Lit blog

[normal jean]

I am leaving in about an hour to go to work. I will be working as a pipefitter at the new Target Distribution Center that is being built in Lake City, Florida.. Don't know how long it will be, hopefully it will last to Christmas.

bye ya'll

 

[TheRainMan]

I am leaving in about an hour to go to work. I will be working as a pipefitter at the new Target Distribution Center that is being built in Lake City, Florida.. Don't know how long it will be, hopefully it will last to Christmas.

bye ya'll

travel safe, j.

 

[annaswirls]

Whoa! That happened so fast! It is a good time of year to be heading to Florida....hope it is an inspirational journey!

I am leaving in about an hour to go to work. I will be working as a pipefitter at the new Target Distribution Center that is being built in Lake City, Florida.. Don't know how long it will be, hopefully it will last to Christmas.

bye ya'll

 

[annaswirls]

Fall


To the parents of (auto fill from data base
of kids like mine)

We are required to inform you
(or else we probably wouldn't)
that based on his/her present skill level
(you know him, you know him, you live
with him why are we telling you this)
that you son/daughter
(love of your life, miracle, burden)
is in danger of failing
failing failing failing the standards
for 3rd grade reading

let me tell you about dreams
and not knowing where to start
with the "let's not pee on the wall
or in the public gardens" or what is a penny?
can he be taught to count ice cream money
if we do it every day every day? can we dream
of making change? or how about
"what is your name" so when they find you
shrieking for your favorite toy
out the door after the stranger just missing the car
the car the car! do you know
your mother's name
do you know your mother's name
what is your mother's name?
she is probably looking for you

we will search for you by the color of your shirt
by the motion of your hands
by the indicators of your illness
(we saw it on Larry King last night,
read it in People we will look for the signs)

and we would like to reassure you
that we are doing everything we can
to remediate, get your child
up to grade level
remediate remediate
(but you, yes you
there among the spilled cereal
on the sofa, clothes stained, you do not need to worry
yours is the exception,
we were required to send this letter
do not worry, Mother alone,
we never expected him to pass
so he will move along
move along
move alone
we promise to try
to keep him comfortable
happy, quiet, pointing along with the
three letter words
he can do that, we saw
yes, he can do that still
while the others... you know...
but we certainly would not expect...
but you know this
why this look of surprise?
did you forget his numbers
don't really count?)

 

[unpredictablebijou]

To the parents of (auto fill from data base
of kids like mine)

We are required to inform you
(or else we probably wouldn't)
that based on his present skill level
(you know him, you know him, you live
with him why are we telling you this)
that you son/daughter
(the love of your life, miracle, burden)
is in danger of failing
failing failing failing the standards
for 3rd grade reading

let me tell you about dreams
and not knowing where to start
with the "let's not pee on the wall
or in the public gardens" or what is a penny or how about
what is your name so when they find you
running for your favorite toy
out the door after the stranger just missing the car
the car the car! do you know
your mother's name
do you know your mother's name
what is your mother's name?

we will search for you by the color of your shirt
by the motion of your hands
by your diagnosis

and we would like to reassure you
that we are doing everything we can
to remediate and get your child
up to grade level
remediate remediate
(but you, yes you
there among the spilled cereal
on the sofa, clothes stained, you do not need to worry
yours is the exception,
we never expected him to pass
so he will move along
move along
move alone
we promise to try
to keep him comfortable
happy, quiet, maybe reading books for 4 year olds
but you know this
why this look of surprise?
did you forget his numbers
don't really count?)

anna, that is beautiful and heartbreaking.

thank you
bijou

 

[WickedEve]

I am a failure as a slut.

I was asked to wear something slutty. I went through my closet. I went shopping. I mixed and matched tops and bottoms. The best look I could achieve was slightly sexy, a little classy. Oh, sluttiness, where art thou? Come to me!

I've tried to be a slut and a bad girl. Oh, sure, there's that tied to a tree thing that Tzara mentioned in his "me thread" but that was in some little forest and only the squirrels got to watch. I'm talking about putting in some public slut time. I've tried bars and porn shops. The drunks, the karaoke wailers, the stoner beside the dildo claw-machine, they've all given me that look. They can smell the lack of slut in me. I am a lame wannabe.

