my flight consisted of two recordings of a teaching on ephesians… ‘it’s not about you’ keeps echoing through my headphones… even after i put the headphones away & realize i’m better than i deserve to be… it’s still not about me…
Month: October 2009
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A guy walks into a bar with a slab of asphalt under his arm and says, “A beer please, and one for the road.”
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i hate it when i confuse social media platforms & post something on facebook that was supposed to be on twitter without aggregating it to tumblr & wordpress & blogger is so 2004 but people still use it…
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ok, second airport actually has some decent jazz music piped into the terminals… can’t make it out, but it sounds like either woody shaw or warren vaché…
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why is that airports have such sterile sounding jazz playing from the terminal soundsystem?
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thanks for the lunch suggestions… i found 2 apples & coffee for less than $0.75…
language matters… language is not merely descriptive. it’s creative.
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i’m down to $0.75. what can i get for lunch with $0.75?
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dare i live blog this writing workshop?
Coffee at Albiani’s: A Poetry Workshop
Every morning at 6 a.m. the young Donald Hall would walk to an all night cafeteria, called Albiani’s, order coffee and work on his poems until 8 a.m. Following the Poet Laureate’s example, we’ll meet for two hours a week and work on poetry (coffee is optional). Open to students of all writing levels. This is a generative workshop and focuses on various writing exercises. Additionally, class members will be encouraged to submit two to three poems for inclusion in a class chapbook which will be published at the conclusion of the course. Each student will receive a copy of this chapbook.
Classes meet Tuesday evenings (Oct. 13, 20, 27, Nov. 3, 10) 6 – 8pm in the library at the Phil Mechanic Building
A Jackson Pollock video
(Source: http://www.youtube.com/)
The man, the artist… Jackson Pollock…
(Source: http://www.youtube.com/)
Reading the dictionary
I was reading the dictionary. I thought it was a poem about everything.
Steven Wright
(via sharlala)
(via thomasfitzpatrick)
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Finished my first fartlek in the rain. Felt good, but it took longer than I thought. Maybe it’s my music mix. The last few weeks I’ve been listening to Gasoline Heart’s Cucumber Riot & recording pretty decent running times. Today I had an iTunes mix playlist that included: The Mooney Suzuki, Michael Franti & Spearhead, Sophomore, The Whigs, Juliana Hatfield, Sons and Daughters, Dolores O’Riordan, Tullycraft, & The Hold Steady. As much as I like Juliana Hatfield & Dolores O’Riordan, I think they slowed my pace.
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haven’t read shampoo poetry in awhile… this is a good reminder…
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yes, it’s sunday morning… last night’s bonfire was brilliant, the moon bright white… still not enough coffee open my eyes…
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the great harvest moon rises tonight… it’s time for a bonfire under the red oak tree… i can’t recall the last time i say a full moon, let alone the harvest moon, on this date… think i’ll celebrate by composing sutras with fire…
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she was going to take me to raleigh for the u2 concert & then we found out how much tickets & hotel & kidlinger-care will cost… i think we’ll be real extravagant & celebrate at dunkin doughnuts…
Don’t take poets seriously
We don’t take [poets] seriously; we don’t think that poetry can move people to do passionate things. But poets did. Poets could change cultures. Before there was so much contest for people’s attention, poets were the ones who literally brought the news from one place to another, walking from town to town, which is how we got everything to be iambic and memorable and rhymed and metered, because the tradition was oral before it was literary.
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these sketchbooks were unearthed not long ago while i was looking for a poetry book by robert pinsky. i used to carry these sketchbooks around everywhere & drew constantly.
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listening to an excellent recording of fierrabras, an opera by schubert
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the cupboards are empty. the only thing for breakfast is oatmeal. i’m not complaining. could be worse… could be that the only thing left is grits…
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woke up this morning with the alice in chains song man in the box running through my head & the memory of loading an alice in chains cd into a denon dual drive dj cd player at wtpt on a sunday morning… that was a long time ago in a city far, far away…
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restaurant hostess: hey, there.
me: afternoon…
restaurant hostess: wanna booth?
me: yes, please… for one.
restaurant hostess: will a booth in the back work? i know you usually sit over there. (sho points to a section just off stage right.)
me: a booth in the back will do.
restaurant hostess: it’s always nice to eat at a place where every one knows ya, isn’t it?
(i smile & almost make a reference to cheers but stop — i realize that the hostess was probably born when woody harrelson joined the cast.)
Coffeehouse Junkie 