I could post more a day, sure, but I think two is neither too many nor too few. The whole exercise takes about an hour of my day, from flipping through the poems, to deciding on 2, to recording an acceptable recital of each, the conversion from one type of audio file to another, and, finally to posting the poems. It is manageable. Then, at last, writing the blog. These are meant to be semi-private thoughts about the poems I just posted, the process of writing them, anything, really. I think I'll gather them up and collect them into a sort of introduction to the work; Add it to my book. What book? Well! My ultimate goal is to gather ALL my poetry, and send it off to one of those printing presses for hire and make, oh, about a dozen copies or so at the most expensive quality I can afford and store them away for my future grand-children. And I better have a good measure of them given I have 5 children - that I know of, as the old joke goes. Honestly, I hope it is only the 5. I'd hate to think there may be one or two out there that don't know their father. I imagine that would be the one question I'll stumble on with St. Peter. But we've all been young and pernicious (yes, I looked at a thesaurus, but it is also the word I meant to use, I'd simply forgotten it).
#37 speaks to that guilt, the evil that men do, and, isn't there a more powerful force driving what we tend to ascribe to mere lust? Isn't the fruit the meat of the matter rather than the watering of the seed?
#7 is a continuation of sorts from another poem that I'd already posted here about an alien world. Certain locales would reappear, stories would continue, or the point of view change, phrases and descriptions, certain words. It is meant to be part of the fun. Finding serendipitous connections between poems (because, believe me, they certainly weren't PLANNED). Exploring the poems, explores my brain, my personal mythologies. Unavoidably, there are allusions to works that left a mark on my psyche, to the extent of almost being theft. For example "The cost of having what you want, is having what you once wanted" is a quote from Neil Gaiman. So, too, is the image of a man writing with his bloody fingers. I trust that I repurposed both correctly. Both were presented under very different context and framing and wording. But, the allusion IS there, plain for anyone to see. Oh, well, again: "such is life in the tropics" (phrase stolen from an ex-boss of mine).