"My god, what is that?!" Since he met me, Hugo has spent at least a thousand or more on toys and bdsm paraphernalia. Most of it horrifies me. I dread tonight when I meet the new paddle. One side is like sandpaper. He actually told me it felt like sandpaper. Why? What in the fuck is he going to sandpaper? My ass is smooth like skin. Honestly. File my nails with that paddle! I understand nails.

I will paint my nails a shade called bonbon kisses. It could take me all day to do it. Darn, I bet evening will come and I'll still be polishing that last nail. It's looking doubtful if I'll ever make it out of town tonight. I should stay home and practice my slut exercises--walk with my legs spread wide. Is that slutty? I really don't know.

 

[annaswirls]

anna, that is beautiful and heartbreaking.

thank you
bijou

thank you bijou, I can never tell if broken hearts convey when I write or if it is just me because it is mine

 

[WickedEve]

we never expected him to pass
so he will move along
move along
move alone
we promise to try
to keep him comfortable
happy, quiet, pointing along with the
three letter words
he can do that, we saw
yes, he can do that still
while the others... you know...
but we certainly would not expect...
but you know this
why this look of surprise?
did you forget his numbers
don't really count?)[/QUOTE]

It's easier to right about my failures as a slut than it is to write about Katy's autism. What you wrote made me cry. She gets moved along in school. They say she can learn but they can't slow down for her. They move her along. I want to scream. She got her report card yesterday. It was pretty good, until they made it clear that this were "special" grades. She was being graded on what she can do--in her own special way.

 

[Angeline]

we never expected him to pass
so he will move along
move along
move alone
we promise to try
to keep him comfortable
happy, quiet, pointing along with the
three letter words
he can do that, we saw
yes, he can do that still
while the others... you know...
but we certainly would not expect...
but you know this
why this look of surprise?
did you forget his numbers
don't really count?)

It's easier to right about my failures as a slut than it is to write about Katy's autism. What you wrote made me cry. She gets moved along in school. They say she can learn but they can't slow down for her. They move her along. I want to scream. She got her report card yesterday. It was pretty good, until they made it clear that this were "special" grades. She was being graded on what she can do--in her own special way.[/QUOTE]

Eagleyez and I watched Rainman (movie, not poet) the other night. I had taught emotionally disturbed teenagers for about a year. One of them was severely autistic and it struck me how spot on Hoffman was in his depiction of that character. The boy I worked with was no savant but absolutely locked in his own world. You could get flashes of the person in there--a very sweet-natured and funny person--and you could connect with him at times, but mostly he was far away. This boy gets good care and will the rest of his life because he can't function in the world without help. Outside him and his world of caregivers very few understand. He is an orphan--his parents gave up on him for various reasons and have no contact with him. He longs for parents and it makes me realize, hard as it is to parent a child like this, that all love, any love, is worth whatever you suffer internally to give it.

 

[annaswirls]

It's easier to right about my failures as a slut than it is to write about Katy's autism.

Hey I wrote a poem kind of about that too over the summer


it starts when they tell you
"your child is broken"
first you deny the cracks
then you hide in them,
escape their blame-eyed glares
from the produce aisle where his illness
seeps through the cart
leaving another thing to clean up
another thing to slip on

it starts when they tell you
"you are broken"
you wind up in stranger’s room
you start to look for things to hold together,
things to control
things to fix
things to make whole

we sit kama sutra style
on his bachelor bed
like the pornographic king and queen
playing card I found on the street in philadelphia

legs stretched out I stay dressed
I find his oils
his spaces
as his face becomes my own
my fingers hold his pleasure
I break him down
time his release
and my movements mean something
immediate
accurate

it starts when they tell you
"your child is broken"
you find anything that promises
to let you have control
then you take it
you take it

What you wrote made me cry.

She gets moved along in school. They say she can learn but they can't slow down for her. They move her along. I want to scream. She got her report card yesterday. It was pretty good, until they made it clear that this were "special" grades. She was being graded on what she can do--in her own special way.

I feel your pain, sister I feel your pain, and Katy is so high functioning and smart. I am sorry I made you cry, I try to write inspirational pieces but sometimes I just gotta let it out The people who work with him are good people, they are, and I do believe they love him, I hope what I wrote did not come across as spiteful to them. Sometimes I just want to think him being happy and with people who care for him is "The best that we can hope for" but then I go on hoping for somehting more and that is when it hurts.

