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Reading the poetry of someone whom I consider to be a talented writer is both humbling and inspiring. I have the urge to write, but the inescapable knowledge that what gems may emerge from my pen do so mostly by luck. Mostly I have the urge to read more. I think, oh! I could do that! I have done that! But not in such quantity or with such quality, and never with such sparkling brilliance.

Reading good poetry teases the edges of my skull, inflates it, renders it see-through. It's rather the same with art. I know I have talent, I know I'm good. But I'm not DRIVEN TO CREATE. Well, sometimes I am, but it's depressingly infrequent. I am usually content with being a lover of beauty, with the ability to see and know when something I read or appreciate is truly beautiful. Inner envy is eclipsed by awe. Motivation slides aside.

Something Beautiful I Saw Today: A stunning handmade starburst quilt by carrieb

I'm a little pre-occupied with the phenomenon of aging these days. Hair comes in where it's not wanted and falls from where it is. I suddenly see wrinkles in places I've never noticed them before. Were they there yesterday or did they spring full blown from my forehead just today, tiny armored Athenas? Two sets of short wrinkles lie like extra eyebrows high above my would seem I am perpetually surprised or sarcastic. Every small twinge and catch breeds panic and resignation. I can feel the years clicking down my bones.

Yeah, What He/She/They Said: Sorry, Everybody

How long does it take us to learn not to lie? How long was it before we learned telling tales was unattractive behavior? Do we ever stop or do we merely learn to change them into justification, self-preservation and gossip? Parenting is the hardest job I've ever had. I often feel as if I've walked into the classroom expecting a lecture and find out instead it's the day of finals. My ability to bullshit my way through essay questions and term papers will not be of much help. Is there a correspondence course available or is it all strictly lab work?
mood: creative
music: Prokofiev—Classical Symphony


I have a couple of comments the first being in regard to how you used to get an A on everything with the smallest amount of effort ever...payback is hell, muahaha! The other is with regard to learning how NOT to lie, how is it that it is a learned behavior? Wouldn't you think it was the other way around? It's amazing to me that kids start to lie almost immediately after they learn to talk. I think it's tied into self preservation like an instinct. An excellent experiment might be to ask why someone lied to you and then proceed through those mucky waters from there. Just a thought.

Another thing, I would love to be an inspiring poet to you and I have to say that your poetry is the only poetry I have ever been inspired and impressed by. I used to live for poems by you, it was the first time I felt really apart of the world. Now you can get in your go cart and go, right!?! ;)

That's what I mean, that it's a learned behavior NOT to lie. Lying to keep out of trouble or deflect attention is instinctive.

And I'm truly flattered by what you said about my poetry. Zooooooooooooooooom!

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lizardek's obiter photos
lizardek's obiter photos

Feeling generous? Be my guest!

I can complain because rose bushes have thorns or rejoice because thorn bushes have roses.

Abraham Lincoln

obiter snippets

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Findus the cat as used in my user icon and header is the creation of Sven Nordqvist.