Saturday, March 19, 2011


I am fairly embarrassed to call myself a blogger lately - as you can tell I've had other things on my mind and keeping up with everything is difficult - So, I've read almost no blogs, written very little in mine and in general am none too fazed by this.

The words on the page look foreign to me and today we recall the death of Willem de Kooning. Becoming a ghost of his own brush stoke today in 1997. 

Listening to Chopin, Opus 34, no. 2 in A minor - Writing a letter to a friend who I owe more than just that letter. I managed to nap between nine pm and eleven pm. awake now or still I can only think about Willem and Chopin, My friend and my pajamas.


  1. A blogger, meh. A poet? You have the soul of one. "I can only think about Willem and Chopin, my friend and my pajamas."

  2. You and I seem to walk the same paths at the same times worlds apart. Listening to Chopin this morning too for some unknown reason - just felt right.

    Last night I was listening to Bruch and thought of you. Something about his crashes always reminds me of you.

    Been a piss poor blogger myself lately, and I can't seem to care. I came online to attempt it - have read the couple of you I still care to read, and am now over it.

    I haven't anything worth saying.

  3. Greetings:

    Week 27 Poetry Potluck is open, welcome/Thanks (4) joining us…share your poetry with us today…

    Friendship Awards, Enjoy!

    Happy Monday,
    Bless you!

  4. I've had the blogger blahs since December, dude... Can't seem to shake it.

  5. Jhon, You touched me today when you read my poem and left your alone saw fully that line...for only as one truly looking could see...and as time takes us through many changes...the time needed in pajamas with Chopin is often more brillant then fully as always...bkm

  6. CHOPIN CHOPIN CHOOOPIN! My favourite.

  7. I'm okay with the blogging, but ask me to write more than a paragraph and I'm freaking paralyzed


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