 

[WickedEve]

I feel your pain, sister I feel your pain, and Katy is so high functioning and smart. I am sorry I made you cry, I try to write inspirational pieces but sometimes I just gotta let it out The people who work with him are good people, they are, and I do believe they love him, I hope what I wrote did not come across as spiteful to them. Sometimes I just want to think him being happy and with people who care for him is "The best that we can hope for" but then I go on hoping for somehting more and that is when it hurts.[/QUOTE]

Katy's special ed teacher calls me at home sometimes, and she tells me that Katy is her favorite, even though she isn't suppose to have a favorite. She knows that Katy is smart and there is so much there, if we could just get past some of the barriers.
My biggest thrill, recently, was a football game. This year, both of my girls are cheering for little league. Katy is now off most of her medications and she's actually doing better. The school wanted her doped. I never did. It was a mistake. Katy knew her cheers, shouted them out, shook her pompoms. Sure, it didn't last long, but for a brief moment she was "normal" Katy. Then she got a little burned out and sat with me and I was fine with that. I've learned to appreciate the little things.

 

[Angeline]

Hey I wrote a poem kind of about that too over the summer


it starts when they tell you
"your child is broken"
first you deny the cracks
then you hide in them,
escape their blame-eyed glares
from the produce aisle where his illness
seeps through the cart
leaving another thing to clean up
another thing to slip on

it starts when they tell you
"you are broken"
you wind up in stranger’s room
you start to look for things to hold together,
things to control
things to fix
things to make whole

we sit kama sutra style
on his bachelor bed
like the pornographic king and queen
playing card I found on the street in philadelphia

legs stretched out I stay dressed
I find his oils
his spaces
as his face becomes my own
my fingers hold his pleasure
I break him down
time his release
and my movements mean something
immediate
accurate

it starts when they tell you
"your child is broken"
you find anything that promises
to let you have control
then you take it
you take it





I feel your pain, sister I feel your pain, and Katy is so high functioning and smart. I am sorry I made you cry, I try to write inspirational pieces but sometimes I just gotta let it out The people who work with him are good people, they are, and I do believe they love him, I hope what I wrote did not come across as spiteful to them. Sometimes I just want to think him being happy and with people who care for him is "The best that we can hope for" but then I go on hoping for somehting more and that is when it hurts.

It's good you recognize the love he gets from the people who care for him. When I worked with my buddy I was astounded by how much of themselves people give to care for and challenge the kids to do more. The boy I woked with loves Karate but was afraid to go to a class for it. With a lot of support he now goes and even competes. It's probably the best thing in his life.

 

[WickedEve]

It's good you recognize the love he gets from the people who care for him. When I worked with my buddy I was astounded by how much of themselves people give to care for and challenge the kids to do more. The boy I woked with loves Karate but was afraid to go to a class for it. With a lot of support he now goes and even competes. It's probably the best thing in his life.

Katy's cheerleading coach is full of life and pretty much nutty. She's great with Katy. I keep looking for things for Katy to do. She likes to sing and dance. That's my next project.

 

[LeBroz]

My biggest thrill, recently, was a football game. This year, both of my girls are cheering for little league. Katy is now off most of her medications and she's actually doing better. The school wanted her doped. I never did. It was a mistake. Katy knew her cheers, shouted them out, shook her pompoms. Sure, it didn't last long, but for a brief moment she was "normal" Katy. Then she got a little burned out and sat with me and I was fine with that. I've learned to appreciate the little things.

I applaud your efforts with Katy. There's probably nothing more wrenching for a parent than to raise a normal child that won't respond. I was recently moved by recent news stories with Jenny McCarthy and her autistic child and the approach she tried with a dairy/wheat free diet; where the meds failed, the diet saw amazing changes. But no matter the approach, it's parental love and support that helps the most — a truly heroic effort. Best of luck with your efforts.

 

[WickedEve]

I applaud your efforts with Katy. There's probably nothing more wrenching for a parent than to raise a normal child that won't respond. I was recently moved by recent news stories with Jenny McCarthy and her autistic child and the approach she tried with a dairy/wheat free diet; where the meds failed, the diet saw amazing changes. But no matter the approach, it's parental love and support that helps the most — a truly heroic effort. Best of luck with your efforts.

