From: sheila@ccwf.cc.utexas.edu (sheila)
Newsgroups: rec.arts.poems
Subject: (I like that you smile -> Re: Doctors can be right too : )
Summary: brainstorm, mush. brainmush. soggy grape nuts.
Date: 29 Jul 92 00:06:02 GMT
Organization: The University of Texas at Austin, Austin TX

Hi, I am trying to write something, in the meantime, I wrote
this. I want to write a long story. But I always make them
short. I also have a bad habit of making them short and having
too much fun making them sound like some mythic silly tale.
silly as in too serious silly. bad bad habit. Well, I'm pining
for writers' talk, so I am jabbering away.

Do Parden me, this has some really awful phrases in it;
it is merely a pre rough draft, so I excused myself.

here goes:
guess I will say I saved it in a file called "keep"

we have all that heart
we have all that pain
we have all that matted color of the sidewalk that is so beautiful.

we have the shape of all the trees in the world to contend with for joy
we have the rain at each point intersecting an imaginary surface area
diagram of the telephone wires and roof and light poles
we have the sun in parallel rays
we have the word dangle and appear
and we have the center of desire

we have hope, if it is imaginary, ignorance.

bored. verb. empty. absent.

I am supposing nothing.

then I find out the same.

I am tired and tired and tired

my parents need entertainment. 

I am sure there is beauty and joy and peace.

that is why I write and watch my feelings.

I am certainly sure there are bees because I can see one now.
there is light and there are cars and plural and singular and
notion.

I have an idea of music. I don't have a poem.
I have an idea of talking and story telling.
I have subconscious logic.

it keeps waiting to appear.

I keep waiting
I keep waiting to hear it.
I will go now and listen to all the heart rending songs in the world
that I like to sing along with. clear my throat.
a glass throat.
o, there is a flying bug and it is so erratic that I love it.
The bee is still here and very slow,
the other bug flew around and in ovals fast landed on a tree and
is gone.
o, but now I see it again, ha! it is so fast. 
I think I should tell you that it is brown, and not a moth.
other than that, I don't know. Perhaps it is triangular shaped.
Now I see a white fluff. It reminds me of april when I saw (ha! the
bug has a mate now) many, walking near a section of trees in a ditch.
Matt and I would kiss in the grass and get ant bites.
get ant bite, I like how that sounds.
I am not not not a poet any any more.
Now all I do is talk. and make up imaginations.

I must tell you about the state of the ground!
outside my window the grass doesn't grow very well, the ground is
too much in the shade and if you rubbed your hand across the ground
you would be scrubbing it. The ground is separated; it cracks open.
there is a green plastic run off from the roof. and we always have
so many brown leafs. right now they are big.

I will wonder how to make color in a picture like light on a color.
How would you paint sunlight on grass? just add white? It is so
mysterious. 
I will wonder about shades and how to show them.
do you add black or white? is that it?

I will wonder about surface structure and deep structure, I found out
about those becuase I looked up an encyclopedia entry for psycholinguistics
while I was looking up the call letters for Lejaren Hiller's book.

I also looked up attention.

"Attention is the focus of consciousness.  Objectively, it
   entails selecting from all available sensory or memorized
   information certain parts for further processing.  The efficacy
   of attention is measured by the advantage that attended tasks
   have over unattended tasks and also by the ability to resist
   distraction.  Different kinds of attention of differing degrees     
   of efficiency are involved in listening to one speaker out of
   many at a cocktail party, concentrating on the colors of a
   painting while ignoring its forms, searching for an
   acquaintance in a crowd, and keeping one's mind on a problem
   rather than daydreaming.  The fact that one must select implies
   that there are limits to the ability to perceive, think, or do
   several things at once."

I see why I have so many problems. But I've already written a poem
about that a long time ago.
-- 
stark raving sane!   sheila@ccwf.cc.utexas.edu
From: daq@hpfcso.FC.HP.COM (Doug Quarnstrom)
Date: Mon, 20 Jul 1992 18:30:33 GMT
Subject: Re: Our Lady of the Frolicking Death
Organization: Hewlett-Packard, Fort Collins, CO, USA