Happy Birthday 1998
-Bob Dylan
Today is 17 September 2008 - my 42nd birthday. It's also the birthday of two completely different writers I very much respect: Ken Kesey (author of One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest, perhaps the greatest novel of its decade, and one of the best ever) and William Carlos Williams (physician and Pulitzer Prize-winning poet). Ken died in 2001 and would be 73 years old today. W.C. died in 1963 and would be 125. I've begun the process of adding all of Williams' pre-1923 works to the Crisis Chronicles Online Library (everything he published after 1922 is subject to copyright restrictions). To see an index of Williams works I've posted so far, click http://library.crisischronicles.com/categories/Williams%20(W.C.).aspx. I haven't yet procured permission to post Kesey's work, but I hope to do so eventually.
It's been a dry month for me poetically. Since writing my epic Identity Crisis about a month ago, and then in the wake of my successful first featured reading on 23 August, I've found neither time nor the inclination/inspiration to write much of my own. Been a bit more focused on others' poetry, though I have posted a few samples of my decade(s) old poetry for your (and my own) amusement....
Tuesday morning I posted a cool video by performance poetry pioneer Chocolate Waters in the Online Library (please click here to check that out). And I have two pieces by one-time Elyria, Ohio, resident Sherwood Anderson set up to post in the library at 9 a.m. Eastern time on Wednesday, before many of you will have the chance to read this blog [update: they're online now - War and Senility]. Might add more Williams works as well, to celebrate his birthday, if time permits....
I had to take our dog Lady to the vet to get spayed Tuesday morning. Since she can't go up and down stairs til she recovers and our other two dogs are not likely to leave her alone while she heals, Mom is keeping Lady for us for a week or so. I miss her. And so do the dogs.
Geez, I feel like I'm about to fall asleep on the computer - haven't been getting enough zzzs lately. So I don't even remember what I was planning to write about.
Oh yeah... I wasn't really going to write a blog. I just planned to post a shitty old birthday poem I wrote in prison not long after the parole board "flopped" me in 1998. Yep, it's the 10-year anniversary of this embarrassing poem - so I guess that if I don't share it now, I'll never share it at all. Here it is, then. And since it sucks eggs, I give you permission to throw eggs at your computer screens:
Happy Birthday
(17 Sept. 1998, from my journal Meditations and Improvisations)
People and places like you are why
I'll never believe in God
You ripped the soul from a man who loved only love
And peace and beautiful skies.
You took me to heavenly heights
And I was this close to believing
When you pushed me off a cloud
And laughed at my screaming.
You failed me, my God,
And you dare to condemn me
For failing to believe when it's
People and places like you
Who made me this way.
http://poetrypoem.com/cgi-bin/index.pl?poemnumber=810259&sitename=charlax&password=&poemoffset=0&displaypoem=t&item=poetry
a poem for your birthday
HAVE a HAPPY BIRTHDAY
The Emperors Clothes and Clothier and Lady
The Emperors Clothes and Clothier and Lady
The Jacket:
the clothier is speaking first :
The Jacket has a certain flair the cuffs are French oh sire they blanch
when viewed from the side they staunch old wounds they positively howl...
The Jacket:
the emperor is reply
Are you sure that these cuffs are French eye simply LOVE the French
they make those ruffled potatoes and call them fries.
I LOVE to shoot these cuffs and preen and watch the Lady as she smiles.
The Lapels:
the clothier
the lapels are double wide to hide thy royal girth from mirth from jesters
as they toss the thorny crown underneath thy feet to trample under...
The Lapels:
the emperor
These wide lapels shall do just fine I LOVE to hook my thumbs in them with pride
and dance my way to where the Lady sits and smiles.
The Pants:
The clothier
the pants are pantaloons and round where they fit in areas of grotesque
anatomy such as an Empire dweller such as yourself seems to have
in the overabundance of wealth
The Pants:
the emperor
These pantaloons are round and very tight upon some parts of me
it makes me feel like quite the clown
but leave it as it seems they made the Lady smile again
The Lady:
as she frowns
leave off knave and let me tell the emperor the truth
the suit of clothing that you have been weaving
is in truth his birthday suit
The clothier:
in chagrin
thou hast blew it milady the emperor shall never have me again
The emperor:
mollycoddle chasten and depress
in truth I knew it was but a jest the wind was blowing against my chest
the cuffs were American not French
the color of the pantaloons was off
The Lady was smirking in a frown and not a smile.
