No, not really, no Clint Eastwood/Dirty Harry/Josey Wales bon mots here but I do have a quote from William Carlos Williams I want to share (what motivates parents to give a child the same first name as the last name?)
Regardless, here's the quote:
It is difficult to get the
news from poems
yet men die miserably every day
for lack of what is
found there.
(Kinda makes you wonder how much decent poetry is read at 1600 PA Ave. NW, don't it?)
Talked to my girl ScandaLizz today (see links section)...actually today she was Lizz, mainly cause we got into very serious shit in our time on the phone. We both lamented that for various reasons our writing has been suffering. Quick fix: regardless of whether or not she goes to VONA this year she is coming out here to spend time with me and the family this summer and she and I will have ample time, energy, material, and venues to get off with our art. I'm excited as the other day I talked with Fotoboy and he said he had to motor east from the Left Coast too, Lizz is in San Diego, The Boy in in LA, all of this prompted after I told each of them that I'm not going to USF for VONA as I have way too much going on with Robert...
Robert is at that magic age, nine, when the world still contains a lot of mystery with magic. My plan is to help him understand that even after he 'grows up' he can still find magic (as all of us grown ups know the world will always be mysterious!) within himself.
So, he's coming with me to Boston for that training I mentioned in my previous journal entry and I'm going to Pennsylvania with him the next week for soccer camp. (see July archives; 'Dispatch From Hunlock Creek' for some quick background on that!)
Those would be the two weeks I was planning on being in San Francisco for a week of poetry with the wonderful Ruth Forman and a week of residency with the intense David Mura. I was intending on squeezing out as much of the juice of poetry I had in me those two weeks.
Instead I'll watch it flow through the eyes and soul of my son.
And wonder why we have daily newscasts and newspapers yet look upon poets as being excentric and poetry as fluff or esoterica.
A wise man once told me that when it comes to raising children its best, as in bike riding in the mountains, not to look too far up the road as the task may seem too daunting, you'll wonder how you'll ever get 'there'. Each day is a poem with my children. Anticipated days with them, and with my friends like Ibarionex and Lizz is like knowing there's an awesome treat after a fine meal. I'm savoring both today and dessert.
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