Proust is my Friend

Proust is my friend
Speaking to me
In his verbose and
Convoluted way.

There is a richness
In his silent utterances
Arising from the pages
Of his opus
That speak to me
Causing a heartfelt response.

The Cat and the Rat

4am the cat tumbled through the window
With the strange muffled miaow
Of the victorious rat catcher
I try and sleep on
But the flipping motions and the
Thud of dead rat flying through
The air concentrates
My attention.

Oscar is very happy
The rat very dead
And my sleep disappeared
Grrrr

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Readers Block

We have all heard of writers block, but you don't hear much about readers block. This is when you just find it hard to get motivated to read. I am battling my way through Proust and some days it is all too much.

So what is the cure?

I have found the best cure to be reading a light book such as a thriller or mystery, one that doesn't need a lot of concentration. It does work and after a gory thriller I am now back reading Proust and some of my more serious reading.

May the force be with you...

Amnesia

Meaningless confusion
A tumble of chaotic
Thoughts
Who is living
In my mind?

Awake but not alert
Struggling to find
Myself

Trying to raise above
The surface of my
Subconscious
To be myself
Again

The Early Morning Warrior

It is 5am
Get up
Get going

In the office
at 6.45am
Refreshed
eagerly getting
to the most
Important work

Before the phones ring
The emails come flying in
And the peace and quiet
shatters...

DK

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Poetic Craft - Condensation

The art of a good poetry is to crystallise a human experience into a poem. This means that you need a good grasp on the language you are writing in. The craft is in working on variants of words until the poem is just right. This takes time and thought. Many of the best poems look like they have been written effortlessly but the blood, seat and tears are hidden behind the finished poems in it's iterative drafts.

Happy writing

Grant aka drkelp


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I hate ties

Having worked for many years in clinical and business environments I have had a hate/love relationship with that modern Elizabethan accoutrement, the tie.



I hate my tie

dangling lifeless thing

that it is

hanging limply

useless strip of limpid

cloth upon my chest.



I love my tie

colorful and bright

male plumage

of the corporate club

the old school tie.



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