September, The New Daily (W Rite Wk 1

The Daily (W) Rite

 

Wk 1 

Sunday, September o1, 2o13

It's a Sunday. The very first day of September, 2013. I've decided the language 

I speak, that I grew up learning is not enough to express the poetry in me. To be honest no one language works. So, I 've decided to create my own language. I suppose that's what all writers do . . . create out of the language they are familiar with a new language, images and rhythms to express that individual experience of being alive . . . or dead. It's not good enough to just see the world differently . . . there has to be a way of saying it that's different from everyone one else. Individuality can't be expressed fully without recreating the means of expression. So, A new adventure. Something to keep my mind busy. Creating a new language and form for my poetry . . . and, perhaps, my way of writing all together.

Monday, September o2, 2o13
Went to Walmart to get food today. Called for a taxi to take me there and it took them fifty minutes

to come and pick me up. Did my shopping, all the time watching how much I spent. $1,188.00 a month is not a lot to live on . . . pay rent . . . buy food . . . cable, phone and internet bill. So I gotta be careful with money buying what I need and NOT what I WANT . . . all the time. Anyway, did the shopping ( I try to get about a month's worth of groceries at a time.) and call the cab up from the return desk at Walmart. And they said twenty-five to 30 minutes before they could hall me home again. It was an hour and eleven minutes before the cab got there! During my waiting time I just watch people come and go from the South entrance. People are sort of funny. Most of them don't smile. I don't think they're mad. I just don't think it's natural to smile . . . just for the sake of smiling. Something has got to make you smile, I think. It's more natural to frown. I'm sure you've heard that old wife's tale: It takes more muscles to frown than to smile? I think that's Bullshakalaca. When we smile we're fighting gravity . . . except of course when we are standing on our heads and smiling! So, okay, maybe it takes less muscles to smile, but it takes MORE effort too. That's why people don't smile when they are just going to Walmart. They are saving their energy for something they'll need it for later. And what do they plan to do with that extra energy?  . . . THAT I don't know.

Tuesday, September o3, 2o13,
I'm flat-lining as a poet these last few days. I don't know. I just can't get my mind in the right mood. I've been reading some other writers I've never read before, and they are really, really good poets . . . and that's making me falter. Look at this one I just discovered after seeing the movie, The Sessions:
http://www.poetryfoundation.org/poem/245460

Wednesday, September o4, 2o13
I gotta run away for awhile. Something I need to do. I'll be back later on today. But Let me build a little intrigue. I only got maybe 2 hours of sleep tonight. Oh, yeah. Basically, I'm running solely on coffee fumes. More later.

Friday, September o6, 2o13

Okay, I failed to get back to you. Please don't be too upset with me. Yes, all my plans to get to bed early and get up early AND do some work during the day instead of late at night . . . All that just went to hell. I'm back to staying up until six in the morning . . . sleeping in until noon. Sigh. Not good for me. So, I'll give it another try. Need to get my bio-clock a ticking at the same time as my creative clock. I don't know if that makes any sense or not. The problem is I enjoy the early mornings(2 AM to 6 AM). It's quiet, dark, a good time to shut off the TV and pump up the radio (Not too loud. The neighbors would get pissed.) and just write, or work on pictures, or just stare out the window. I love nights. I have always loved nighttime. Oh, last night I was looking through my pics that I worked on for my poetry and ran across this one (on the left there) which is titled Shadow Land. I developed it for an old poem that I meant to rewrite and post on the web page. Never got around to it. That happens sometimes. A poem, an idea gets lost, and sometimes you find it . . . and sometimes it just stays lost. Maybe I'll break it out and work it a little. I really love the way this pic came out. Hope I can get the poem up to speed . . . this pic needs a good poem to go with it.