Or two
Until one day
He got in the shower
Forgetting he still had his clothes on.
And they took him out,
"What about my missile, too?"
"Not to worry,"
They consoled,
"You still have the one in your pocket."


Notes: Missile...a desultory effort!...the Proofs came!...and I spent all day correcting...I knew all along what needed doing, but needed to see the Proof...I have the same thing happen when I post...first in the editor, then I 'proof' by uploading, and seeing it on the web...I could try to do all the edits before that first upload, but it doesn't seem to work...I mean, it might take forever to get a post up without any edits needed!...I just noticed that back away I transposed some header dates, like 9/6/16 for 6/9/16...I'm a frustration...I'm amazed at how professional word processors get along!...anyway, I fixed things up in the little play, Women Can Do No Wrong...currently I can think of one period missing, and for some reason I can't center the book cover's from Creative Space Publishing's template, and the text wraps right back to the left margin no matter if I space bar move it more towards has to be more to center, as in the Proof, it is too close to the spine, and gets folded up in the bend...sigh...but it is all back in their court now, and when I can, I'll order more Proofs!'s a back and forth...making a book made me think of sending up a rocket, hence 'Missile'...ral...



Friday, September 23, 2016

OTI:five poems and notes:9/23/16

Open To Interpretation


Behind this microphone
Just see me as a skeletone,
Just think it's Halloscream,
That animated scene
With all those dancing skelomoans.


Oh, from that buried gang,
It's a constant harangue,
They're constant strum and drang,
We didn't boomerang!


I write cartoonish,
What can fit
In buffoonish.

Lines and Words

I could stretch things out
Longer lines longer words
But then the kids would shout
We're not fucking nerds!


To get in Bodie's yard
You only need
A one word ID card:


Notes:...more I think about it, more I'm leaning to getting even simpler...I'll leave the complexity to the 'notes'!...Behind...stemmed off from one I don't like...brb...


They all want to be priests
Behind a microphone
Behind a megaphone
And they all think their saints
Behind a badge
Behind a gun.
I got no time.
For that religion
Behind a wall.
It never ends well.

...see?...that's getting complicated!...I got to thinking of being a skeleton behind the microphone, you know, stripped down of any affectations, and made a dance macabre, a term I learned looking up the old cartoon, Silly Symphony Skeleton Dance, and wiki's take on it...there's a couple old Roman mosaics been found of skeleton is juxtaposed with food and drink, the sentiment being live and be merry, death is near...that's a common's the underpinning of every violent horror story...anyway, Halloween is coming up, and I fiddled with it...Buried...started with 'harangue'...of late, I feel I'm being harangued by just about everything...but I was getting no where, and so went to the rhyming dictionary, found strum and drang, and boomerang...hmmph...I should just hang out in the rhyming dictionary!...Balloon..a deprecation...Lines...a push back at Ginsebergians!...reference Ginsberg's 'long breath lines'...ID...reference ghost town Bodie...likely a replica...meaning somewhere somewhen something similar written...actually, there's a kind of hope in not being individual/original...that sentiment for sometime!



Thursday, September 22, 2016

OTI:one poem, notes, four drawings:9/22/16

Open To Interpretation


They're loading their drums
And instruments
The trunk,
All their car's doors
Wide open.
I'm parked beside
In the parking garage
And see I'll have to wait a bit.
"You're a band!"
I find a perch
On the low cement wall.
They're beginning to crawl
"Do you know the band
Shiny Toy Guns?"
"Never heard of them."
"Rock and roll band."
"We play jazz."
"Oh, you should hear them!"
They look at me
Like I'm from an alien race,
And they're from outer space.
I'm humming along
To Major Tom.


Notes: it happened...frustration level very high trying to think up a dragon...sometimes in reading a web page I land deep in the text from a search, and don't know my, so, I'm reading, author is making the case that Pterodactyls were still about in historic times, and points to examples in old art...people were seeing Pteros, but, not having drawing skills, were depicting them poorly...was making a kind of sense, but then the author brings forward his notion that human beings coexisted with dinosaurs, and my hands fly off the keyboard and flap!...dinosaurs would have eaten all of us, in a day!...anyway, I sat down with a blank Bristol board pad page, and tried...Maya, my dog, looking make a Black Dragon...there is a lot of discussion about dragons, every nuance and subject is how many legs...I just assumed two...but then in my searches, I realized four...never gave note to how many legs dragons have, and I've seen as many as everyone!...thinking on four, I realize nearly all the dragons portrayed aren't aerodynamic...a quibble...I'm not going to sit in the theater and shout out, 'that thing can't possibly fly!'....the 'willing suspension of disbelief'...anyway, I like the idea of Ptero Dragons...and having looked a lot at birds, I went with two legs...have to study bird legs and claws...long legs...realized as the drawing progressed, see below!, that I want the Black Dragons to have really long legs...big oversize claws, webbed somehow...a long crest that flares out when they're excited...a tail, not long, like the diamond shape of Pteros at the end...a kind of steering oar when they swim...a not too long neck, and small head...and feathered with big big wings...all black with dark red highlights on the crest and tail...and big...sketch has Petra on Pet's back...thinking on this, I realize the Black Ship tale is a manga...all along I've been 'seeing' it as panels in a comic all I have to do is work at manga drawing for a couple years!...and I'll have it!...I don't know what I did with my Hokusai book...need to get another...his work is considered the early beginning of Manga...have to rethink the tail...why did Ptero's have a tail like that?...brb...


