All day long I was planning to blog if I could just get a moment, but now….
Archive for the ‘elephants’ category
Too Late For Blogging
March 2, 2012In Honor of Past Winners (Oscars with You Know What)
February 27, 2012I didn’t watch much of yesterday’s show, but the nostalgic aspect, the self-referential aspect, the plain old movie aspect reminded me of some oldies but goodies. (Sorry, if you’ve seen these before–)
In between your daily elephants, please please please check out, my comic novel,NOSE DIVE, book of poetry, GOING ON SOMEWHERE, or children’s counting book 1 MISSISSIPPI. Pearl, below, likes Going on Somewhere, but Nose Dive is only 99 cents on Kindle.
Late Night Drive
February 16, 2012
Late night drive. No blogging! Luckily, I wasn’t the one driving. (Poetic license in drawing.)
Lone Poet’s Love Poem -“Castaway (Retrieved)”
February 14, 2012
Castaway (Retrieved)
When he’s away,
she sleeps sideways, lolling
in a sunken corner of
the bed where
gravity weighs
heavy, computer serving
as splintered
guard rail. Sometimes, in the
sway of blue-light
wavelengths, she’ll send out
messages as if in bottles
that can swim, the words
protruding fins, defined and
sleek, above glassy surfaces.
Other times, the words tie themselves
into knuckled knots, as if
love, stranded by
the fraying self, could weave a net that,
when thrown upon chopped
waters, captured a
salvageable catch. (Not
typically.)
But if, in the end, she can collect
the strands, solitude
takes flight, net acting
as its own safety, the knots points
of engagement, syllables frolicking, the
bed’s entire coverlet
afloat. She will call him then,
reading aloud, and he will say,
that’s beautiful, and the words–his/hers–
cannot be said to hold her, but will
lap against her brain, a susurrating
companion to the ebbed night’s sleep.
(As always, all rights reserved.)
The above a sort of lone poet’s Valentine’s Day poem–posted here for all of you who have been kind enough to follow and support me throughout the last couple of years, and the wonderful dVerse Poets Pub Open Link Night.
Friday Flash 55 feeling bedraggled before dinner out
February 10, 2012
Not looking one's best
Going Out To Dinner Straight From Work (Not Ready)
As a child of the sixties, a child
of a child of the Depression, it is hard
to feel deserving of a dinner at
a fancy restaurant, even if
paying for it,
without running home first
for a shower,
freshly-washed hair. Eating
out requires
clean hair, at least until
a first glass of wine.
(I’m going to tell it to the G-man. AND while you’re at it, check out NOSE DIVE , comic novel bargain on KINDLE and AMAZON.)
Diabolically busy week continues….
January 25, 2012
apace.
A Novel(ing) Day – the wonders (?!?) of computers and drafts
January 23, 2012
Yesterday was a day of working extremely hard to meet a noveling deadline. (A contest.)
It is very difficult to meet a noveling deadline in a single day.
In my case, the attempt was made because I happen to have a few old manuscripts squirreled away. They include very rough drafts as well fairly polished drafts–a couple are of novels that I once took very seriously, but for some reason or another–i.e. rejection letters–set aside.
Unfortunately, even the once-polished novels have gotten fairly rough over time, as after enough rejections, I would inevitably begin re-writing them and would not always get to a new re-polishing.
I’ve known about the deadline for a while, but could not decide which manuscript I could bear to focus on until 6 a.m. yesterday. (Revisiting an old manuscript can be a bit like meeting up with an X–quite painful until you settle down and just have sex.) (Note to husband–this is a joke.)
One of the wonders of a computer is that you can save a zillion drafts, some of which improve your work, some of which may just be little experiments, fits of pique.
Oops! Did I call this a wonder of the computer?
How about I wonder how this draft is different from that one? I wonder what happened to that draft in which I did such and such. Most of all, I wonder why I never stuck to a system for all this stuff.
Still, I finally got down to brass tacks, and managed, through the course of many hours, to totally fry my eyes. And, yet, not finish the revisions. (I’m less than half way through.)
I console myself with the fact that I would not likely win the contest anyway. And then I think, maybe the last half is, you know, fine as is. (Ha!)
(P.S. – in the meantime, please please please check out my last book, fully polished: NOSE DIVE, a very silly escapist novel available on Kindle for just 99 cents, and in paperback for only ten times more. It really is quite fun, and now has a very kind review from Victoria C. Slotto.)
How Time Flies–In a Flash 55– (Ready, Set!)
December 30, 2011
“The new year is coming! On your mark, get set–”
“Wait a sec, I’m not quite ready.”
“The new year is coming! Ready, set--”
“Wait, I say–”
“Wait, you say?!”
“Yeah, wait, I’m not quite ready yet.”
“Oh yeah? And who asked you?”
“You did. You said, ‘the new year is coming, ready, set–’”
“GO!”
(Here’s my flash fiction 55, and I’m going to tell the G-Man all about it.)
Have a great weekend (and a happy new year.)
