A charming and witty piece in which the poet, a man of obvious depth and tremendous perspicacity, attempts to distill the essence of human relationships through the use of profound dialogue, skillful observation, and penetrative insight, revealing—in a subtle and ingenious manner worthy of literary luminaries such as Shakespeare, Milton, or Chaucer—that the human condition is fundamentally absurd and true intimacy, whether between members of the same or opposite sex, completely illusionary.
he said,
she said,
‘nuff said.
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
About Me
About this Blog
This site contains my writings, observations, and photography for the Whitman Creative Studies Program. Because this is a working blog, many of the pieces contained within it will need to continue to be refined over time before they are ready to be organized into a finished product (my most recent Blurb book). Your suggestions, comments, and criticisms, therefore, are highly appreciated.
About the WCSP
The Whitman Creative Studies Program proves the opportunity for a select group of adventurous college students to develop their creative potentials in a nurturing and supportive environment. Feel free to leave a comment on this site if you would like feedback on your own creative blog-work.
My Flickr Account
Personal Photos and Self-Portraits
My Youtube Page
Blog Archive
-
▼
2010
(59)
-
▼
April
(15)
- The Most Important Lesson of All
- A Touch of Freakiness
- The Lessons of Springtime
- A Tippy Toe Poem
- ARMAGEDDON
- Love Song
- 34 Montague Street
- Vanishing Point
- You Never Know
- Violation in Aisle 11
- there was a boy who smelled like cheese
- Trouble Communicating
- A charming and witty piece in which the poet, a ma...
- Small Package
- It Happened on the E Train
-
▼
April
(15)
Ever read the novels of John Barth? He wrote a book called The Tidewater Tales. The beginning of some of his chapters have super-long titles, too. Why do you feel the need to mock poetic form and content? I'm not saying such mockery is misguided -- I just want to know what motivates you to do it? What's your project, man...?
ReplyDeleteBy the way, here's a poem my father wrote for me when I was an impoverished college student and asked him to send me some money for cigarettes, I mean food. Actually, I don't think he wrote it. I think he read it, somewhere, and then reappropriated it when the circumstances suited him:
No mon,
No fun,
Your son.
Too bad,
So sad,
Your Dad.
Okay so I agree totally with Damien. Good, right? I just read one of your entry about the kid who smelt like cheese? OMG , can you believe I just said OMG? I loved it. I really hate people who smell like cheese :)...at least you know what to expect from me
ReplyDeleteThanks, Laura. By the way, my name has two a's: DamiAn.
ReplyDelete