WREATING
Consultations with creative writing majors have made me realize that the best advice anyone can give anyone else who wants to improve as a writer is : READ. Many of the problems the beginning writer faces stems from an incommensurate love of one's writing over the love of reading. If you can't imagine losing sleep over a book of poems, or spending an afternoon surfing the net for ALL the poems of your favorite writer, or having the necessary gall to, if not be better, then at least MATCH one's favorite poems, then maybe you should stop writing. Only a rabid sense of appetite will ensure an equal obsession with making and creating. Above all else, PLEASURE. If we do not know what makes us laugh, how can we ever EVER even think of eliciting the same kind of riotous laughter in other people.
To find oneself, one must erase oneself.
What's YOUR favorite poem?
posted by slowmotion @ 1:15 PM
3 comments
3 Comments:
THE BLACKBIRDS ARE ROUGH TODAY
by Charles Bukowski
lonely as a dry and used orchard
spread over the earth
for use and surrender.
shot down like an ex-pug selling
dailies on the corner.
taken by tears like
an aging chorus girl
who has gotten her last check.
a hanky is in order your lord your
worship.
the blackbirds are rough today
like
ingrown toenails
in an overnight
jail---
wine wine whine,
the blackbirds run around and
fly around
harping about
Spanish melodies and bones.
and everywhere is
nowhere---
the dream is as bad as
flapjacks and flat tires:
why do we go on
with our minds and
pockets full of
dust
like a bad boy just out of
school---
you tell
me,
you who were a hero in some
revolution
you who teach children
you who drink with calmness
you who own large homes
and walk in gardens
you who have killed a man and own a
beautiful wife
you tell me
why I am on fire like old dry
garbage.
we might surely have some interesting
correspondence.
it will keep the mailman busy.
and the butterflies and ants and bridges and
cemeteries
the rocket-makers and dogs and garage mechanics
will still go on a
while
until we run out of stamps
and/or
ideas.
don't be ashamed of
anything; I guess God meant it all
like
locks on
doors.
until we run out of stamps!
(yes :) )
ikaw, ano'ng paborito mo? at, mehn, ili-link, kita, a.
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