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I saw the sun rising. It was shining. I stopped

  • I saw the sun rising. It was shining. I stopped and saw the sun rising. Rising and shining. The sun was rising. So bright so shining.
  • I wanted to call my poem "The Shining", but it evoked the wrong connotations. I passed over "Rise and Shine". It sounded like a radio program. Finally I settled on "Nucleosynthesis
  • ," as I knew that this would suggest notions of creativity, organization, ingenuity, and newness. These were the kinds of things that I wanted to convey within my new poem.
  • It's said my poems are clichéd, incoherent, boring, pointless, whiny, cacophonous & like being served a crusty pair of pants found in a dumpster. You decide. I wrote this today:
  • "Jack and Jill went on a straight path turning at Heathrow to get onto M25, I met them at 8:25. Why? Try." By post-modern deconstruction of nursery rhymes, I introduced banality to
  • the otherwise simple and gratifying art of killing a poem. In my father's time, poems were killed with hammers and hacksaws, but today, we use more refined techniques like
  • putting them in retirement homes and forgetting to visit. A poem is like that saying about the tree falling in the woods. If nobody ever reads it, does the poem actually exist?
  • I tried to deny their existence for a long time but when my 90-year-old mother showed up at my door yesterday with 3 of her friends from the nursing home & said they were moving in
  • to my bathroom I had to put my foot down. Not this time mother! "Norman!" she shrieked. I hated my mother. I loved my mother. I smiled at her, "You can stay in the basement."
  • I was tired of wiping soul crumbs off of her mandible after she "fed", but I needed someone to do the accounting around here. "Normy, Marion's soul was scrumdiddlyumpcious." Ugh.
Started
2013-05-26 15:48:28
Finished
2013-05-28 15:13:29

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