Many, if not all, pterosaurs also had webbed feet.

end quote

and they had something like feathers, 'pycnofibers'...I must have known that...ral..



OTI:six poems and notes:9/22/16

Open To Interpretation

Book Dog

Oh no,
No, no,
No books
From me,
I eschew.
It would be like you
Took home a book dog
From my book dog litter.
A book dog from me
Will poop and pee,
Wobble on your knee,
Chew right through
Everything you see!


It's inevitable
I'll leave you with a memory
I can't imagine
I don't want to imagine
What it will be


When your
Memory of me expires,
Comeback around,
I'll renew you're library card.


Most have concrete
Overlaid their wild things.
My friend
Bowls me over
Each time we greet.
She's friendly
With claws and teeth
For skins unsheathed.

Me In Charge

With me in charge
We'd all be crushed together
At the intersection.


I send myself mail.
I send myself you.
Mailbox is stuffed,
But nothing from you.


Notes: Well, I rolled over to OCPC (Orange County Poetry Club) Wednesday night gathering later this time, and things were in progress--open reading, one after another... the place, the venue is perfect...two long rows of picnic benches together--somewhere to set one's stuff, write, take notes, set food and beer, which is served inside...the tables are outside, between two walls, sort of a narrow canyon, open to the night sky...overhead across, stage lights hanging from a girder that spans from one wall to the other...a microphone on stage...and the tables are long, so people way in the back are just folks with food and drink from the eatery inside...they listen or they don't...okay both there's this kind of fountain blend from inattention to attention right up to the microphone...I didn't scribble names down in my notebook...should time...on the table are Creative Space Publishing books, all for ten dollars...seems to be thirteen authors and counting...master of ceremonies runs the show, and just how this has all come about a tale to some of the poems read were profane and edgy which usually businesses want no part of...venues are hard to find for poetry readings...I sat and listened, and time permitted more than were getting up, so of course I got asked, to fill the time, which I expected, and came prepared with one on paper, though on my iphone is everything!...and some were reading off their phones, some from their books, or another's book. and, of course, no one had anything memorized...I thought to escape though without reading mine, but was arm twisted kindly by the  few remaining towards the end...I had taken an iphone photo of the poem I wrote in Isa's book, as the book/Isa requests, see pic...I wanted to show her the pic...'see, I did my homework' fact I did, came prepared and,so, I got up, tap tapped the microphone, 'hello hello', introduced the notion of writing of the poem in Isa's book, which won appreciation...they all seem to know one another...and read the poem...almost made it 'pop'...I could be real trouble with a microphone...and all of that is what I don't want to was just four the pic one can seen my steel pen nib effort!...spent much of the afternoon studying manga dragons...want to illustrate the four's the Dragons Roar chorus...looking for caves, looking for dragons...the manga artists are so good at what they do...and they all seem to submerge in the manga look...much as Disney artists submerge in the Disney animation look...modern manga, I learn from wiki's take, began at the end of WW2, and Disney animation a big influence...easy to see!...manga artists work in group of Japanese girls born around about 1949 worked together...I was born in 1948...curios to see their effort...for sometime...poems up were written this afternoon--meditations on the evening peril!...oh, the proof copies of Women Can Do No Wrong, my little Greek play, from Creative, is 'shipped'...expectation of shipping was arrival next Thursday, but maybe it will come sooner...nine bucks, two copies...oh, I bought another OCPC published book, with author's signature...thought is to buy one a week, and give each a week of has a grim title, Murder Your Muse by Sanbud Tehrani, but it's the usual poet sweetness inside, and Sanbud's scruffy appearance when he reads belies his command of words and their editing--neatness!...I assume he made the file to upload to Creative's template...I'm assuming everyone goes through what I did with my play...I'm listening to the poets, but studying how the books are made...time was I studied the poets!



