Saturday, September 22, 2018
I Am A Poet, And These Are My Ideas.
By: Donovan Baldwin
I am a poet, or so I claim to be.
Have the "creds", as they say.
Never said I was a "good" poet... and, don't really care if I am.
I am a poet.
I see, hear, feel things coming from everywhere, forcing themselves into my perception and then back out of me as words, images, feelings which the reader may or may not "get". It was born within me as a poem and came out of me a poem. How others perceive it is beyond my control.
So, about these ideas which sometimes are transmuted into poems within my mind, heart, soul, body, and, yes, there IS a visceral, corporeal component... where do they come from?
Everywhere.
I can see a dog or a flower or a discarded beer can by the side of the road and get an idea. I can hear a sad song, a happy song, or a boring tedious song, read a passage in a book, follow some meandering path of thought within my mind, or overhear someone else's conversation and get an idea.
Sometimes, I respond, in my poem, sometimes in broken patches of poems, to the comments of someone who wasn't even speaking to me.
Sometimes, I like the way someone thinks, or expresses themselves SO MUCH, that I have an imaginary one-sided conversation with them... and they never know.
So, for your sake, unless you want to become part of a poem and never know it, be careful what you say... although I'd rather you didn't... for my sake.
I am a poet, or so I claim to be.
Have the "creds", as they say.
Never said I was a "good" poet... and, don't really care if I am.
I am a poet.
I see, hear, feel things coming from everywhere, forcing themselves into my perception and then back out of me as words, images, feelings which the reader may or may not "get". It was born within me as a poem and came out of me a poem. How others perceive it is beyond my control.
So, about these ideas which sometimes are transmuted into poems within my mind, heart, soul, body, and, yes, there IS a visceral, corporeal component... where do they come from?
Everywhere.
I can see a dog or a flower or a discarded beer can by the side of the road and get an idea. I can hear a sad song, a happy song, or a boring tedious song, read a passage in a book, follow some meandering path of thought within my mind, or overhear someone else's conversation and get an idea.
Sometimes, I respond, in my poem, sometimes in broken patches of poems, to the comments of someone who wasn't even speaking to me.
Sometimes, I like the way someone thinks, or expresses themselves SO MUCH, that I have an imaginary one-sided conversation with them... and they never know.
So, for your sake, unless you want to become part of a poem and never know it, be careful what you say... although I'd rather you didn't... for my sake.
Labels: donovan baldwin, ideas, poem, poet, writing
Thursday, October 26, 2017
Dealing With Things
By: Donovan Baldwin
NOTE: This article was written a few weeks ago. I'm fine now.
Odd how things affect us.
I began dealing with the effects of a cold about two weeks ago. While I have had to do things that needed to be done during that time, I didn't really want to. I felt "sick" and, without even trying, my body and mind decided that was what I was going to be.
My brain, normally active as a squirrel in Fall, actually shut down.
Normally, for me, as I went through my day, I would have dozens of ideas about things I wanted to comment on, discuss, or just cogitate about.
However, during my sick days, my brain seemed only to be able to concentrate on how I felt, and, fuzzily at that, the task at hand.
It didn't used to be that way when I was a young whippersnapper. I could be sick as a dog and still get all kinds of stuff done. The "being sick" was just part of the daily deal back then.
I don't know if it has to do with age, or being retired, and not really having to function in the "real world" on a regular basis.
That's probably part of it.
Well, good news is that the cold is easing up, and, as I was driving around on errands yesterday I thought of dozens of topics of interest.
Of course, I had forgotten all of them long before I got home, but, it's nice to know the brain is working in its normal fashion again.
Comes up with ideas and then loses them.
Frustrating as always, but, it's nice to be back to normal.
NOTE: This article was written a few weeks ago. I'm fine now.
I began dealing with the effects of a cold about two weeks ago. While I have had to do things that needed to be done during that time, I didn't really want to. I felt "sick" and, without even trying, my body and mind decided that was what I was going to be.
My brain, normally active as a squirrel in Fall, actually shut down.
Normally, for me, as I went through my day, I would have dozens of ideas about things I wanted to comment on, discuss, or just cogitate about.
However, during my sick days, my brain seemed only to be able to concentrate on how I felt, and, fuzzily at that, the task at hand.
It didn't used to be that way when I was a young whippersnapper. I could be sick as a dog and still get all kinds of stuff done. The "being sick" was just part of the daily deal back then.
I don't know if it has to do with age, or being retired, and not really having to function in the "real world" on a regular basis.
That's probably part of it.
Well, good news is that the cold is easing up, and, as I was driving around on errands yesterday I thought of dozens of topics of interest.
Of course, I had forgotten all of them long before I got home, but, it's nice to know the brain is working in its normal fashion again.
Comes up with ideas and then loses them.
Frustrating as always, but, it's nice to be back to normal.
Labels: a cold, brain, cold, donovan baldwin, ideas, sick, thinking
Wednesday, August 23, 2017
I Get All Kinds Of Ideas
By Donovan Baldwin
Every day I get all kinds of ideas for articles, comments, and poems.
In fact, yesterday I wrote a poem from scratch. Needs a little clean up, but, essentially done. A few minutes ago, I wrote a poem to a friend in about seven minutes because I wanted to give her a special "thank you" for something she had done for me.
At almost any time, I have between five and ten other poems in various stages of "construction".
Part of the problem being that I don't JUST construct these thins...put this word there, rhyme this, rhythm that. I am, a lot of the time, writing words that my brain, and heart, tell ME will tell the story that they see, thinking, experiencing.
I'm not bragging, because I have no idea how or why I can do this. Don't have a hell of a lot of control over it, either.
All of this is to say that not every idea immediately becomes a poem or comment.
Example: Thursday, mina stanovich gave me an idea for a comment. My idea was immediate and complete. Unfortunately, I was with my grandkids at an appointment, so, I made a quick note and thanked her. Have the note right here "Esoteric Diatribe People Online Asking What Words Mean".
Next day, The thought, and note, were still there, but Tinkerbell would have been proud of the fairy dust it became.
I'll get it together sooner or later, Mina. Hang in there.
In fact, yesterday I wrote a poem from scratch. Needs a little clean up, but, essentially done. A few minutes ago, I wrote a poem to a friend in about seven minutes because I wanted to give her a special "thank you" for something she had done for me.
At almost any time, I have between five and ten other poems in various stages of "construction".
Part of the problem being that I don't JUST construct these thins...put this word there, rhyme this, rhythm that. I am, a lot of the time, writing words that my brain, and heart, tell ME will tell the story that they see, thinking, experiencing.
I'm not bragging, because I have no idea how or why I can do this. Don't have a hell of a lot of control over it, either.
All of this is to say that not every idea immediately becomes a poem or comment.
Example: Thursday, mina stanovich gave me an idea for a comment. My idea was immediate and complete. Unfortunately, I was with my grandkids at an appointment, so, I made a quick note and thanked her. Have the note right here "Esoteric Diatribe People Online Asking What Words Mean".
Next day, The thought, and note, were still there, but Tinkerbell would have been proud of the fairy dust it became.
I'll get it together sooner or later, Mina. Hang in there.
Labels: article by Donovan Baldwin, article ideas, donovan baldwin, ideas, ideas for poems