I know that anna, like me, fights for her child. There are some good parents on this forum. Even if your child doesn't have problems, it's hard enough to be the best parent you can be. It's kind of like it's all trial and error. You keep learning. The kids learn too. Yesterday, we were in the parking lot, walking toward the store. Both kids were acting up. I showed Hanna my frustrated mommy face. "See the face, Hanna?" She yelled at her sister, "Behave Caitlin! Don't you see momma's face?"

 

[annaswirls]

I know that anna, like me, fights for her child. There are some good parents on this forum. Even if your child doesn't have problems, it's hard enough to be the best parent you can be. It's kind of like it's all trial and error. You keep learning. The kids learn too. Yesterday, we were in the parking lot, walking toward the store. Both kids were acting up. I showed Hanna my frustrated mommy face. "See the face, Hanna?" She yelled at her sister, "Behave Caitlin! Don't you see momma's face?"

Thanks Eve You are an awesome Mom. I do not know how you do it all. I have not painted my nails in months.

Sometimes I feel like I do little else beyond advocating for both kids and doing what I can to give them a healthy happy childhood and education! We had a terrific morning, riding scooters around the neighboring college campus (with fountains!)so so so so so happy! and then picking an entire basket of pecans. It is important to remember to celebrate the simple joy daily living (and cheering, dancing!) in addition to all of the therapy, countless hours of tutoring and preparing lessons, etc etc etc....

We tried the diet, LeBroz, did nothing for him, but we do a lot of dietary supplements that really really help him! All his little playgroup buddies are on the Gluten/Casien free diet. Every kid is different, and my typical kid can be just as much of a challenge if not more on most days. The best thing about having a typically developing kid was
it pulled me from self-pity because having a "normal" kid is hard as hell and just as heartbreaking.

But they are BOTH absolute love bugs who snuggle and cuddle and fawn over their mom (when they are not being busy being absolutely angry with me for my expectations ) (Insert stern Mommy face which O thinks is hilarious) I do not feel sorry for myself anymore for having a special needs kid, it has been the biggest wake up call in my entire life. In a good way

 

[LeBroz]

Thanks Eve You are an awesome Mom. I do not know how you do it all. I have not painted my nails in months.

Sometimes I feel like I do little else beyond advocating for both kids and doing what I can to give them a healthy happy childhood and education! We had a terrific morning, riding scooters around the neighboring college campus (with fountains!)so so so so so happy! and then picking an entire basket of pecans. It is important to remember to celebrate the simple joy daily living (and cheering, dancing!) in addition to all of the therapy, countless hours of tutoring and preparing lessons, etc etc etc....

We tried the diet, LeBroz, did nothing for him, but we do a lot of dietary supplements that really really help him! All his little playgroup buddies are on the Gluten/Casien free diet. Every kid is different, and my typical kid can be just as much of a challenge if not more on most days. The best thing about having a typically developing kid was
it pulled me from self-pity because having a "normal" kid is hard as hell and just as heartbreaking.

But they are BOTH absolute love bugs who snuggle and cuddle and fawn over their mom (when they are not being busy being absolutely angry with me for my expectations ) (Insert stern Mommy face which O thinks is hilarious) I do not feel sorry for myself anymore for having a special needs kid, it has been the biggest wake up call in my entire life. In a good way

You show exceptional wisdom in your response to your child's needs. All I'd add is that every person is different. There's no one-size-fits-all solution in anything, including a person's diet. Most people benefit from vacines, but some die. I used to get flu shots & ended up bed ridden with the flu; I stopped getting them & stopped being bed ridden with the flu. Go figure.

I'm appreciative of the way people here share some of their problems. One result of that sharing is that I was able to finally figure out what was happening with my vision when I'd periodically see flashing sparkling light that would make it difficult to see. Someone (I forget who) mentioned their vision problems that sounded eerily like mine in relation to migraines. That's what helped me make the connection that just before I experienced my vision problems I'd experience a wimpy migraine — it'd feel like my skull was being squeezed and there'd be a slight throbbing sensation, but not intense pain usually associated with a migraine. Within a few minutes the lights would hit. The odd thing is that I might experience this problem 2 or 3 times in a month and then not have them happen again for a couple years. Go figure. The only scary part was having that happen once while driving.

