Tonight I stumbled upon the poems of Charles Bukowski. I was looking for a poem to include in this post and found one I really liked. Then I found another which my amazing Writing Professor in college had read at the beginning of a couple of different classes. So I decided that I would use one of his poems for this post and spent way too long reading poetry by Charles Bulowski, and I love him. In a one writer to another sense, of course. I also began a list of poems for my next poetry anthology which I am sure I will have to compose next time I take a class with said writing professor. He always makes his students hand copy fifty poems as a final project for class.
As a result I am writing this post from my phone, which is a lot harder and can't be very good for my thumbs. Not to mention I am so tired- my brain is fuzzy- and my head is spinning with poetry.
Today was a rather emotional day, packing always brings me down for some reason- even if I'm packing my sister's stuff and not even my own. Plus long distance relationships of every kind are hard, and sometimes I feel the distance more than others. Not just my boyfriend, I can feel how far away my family and friends are as well.
Thank goodness for writing friends who will show me ridiculous cat pictures and talk about poetry with me and for sisters who make strawberries and pound cake for dessert and boyfriends who stay up later than planned to make sure I'm smiling. It's hard to stay sad with people like this in my life.
Yesterday I was up at six to volunteer at a bike race, handing out water, energy drinks and snacks to the participants as they biked past. I have no idea why that was so much fun, but I had a blast. Not to mention breathtaking mountains on every side and that sweet Colorado smell of sage and damp dirt. I love this place.
We also tested out my sister and her husband's new car by driving up a mountain pass and getting to go four-wheeling up a mountain. Again with the beauty. Then I got to play with a baby, daughter of a couple my brother in law works with while at a party.
I just completely lost my train of thought and have no idea where this post was going. I think it's bedtime. I'm sto recovering from these stupid allergies that always turn into sickness and asthma for me, so more sleep is always good.
Ah! I almost forgot the Bukowski poem I ranted about in the first paragraph. Here it is:
As The Poems Go
As a result I am writing this post from my phone, which is a lot harder and can't be very good for my thumbs. Not to mention I am so tired- my brain is fuzzy- and my head is spinning with poetry.
Today was a rather emotional day, packing always brings me down for some reason- even if I'm packing my sister's stuff and not even my own. Plus long distance relationships of every kind are hard, and sometimes I feel the distance more than others. Not just my boyfriend, I can feel how far away my family and friends are as well.
Thank goodness for writing friends who will show me ridiculous cat pictures and talk about poetry with me and for sisters who make strawberries and pound cake for dessert and boyfriends who stay up later than planned to make sure I'm smiling. It's hard to stay sad with people like this in my life.
Yesterday I was up at six to volunteer at a bike race, handing out water, energy drinks and snacks to the participants as they biked past. I have no idea why that was so much fun, but I had a blast. Not to mention breathtaking mountains on every side and that sweet Colorado smell of sage and damp dirt. I love this place.
We also tested out my sister and her husband's new car by driving up a mountain pass and getting to go four-wheeling up a mountain. Again with the beauty. Then I got to play with a baby, daughter of a couple my brother in law works with while at a party.
I just completely lost my train of thought and have no idea where this post was going. I think it's bedtime. I'm sto recovering from these stupid allergies that always turn into sickness and asthma for me, so more sleep is always good.
Ah! I almost forgot the Bukowski poem I ranted about in the first paragraph. Here it is:
As The Poems Go
as the poems go into the thousands you
realize that you've created very
little.
it comes down to the rain, the sunlight,
the traffic, the nights and the days of the
years, the faces.
leaving this will be easier than living
it, typing one more line now as
a man plays a piano through the radio,
the best writers have said very
little
and the worst,
far too much.
realize that you've created very
little.
it comes down to the rain, the sunlight,
the traffic, the nights and the days of the
years, the faces.
leaving this will be easier than living
it, typing one more line now as
a man plays a piano through the radio,
the best writers have said very
little
and the worst,
far too much.
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