Tuesday, September 20, 2016

OTI:five poems and notes:9/20/16

Open To Interpretation


Watching the steel nib masters
I curl into a fetal
Not the calligraphers
The ones that draw
And tell those tales
Row on row
On the bookstores' shelves.
I scratch with my steel nib,
Make my runes
That no one can decipher.


I was relating another
Of my homely dilemmas
I have many
To have you maybe smile
To one of my story flirts
You went off
Adding lines
Sometimes thin
Sometimes wide
Sometime light
Sometimes heavy
Sometimes dark
Sometimes heavenly
Sometimes sharp
Sometimes soft
Sometimes straight
Sometimes curly
Embellishing my story
From sad to funny.
I'd relate what you said
But it's
Two lines crossed!

Human Being

Being a poet
Isn't like
Being a master calligrapher.
It's like,
It's just being
A human being.


I stubbed my toe
I want you to know.


Making poems
You should be sitting at a desk
Not resting on your side.

You say.
Look at all those reclining Buddhas!
My answer!
That's just an excuse for being lazy.
You say.
Yes, I answer,
But a good one!


Notes:  I'm took all day...I was going to let it go, but thought to look for a Word play template...there's fussed, and got it into the template...have changed the name of the little play from Zeus to Women Can Do No Wrong...and then found in my download file that Creative Space had sent me their I figured out how to select all in Word, ctrl a, and ctr c copied ctr v pasted it from the Word play template into Creative' didn't fit of course...back and forth, back and forth, from 'interior review' to my word file...finally just deleted the character list, that text was over the margins...carry over format from the downloaded template...didn't really need it...ruins the play as story, checked off 'interior', went back and got 'cover' checked off, and filled out the online federal tax thingy, that checked off...everything green!, now I wait...some real eyes will eyeball it, and, I think, ask if I want a proof copy sent...I think there is a small, I'm on my hands was almost as tough to do as uploading from the discs, WOW, World of Warcraft, and getting the game to work!...have that task to do soon as I have funds for the new expansion!...but now I know how Creative Space Publishing goes, and I'll be in the swim at the OCPC gathering, where they all look to have one of these little self published books!...oh, I added too the dialog of Hippolytus and Phaedra from a month or so back...didn't change a word, so it is out of rhythm, but it has its own which kind of fits...H and P come across as real in contrast to the kind of mechanical, some literally, figures in the play...I put the dialogs just before Artemis enters...oh, I need to put the play in the blog now, all in one piece!...but I'll wait until I see the booklet's progress...I was going to work with the steel pen today, and take some pics of the effort, and the poems were for that...maybe I can do more tomorrow, and the pen too...I have to try a script...there's free download script templates too!



Monday, September 19, 2016

OTI:one poem and notes:9/19/16

Open To Interpretation


There are no traffic lights
In the air,
The birds fly everywhere.
We roll and skid
In the churning grid.

Organized, me?
I can't imagine.

Can happen
In a moment.
Change takes awhile.

I'm a mess?
I'm a mess,
You're right.
No way
I could ever win
A custom car trophy,
Even if our lives depended on it,
And they do.

I'm not.
I can't
For long.
With practice,
Maybe long enough.

I'm not the only one who's a mess,
And that's not an excuse,
Rather an observation.
Just look at the laundry mat I go to.
It's a mess in a messed up corner strip mall,
And the pool hall next door,
Where I practice pool while the clothes wash,
Is old, beat up, run down--a dive--
Someday, with my once a week practice,
I'll run the table,
Like I fold my cloths
Washed and dried.

You don't want to look inside my car,
Give me a chance.
I'll put the passenger seat back in,
There's still room for Maya, my dog,
In back with the back seats gone.


