These are my rambles, my thinking as I grow younger and younger. |
Yeah, it's late, cold in California, last poem was trash, have another new poem...draft I and then draft II. Nonsense. Frost wrote 5-10-20 drafts. Mary Oliver revises 100 times! Yikes. Brooding over changing one small word in one line, or chopping dismal words. How did they agonize over snippets of one word, one image. i never intended to achieve greatest in a public way. I always was a writer and wanted to write books. yet, in my 70's eclectic view...women could and would do all that interested them. Writing, college, traveling, Languages, Art History, Finance, and..for me...entering a Service Profession. Practicing as a Licensed Clinical Social Worker for 30 years in California...I absolutely adored my job. I had that passion to change a life, a community, maybe only one suicidal being, who needed a laugh, someone to talk with... But writing, piano, reading, running, Higher schooling, traveling, plays, concerts, family love, laughing ALOT....all have been passions. The entry line is simply: "What do you say? (each morning, to fill silent gaps, to turn ackward meetings, shyness into a skilled social set one learns in school.) Yet too much of this "saying", this "noise" filling silence is really our meek attempt at stuttering.."I exist". "I guess I am someone". "maybe I do matter". "In The Silence Of The Heart God Speaks" - Mother Teresa |