In the meantime, enjoy your moments while carrying your newest gymnast. Who knows how your new arrival will impact your other youngsters. Should prove fascinating.

.
.

 

[Tzara]

Yesterday, the wyf and I were up in the Skagit at the Museum of Northwest Art. It's a museum I quite like, as it's pretty small (so you don't get fatigued walking around it) and it's focused on (duh) my region's art. Goodness, far as I'm concerned.

The current exhibit is of some guy whose art I've liked for years. Like, oh, twenty, twenty-five years. He works primarily in encaustic, which is a notoriously difficult medium. His pieces typically end up looking like polished stone, with a simple, geometric image roughly centered in the painting (this is an example). They're quite lovely objects that I think of as resembling artifacts from some ancient civilization.

The thing is, though, he's basically made the same painting for thirty years. The colors change, of course, the centered shape is different, the size and shape of the "canvas" (actually linen mounted on a wood panel) varies, but one of his paintings from 2005 looks pretty much like one of his paintings from 1985. He sometimes does rather different things—landscapes, some paintings where the images are pushed to the extreme edge of the field, even an occasional sculpture or assemblage—but the bulk of his output pretty much stays the same.

Why does this bother me? They are, as I've said, lovely pieces. They sell (no small achievement in the world of art). They obviously earn sufficient critical attention to merit a museum show.

Yet the lack of change does bother me. It think it's because it makes his work in some ways more craft than art—at least it seems that way to me. It's as if change is a requirement for art. Over time it has to evolve, explore different problems or, at least, explore the same problems in a different way.

There is danger in change, of course. Jules Olitski went from producing his lovely color field paintings of the 60s (like this one) to the banal and ugly work of his late career (believe me, this isn't as bad as some of them are).

I don't know. Sargent spent his entire career mostly painting portraits. Yet that doesn't bother me in quite the same way.

And does the same thing apply to writing? If a poet, for example, is really good at a particular kind of poem is there a problem with him or her essentially reworking it over the years (presumably to an even more precise statement)? I do pretty much believe that most writers only have two or three real subjects/concerns/obsessions and spend their time poking at these from different angles. Is that a problem?

Geez. I'm already missing baseball. Got the old mental masturbation thingie going, big time.

Sorry.

Good day, all.

 

[champagne1982]

On being good

Why does it become a fault
to stay inside your comfort zone?
Isn't an occassional foray
outside those self-imposed
boundaries all we need
to remind us of adventure?
Risk and imminent rejection
are dangerous enough
in work, love and living,
that our masochistic urge
to be less than wonderful
should be satisfied
when served up on platters
of guilt by our mothers.

 

[unpredictablebijou]

***

And does the same thing apply to writing? If a poet, for example, is really good at a particular kind of poem is there a problem with him or her essentially reworking it over the years (presumably to an even more precise statement)? I do pretty much believe that most writers only have two or three real subjects/concerns/obsessions and spend their time poking at these from different angles. Is that a problem?

Hmm. Good question.

Once I asked a shaman if I would ever be done "working through this issue" I have with this one thing. She had helped me struggle through yet another chapter that seemed to force me into dealing with that one issue yet again. It's one of those Issues we tend to have, that we keep running into in situation after situation. Fear, Control, Abandonment, Power, the big stuff like that. Will I ever get this resolved? Will I Finally Figure it Out?

She said this: "It's not a question of being Finished. These things are like diamonds, and we examine them many times, looking at facet after individual facet, and we try to remember that it's all the same stone, from different angles. Once you can see the whole thing, it doesn't hinder you, because you understand what it is."

I do think there's a difference between a one-trick pony and someone who explores a consistent theme or set of themes. I'm not sure, frankly, which category I myself fall into; I suspect it differs from piece to piece.

And then there's this to consider: I will probably write about sex and love and the instincts of the heart and body and that sort of thing until I have nothing else to say or figure out about it. That may be a while, since I keep learning things and Stuff keeps Happening to me.

That and I have the secret goal to write one thing that is guaranteed to take every reader to instant climax. That's the grail. I keep working on it.

