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!
Inevitable
It's inevitable
I'll leave you with a memory
I can't imagine
I don't want to imagine
Sigh
What it will be
Inevitably.
When
When your
Memory of me expires,
Comeback around,
I'll renew you're library card.
Concrete
Domesticated,
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.
DolphinWords
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 ways...so 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 have...next 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 learn...as 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'...in fact I did, came prepared and thoughtful...so,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 do...it was just four lines...in the pic one can seen my steel pen nib effort!...spent much of the afternoon studying manga dragons...want to illustrate the four lines...it'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 groups...one 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 study...book 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!
:)
DavidDavid
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