Notes: Being observed you're not neat is a bit like being told you got some tummy wants to strike back, I'm not, I'm not...but there it is, there or there...and one never wears it, or it, well...and they're related, being overweight, not being neat...anyway, 'neat' covers a lot of things...I've been practicing writing with a speed ball metal nib pen, the small one...steel pens are like the old quill pens I handwriting isn't very neat...neatness is 'fractal'...just how neat one is kind of permeates every thing one does...and it's a struggle to write out four lines of poetry with the steel pen and India ink...when I get one copy right, I'll post a pic...but the little pen's scratches are very pretty, each letter, each part of a letter, distinctive...with a ball point pen, or felt, or fine tip, there's a loss of the expression in the steel pen's writing...and, of course, typing, using the computer, there's none at all...I'm trying to figure out how to make an autograph, in both those senses I, an author's work in their own handwriting, and two, their signature...there's a real contrast between  handwritten books done with quill, steel pen, brush, and such, and mass produced mechanical printed books...and, I'm trying to make a Creative Press Publisher book...these are those books you make online through amazon...I'm using the play, Zeus, for it...I'm finding it very hard to do!...the biggest problem now is that the text I wrote it in, on the iphone, sent to Yahoo mail, copied to blogger, and copied from blogger to Creative's template, runs into the different text format problems...I almost got there, but it's like there are hidden 'artifacts' in blogger's text format, which I would think is just the old ASCII, and Creative's, which is Microsoft Word based...I didn't have Word, but I downloaded that last night, late...and copy/pasted Zeus into rich text Word, which I think, gets made into pdf format...from pdf,  Creative can make the books they make...thought here is, to have a 'pdf' word processor, and a pdf template all at Creative, and you just go to that and write and edit on line...but they don't let you write from scratch online...???, if I can get the rich text using word into good shape, they will accept it...the copy I sent up last night, got partially just didn't get turned away like when I upload blogger's text format...but I'm waiting for full acceptance, and then I can maybe edit in their can't do anything simply with computers...the evolution of word processing has been cobbled together...I haven't messed with Word for a long time...I get along fine with blogger's tools...but with Word, I can't even find line spacing...and the spacing is getting thrown off by the formatting by blogger...I think...even blogger's spacing goes awry when I post from editor to the blog! wonder I'm a mess, being surrounded by one!



Sunday, September 18, 2016

OTI:two poems and notes:9/18/16

Open To Interpretation

Balls And Chains

We drag around our
Balls and chains.
It's not like you think,
Not our spouses and such,
Our eyes,
And our optic nerves.
We can't get enough
Of seeing you.
We're a sorry crowd
Rattling our chains,
Hobbling ghosts all
Wanting to be real

Dragons Roar
(Dragons In Our Caves)

Around the fire
In an encampment in the Conifer Forest,
Petra settled in with her
Black Ship Crew.
Pip, with his concertina,

There's a dragon in my cave
You make me sing and roar
There's a dragon in my cave
That wants to be with yours
See our dragons wave
Together they'll sing and roar
There's dragons in our caves.

The crew joins in on the chorus:

There's dragons in our caves
Together we'll sing and roar!
There's dragons in our caves
Loud as the oceans' roar!

Black Dragon Pet
Sat disconsolate,
Black Dragons can't sing
But Pet was delighted to listen
And add her roar to each roar...
"Sing this please,
At the Midnight Flowering!"
Pet's request.
The crew around the fire
We're in like a dome
Of hellish illumination,
The wide columns
Of the tall trees,
Their shaggy bark red against the blackness,
Between the trees,
Black shadows
In the forest's blackness
Began to appear--
Eyes fire lit glowing,
Gathering near.
Pip and the crew continued singing,
Closer to the fire moving,
Ned, Watteau, Madeline
Adding their verses to Pip's.

There's fire in the night
See our dragon's fight
There's thunder in the night
Hear our dragon's might!


There's a dragon in my cave
That likes to misbehave
There's a dragon in your cave
That wants to be my dragon's slave!


In Volcano Never
My dragon is dreaming
Snoring and steaming
In Volcano Never
Your dragon is dreaming
Rumbling and heating.


From Volcano Never
Black smoke the sky clouding
From Volcano Never
Red rivers o'er the earth snaking.


Over all of Nevermore
Black Dragons all dreaming
Over all of Nevermore
Black Dragons all snoring
Rumbling and steaming
Over all of Nevermore.


My dragon is waiting
For winter soon melting
Your dragon is waiting
For the Midnight Flowering.


Pet roared to one last chorus,
Then couldn't contain herself.
Pet Grabbed Petra in a claw
And hovered above
The startled crew around the fire.
"Follow us to Volcano Never!"
Petra said, as Pet flew off!
"But," Pip protested,
"There's more..."
"Grab your gear
Grab your instruments!"
Ishmael said.
The crew,
None to pleased,
And unnerved,
Took flaming sticks from the fire
To light their wending
Way through the
Dark menace of the Conifer Forest
Back to the Black Ship.


Notes: from Black Dragon Lore: at the Equinox the Black Dragons of the Northern Reach celebrate the Midnight Ceremony...the retelling of the Spring and Summer events, and the memorial for those fallen...the Black Dragons of the Southern Reach celebrate the Midnight Flowering...this to say, when it is Fall in the North, and Spring in the South...when otherwise, things are reversed...ral...was looking for a 'handhold'...with 'Flowering' found it...changed 'Midnight Ceremony' to 'Midnight Flowering' in the first verse...and 'ocean waves' to 'oceans' roar' in the chorus...Pet wanted more roaring...updated Balls And Chains...'my' to 'we' and 'ours'...reads okay both ways...