Y'all will let me know, I'm sure.

bijou

 

[champagne1982]

Oh Ms. Bijou, please hurry and write me to orgasm!

Me soooo horny!

 

[DeepAsleep]

I got 'honored' ala "Celebrity Roast" a few weeks ago, which was sort of our poetry community's way of saying, "Thanks for all the work you put in, douchebag!" It went as you'd expect something like that to go - "How you know you've had sex with Ross - You're out of cigarettes. You've got a vagina..." Etc., etc., but the best part was people getting up and reading poems that they had written for the event, about me. I was a little blown away by some of the stuff people had to say, when they weren't busy calling me as asshat, or something equally vulgar.

The woman I've been sort of pursuing had this to say, and it's made my month:

On the Occasion of Your Roast
by Diona

Here are two smoking barrels of rock salt
to celebrate your life. Here are party hats
shaped like dunce caps, like klan hoods,
like we are all oppressor and oppressed: we are.
I can't watch.

Here are your hinge pins, you haunted house.
Tonight all the kids come in gawking, but everyone knows
real ghosts can't be seen, so they'll tell sordid stories
about stains on the floor and leave their spiteful
graffiti on the attic windows.

They may not lie, but what they say is not
the truth, either. Here is your tear-gas canister
with a rainbow wig, here are your ribboned flechettes,
your party hats shaped like klan hoods,
like dunce caps; happy birthday, Ross.
I can't watch.

~~~

Other than that: Tired. Sixty hours a week makes me an unhappy man, but I'm in the green for certain. Eleven more months.

On the agenda for the week: Guy Fawkes party on Saturday night. Creating an effigy to burn in the meantime.

Sidenotes: It's nice to pursue a woman that makes me feel calm. She's a little older than me, but that seems to matter almost not at all. Hrmph. Anyhow.

Also: Flickr! you might view my life. You might find some of it neat. I know, some of the photos are overly dark. I need to go back and tweak some contrasts.

 

[Sabina_Tolchovsky]

For Jake

Time is cold
when the leaves fall slowly
beneath a cobwebbed sky,

your skeleton haunts
the architecture of my memory

with clanging bones
and empty sockets.

You crawl out from the merky deapths
of my rotton matter and silted brain.

Break the surface of black mirriored water
where you become the spector

that calls my name
and knows my truths.

I, the secret bearer
for the poison of our demise

with love like a cold quick blade,
took your heart from it's cage.

I keep it under my bed still
and
I never stopped loving you.

 

[normal jean]

hubby and I made it home for the weekend. its been a great job so far. I made my first official fit on a piece of 10 inch schedule 40 pipe. Approximately 50 feet in the air. It really is satisfying to place something that weighs over a thousand pounds in just the right spot and well, it's just a nice feeling of finally having some control over something, anything.

I had good muscles before, but now, it's just scary.

Anna, this part of Florida might as well be Hickville Georgia, an hour from the ocean in either direction. The landscape is very much like what we have here in SC. Mostly sand, lots of varieties of palm and fern, but the birds, all I can say is I have been very pleased. Working on the top of the structure, I get a full view of the pond behind the place, there are 2 small alligators and more bird species than I have been able to count so far. I was gonna write a journal, but forgot and now its too late.


So, I'm working for a Canadian company putting in refrigeration lines. bringing that cold down south to serve an actual purpose

missed you guys. Thanks for the kind wishes sweet Anna and Pat. Wish I could give you both a huge hug.

 

[WickedEve]

Daddy and I look for patches of sun and there is some light, soft over the rounded shoulders and blue hips. Day is slow to come to the valley and November walks must be wrapped in scarves and wool. Old Blue Ridge is greedy, hording sunlight behind her curves, releasing it in small glows.

We must pass through shade that's made by Betty's shack, mostly green but open in its red places -- as if it's a junk checkerboard. The elms and gum trees and hills and houses each craft a frozen scrap of darkness. We move quickly until we're back in the light. Daddy says it's our furnace and we should walk closer to the sun.

~

I want to write about a cold walk on sore knees and swollen toe -- want to write it fairly folksy. But it was a walk. It was a cold one and my knees ached and my Dad's toe was swollen and it was too damn cold to walk the schnoodle.