My poetry book doesn’t sell. At all. I’m wondering why… I’m also wondering if I’m going to publish other poetry books or just publish them here. The point is not about making money… Just… you know… Picking the best option for my poems…
I didn’t write a single poem this month… Well, I started one and thought about another but they aren’t written…
I may try to write one daily in April… Stop thinking about digits for a while… diet results… retirement savings schemes… mortgage financing… Bad for poetry…
Legend has it that Hemingway was once challenged to write a story in only six words. His response? “For sale: baby shoes, never worn.” Last year, SMITH Magazine re-ignited the recountre by asking our readers for their own six-word memoirs. They sent in short life stories in droves, from the bittersweet (“Cursed with cancer, blessed with friends”) and poignant (“I still make coffee for two”) to the inspirational (“Business school? Bah! Pop music? Hurrah”) and hilarious (“I like big butts, can’t lie”).
Brilliant. Shorter is always better. But it’s not an easy process. Collecting differents universes I’m in, wrapping up all sides of my life…
The poet would probably like “I found out she is joy”. But I don’t think the whole me would.
My body remembered me, loudly, that I have Irritable Bowel Syndrome – IBS. Two painful Saturday nights in a row. Last night’s episode was very long (maybe the longest I experienced so far) and pretty painful. Both times, it’s totally my fault. 75% of the time, maybe, I experience it the day I make the grocery. Treats I overconsume and bang. People with IBS should avoid big meals and too much fat at once. So it’s totally my fault. I don’t remember any crisis without overeating.
But I also realized that some of anticancer and low-carb food are not compatible with the kind of diet people should have. That’s the paradox of IBS. Healthy food can (could) harm me. But way less than going through a whole bag of cookies after a big meal.
I should eat with care red meat (had Saturday), nuts (had Friday night), chips (had both last Saturday nights…), cabbage (had a whole one through the week)… Chips seem to be involved in most of the episodes I experience but most often AFTER I already crossed the line. Otherwise, I would never eat chips…
The most ironic part of an IBS diet involves problems with very health food with insoluble fibers. Things like beans, apples, grapefruits, oranges, spinach, lettuce, onions, broccoli, cauliflower, cucumbers, fresh herbs… These can be eaten but with care and preferably not on an empty stomach. In the other side, most of the recommended food has a high glycemic index.
But what I remember of my past crisis over the years mostly involves fat. So, by avoiding overeating and managing the fat I eat, I can possibly eat everything I want.
I do however have to rethink the whole picture by giving less space to low-carb and anticancer food. I don’t know if I ever going to have cancer. I know however I am lowering the risk by becoming fit instead of fat.
Fish, soy, oat, beets are still recommended in both sides. I guess I really have to try soy…
But, another paradox, I suspect that losing weight stresses my body enough to raise the risk of a crisis – even if the main risk there comes from a day of excess after many days of efforts. So, that’s not a reason to stop losing weight, 15 pounds since the beginning of the year.
I think losing weight is my #1 stress source right now. I don’t consume much negative energy in any field these days.
What I wonder is if my creativity is a factor. Would writing prose help? Is there a conflict between the two sides of my brain (I want to create vs. what for ?)? Does poetry fulfill my creativity needs? Is it mostly about some kind of cathartic experience? Letting some dark areas out?
Anyway, that’s still that hamburger and cookie bag combo I mostly cursed last night, not lack of creativity.
As I had some time to google last night and some motivation to find a way out of this (IBS can’t be cured, only avoided), I learned about visceral osteopathy. I don’t like the picture but I think I’ll seek someone to play with my viscera…
Let’s just hope I learned my lesson with dumb overeating.
Lately it seems my poetry is like an empty milk-shake. Trying to pull something but all I have is some noise from the straw. One, two verses, and a dead-end. Small pieces of poetry. I don’t know… Do I want too much ? Maybe I’m just not inspired… I miss the time when I was writing almost 2 poems a day…
I’m standing in the poetry riverside, looking at prose. I don’t know if I can find anything to say that worths crossing the river.
Which story deserves to be told ? Which philosophy ? Which lyrical statement ? Which narrative marvel ? Which funny event ?
I feel good walking in poetry. Even if I don’t walk much these days. But I’m still looking at the other side of the river. Wondering.
I’m wondering today if satire is victimization, if it’s a complaint. If I write a funny story showing that the way things are sucks, am I not complaining, victimizing?
Can we say Kafka was a complainer? That he should have done something instead of writing these books? And Orwell? And, more lately, Stephen Colbert and South Park creators?
Doesn’t the satire mean the author prefer to laugh at what he dislikes than doing something about it?
Or maybe change is all about perspective and if so, satire is a marvelous, extremely powerful tool to change the world.
Oh yeah, thanks to Orwell and Kafka, we don’t live anymore in some tyrannical bureaucracy.
Your views about all this would be much appreciated.
 | tobeme on a look at my new year’s… |
 | john on |
 | paisley on |
| john on fruits or cancer |
 | rgheft on fruits or cancer |