Contrast/Villanelles/”Villain-elle” (With Watercolors and Elephants)
December 22, 2011I am a great lover of villanelles. I am reposting “Villain-elle” today because it illustrates an important tool in villanelle writing: contrast.
Contrast in poetry, the subject of a thoughtful prompt by Victoria C. Slotto for dVerse Poets Pub , is a useful tool for effects in all poetry, but it is especially useful in the repeating, and potentially static, lines of a villanelle. Contrast in a villanelle can come through changes in meaning, homonyms, enjambment (the breaking up and running over of lines), elephants. (Note that I tried to put the lines of the poem in the drawings but they are incomplete and blurry so I’ve put them below each drawing, and the full poem below that.) (I am also linking this poem to the poets’ rally.)
He twirled his ‘stache when he thought no one could see
and kept away from rope and railroad track,
for a cartoon villain was not what he would be–
what he sought was originality.
Wearing a hat that was not quite white, nor black,
he twirled his ‘stache when he thought no one could see,
until the day he met that Miss Bonnee,
whose single smile made all his knees go slack.
Though a cartoon villain was not what he would be,
she steered him to a classic robbery,
a bank heist with a gun, a car out back,
He twirled his ‘stache when he thought no one could see,
but see they could, if only digitally.
She whispered, as she relieved him of the sack,
that cartoon villain was not what he would be,
“my hero,” and other murmured fiddle-dee,
till his bent head received a good hard whack.
She twirled her stash when she thought no one could see.
A cartoon villain was not what she would be.
Here’s the poem without elephants!
VILLAIN-ELLE
He twirled his ‘stache when he thought no one could see
and kept away from rope and railroad track,
for a cartoon villain was not what he would be–
what he sought was originality.
Wearing a hat that was not quite white, nor black,
he twirled his ‘stache when he thought no one could see,
until the day he met that Miss Bonnee,
whose single smile made all his knees go slack.
Though a cartoon villain was not what he would be,
she steered him to a classic robbery,
a bank heist with a gun, a car out back,
He twirled his ‘stache when he thought no one could see,
but see they could, if only digitally.
She whispered, as she relieved him of the sack,
that cartoon villain was not what he would be,
“my hero,” and other murmured fiddle-dee,
till his bent head received a good hard whack.
She twirled her stash when she thought no one could see.
A cartoon villain was not what she would be.
HAPPY HOLIDAYS!
P.S. If you like humor, poetry or elephants, don’t forget to check out my books NOSE DIVE, GOING ON SOMEWHERE and 1 MISSISIPPI on Amazon. Thanks much.
P.P.S. = Accidentally dropped “Whack” painting from first posting of this. So sorry! (Kind of tired when posting but had a nap now!)
Mag 95- “Futility-Ha!” Mired in Schadenfreude, With Elephant
December 11, 2011
When I saw the photo prompt of Tess Kincaid of Magpie Tales this week–a wonderful painting/photo of a swimmer partly buried in sand, my brain filled instantly with heavy poems. But in the midst of a sun-filled walk, silliness came to mind, and, true to nature, I opted for that:
Futility-Ha!
The fledgling surrealist, mired in schadenfreude, built his
scene with greyed hues and competitive passion–
Take that, Dali, with your dribble of melting clocks, your
self-referential facial hair; your stinking thrown arched cat–
He sniffed.
And you, de Chirico,
forget the portentous shadows–he darkened
the outlines of empty rowboat– that grandiose
trapped geometry, I’ll
show you Futility.
A moment bent towards the palette,
milking color. What he sought was
the suggestive but mysterious, just a touch
of squeamish–wrinkles in caught
flesh: I’ll put my oar in now, ha ha!
(The tenor of that laugh was getting worrisome, thought the
studio assistant, scurrying for more turp.)
A person chest-swallowed in sand, a nearby boat, parked
boat, sober waiting
boat– So much for Rimbaud–dab dab–(a muted blue
that should be steel filled the inner keel)– and it will be my passenger
who is sunk
and not the ship; the actor, the observer both, an
image to get stuck from
shore to shore-–
To turn up the volume (as it were),
he bared the dim-pale back, turned shoulders
to swimmer’s rounds,
sculpted with cylindrical precision (but unclear
detail) a bathing cap.
Profundity, eh! he grinned, the assistant quietly
checking the studio door–sometimes he locked it
from the inside–
And you, Magritte! How do you like
them apples?
P.S. A few side notes: the creator of the true image (without elephant) is Mostafa Habibi, who, to the best of my knowledge, has no beef with Salvador Dali, Giorgio diChirico, Arthur Rimbaud, or Rene Magritte, all of whom I admire greatly.
P.P.S. – if you like silliness, please please please check out my new silly, but fun, teen novel, Nose Dive, by Karin Gustafson, illustrated (terrifically) by Jonathan Segal. On Amazon. When you’re there–take a look at Going on Somewhere (poetry) or 1 Mississippi (elephants). Thanks much!
ManicDDaily 
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