Sun dried jerky of your past
Lies heavy on the stomach-heart
Grumbles, protests, lingers
Long, long after cactus
Uprooted by a desert mountain
Has withered, blunted tines
No longer barbed
While jerky past still grumbles
Lies heavy on the stomach heart.
Lie still and watch
Lantern sun swings overhead
This banner day
Sliver moon salutes from darkened sky
Take heart. Take heart. Take heart.
Move the grumble upward to a song
To tines’ decay
Take heart take heart take heart
While dormant hidden succulents
Await return of desert mountain
Cloud burst flood
And full moon rises.
Jack Purcell, From Poems of the New Old West, copyright 2003, NineLives Press
Jeanne’s back reporting to two jobs most days, 0730 through 2100 either in transit to jobs, or working. But believe it or not, she’s barely getting by financially. Next lifetime I’m going to devote some time trying to figure that out. Meanwhile, she’s lucky to have work, I reckons. Jack
Jeanne Kasten Studio
Hi everyone, thanks for coming by. I’ve not been in the mood for blogging for quite a while, but lately I’ve considered posting again with less text, sticking to more photos. I’ll see how it feels.
I promise not to post the 1500 photos I took when I went to Washington and Oregon in July, but if the mood strikes, you’ll see a few. I did quite a few collages over my break, and got some really great stuff in mail exchanges, so maybe I’ll show some of that. Instead of trying to showcase my gel pen art, I’ll probably use this blog as a place to post creative work of all kinds.
At the beginning of July, I was invited to show some art work at a friend’s open house. She called it “Christmas in July.” It turned out to be a showcase for party plan products of various…
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Hi readers. Thanks for coming by for a read this morning.
Jeanne tells me November’s going to have several thousand people grinding out first drafts of immortal prose again. Poor old Universe will be ducking and dodging new characters, events, plots, subplots, trying to keep track of what’s really happening, and what someone dredged up from the imagination and stuffed into 50,000 words packed into the month of November.
I’ve wondered about this phenomenon for a longish time, several years, and honestly can’t quite figure it. Probably tens of thousands of November novels written in past years nobody but the authors ever laid an eye to all the way through. Pages, electrons on the screen, characters floating around in the ether wondering what the hell happened, why their pent-up events just ground to a halt.
All I can figure is those people doing that are trying to shoot down the Universe and know it’s going to take a lot of ammunition.
If a person were looking for a worthy project that would be less likely to damage the Universe he might consider taking the JRR Tolkein Lord of Rings trilogy and working it up into a second draft, which wossname, Tolkein failed to do. At least not the part about say, cutting about 2/3 of the extraneous immortal prose, working it around so it’s tight, a pleasure on the tongue of the Universe, rather than just something out of some fast food joint.
Maybe someone everyone does what he says will think of this sometime and tell them they ought to do that instead of picking out targets of opportunity trying to shoot down the Universe.
Posted in 2013, America, Books, Writing
Tagged Books, culture, Education, Human Behavior, humor, Life, lifestyle, musings, philosophy, psychology, society, sociology, thoughts, writing
An absurd, grotesque dis-assembly
Will waltz across Florida nimbly:
Plebes and Patricians
And news statisticians
Will celebrate parodies grimly.
Posted in 2012, America, limericks, Politics
Tagged conventions, culture, elections, Florida, Human Behavior, humor, Life, limerick, limericks, philosophy, poems, poetry, politics, psychology, Reading, society, sociology, writing
While a peasant ponders
An insect in amber can last
Long after its species is past:
Urge you to clamber
Avoiding the amber
And eat extinct plants for repast.
Posted in 2012, limericks, Poetry
Tagged creative writing, culture, economy, Human Behavior, humor, Life, lifestyle, limerick, limericks, philosophy, poems, poetry, politics, psychology, Reading, society, sociology, survival, writing
The role-models offer a clue
While naming only a few:
Bush, Reagan, [post-Dallas]
And Billary’s palace:
Spit polishing won’t make it new.
Posted in 2012, limericks
Tagged creative writing, culture, due process, government, limerick, limericks, philosophy, poems, poetry, politics, psychology, society, sociology, writing
Minnie Mouse can be open-minded
And wabbits can sometimes be blinded
By synthetic passion
Of this or that fashion:
Uncle Scrooge accepts plastic! [Reminded!]
Posted in 2012, Creative Writing, Human Behavior, limericks
Tagged adult, art, creative writing, culture, Dante, Disneyland, entertainment, family, fashion, film, Human Behavior, humor, Life, lifestyle, limerick, limericks, Little America, Minnie Mouse, philosophy, poems, poetry, psychology, society, sociology, travel, Uncle Scrooge, writing