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Happy Birthday John. I don't think your poem sucked. I am no expert, but I got the idea that it pretty much conveyed how you were feeling at the time, and rightly so. I can relate about not getting enough zzzz's. I am feeling the same. Worn out.
I feel major changes taking place in the universe and it wears on me.
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Happy Birthday John!
And no.. the poem does not suck eggs it's just very sad you had to write it at all. It may not have been divinely inspired or anything but as Susan says conveys a lot of what you felt at the time.
I hope you get caught up on your zzzzzzz's...
Again many more happy years ahead for you.
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I'm reading One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest right now!
Yr an interesting human.
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Happy Birthday John.
One flew over the Cuckoo's Nest is definitly one of my favorites.
I hope your pooch is feeling better soon.
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Happy, Happy Birthday. God blessed this world the day you were born, and, especially me. Love you. Mom
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Happy Birthday!!!
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I agree with the above comments RE: your Birthday poem, JC. It resonates with pain and disappointment and disillusionment and instantly prompts empathy and understanding in the reader. Can a poem, or poet, hope to communicate any better than that? As for the dry spell, that seems to happen to me, too, and to other poets, from what I've heard. It's like you have a brilliant burst of creativity and then lie dormant, waiting for a special spark to set you off again. Just have that journal handy-- you never know when The Muse will hit!
Happy, happy Birthday, JC. Hope it's a wonderful day for you!
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Happy Birthday and many more happy times for you. I agree with Dianne about your poem. It does communicate!
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happy birthday!
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http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=glNjsOHiBYs
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First things first. Happy Birthday John. I hope that you are having a beautiful and happy day. I hope that you are surrounded by your favorite people today and that you relive fond memories of birthdays past. Make a good wish when you blow out your birthday candles tonight!
I love your poem. I get very angry with God. He scares me. It's not his power that scares me, it's his helplessness. His judgment doesn't seem to be the greatest either. His explanations are too much like my own. He got angry, He wasn't paying attention, He can't do anything about that. God's tough. He seems to be able to take whatever we throw at Him. But there are some really good things I see his hand in. My prayers have led to plans and deeds that have brought untollled blessings into my life. We are all cursed and blessed.
What kind of cake are you having? Do you always have the same kind?
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About your writer's block..just remember..Live with a careless ease and the next write will fall right in your hands. I believe this will happen soon.
I forget who wrote this..
No parchment for to pen my verse
Nor ink to fill my quill
No destined place for words to berth
Nor is there even will
No words to write or come at all
Nor inspiration flow
No lesson learned or offered here
Nor anything to know
This too shall pass....
Happy Birthday to you ♫ ♫ ♫
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Happy Birthday, John! I hope it's a good one, and may many blessings come your way in the next year!
I also love the Dylan quote at the top of the page. It definitely speaks to me...probably to many of us.
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Happy Birthday, my lord Crisis! The Minister hopes that the wish you make today as you blow out your candles comes true for you, and that you have not only a wonderful day, but a wonderful year ahead, as well. Sending you many blessings on this special day.
I've posted a "birthday sermon" on the Church's site, to celebrate today. I hope you like it!
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happy born day.
be sure to include this 1917 w.c.williams poem:
William Carlos Williams,
"Danse Russe"
If I when my wife is sleeping
Ballet russe (photo of Adolph Bolm and Flore Revalles, taken in 1910)
and the baby and Kathleen
are sleeping
and the sun is a flame-white disc
in silken mists
above shining trees,--
if I in my north room
dance naked, grotesquely
before my mirror
waving my shirt round my head
and singing softly to myself:
"I am lonely, lonely.
I was born to be lonely,
I am best so!"
If I admire my arms, my face,
my shoulders, flanks, buttocks
again the yellow drawn shades,--
Who shall say I am not
the happy genius of my household?
[1917]
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God, I love this poem...
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Would that make today "Crisismas?"
Its also Elvira's birthday.
(does the blog comments have a vampire smiley?)
Have a great one!
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