A Periodic and Never Ending Loop

A Periodic and Never Ending Loop

photo by AVR

I first put together and started to organize my poems when 3 things happened (before that they were only on scraps of paper, napkins, scattered in notebooks etc.).

1.      My friends and family expressed their continued interest in my writing and their dismay at only being able to read them from ragged looking scraps.

2.      I bought a computer, learned MS Word and so was able to print them and save them to diskette.

3.      I had a probable but unconfirmed micro stroke that seemed to only affect my memory and language skills (and only partially) and wasn’t able to work so I had lots of time on my hands to write new poems and organize the old.  This actually helped me in my recovery.

The second time I was compelled to repeat the process was when I was putting together the manuscript for my first book, “Dearest and Most Precious: A Love Journal”.  This time I was looking for all sorts of ragged pieces of paper as well as perusing diskettes for suitable material for this poetic prose, easy read glimpse into my private amorous life that was actually pre-ordered by a lot of people who had read parts of the manuscript.  I didn’t make money but I managed to break even and added quite a few new fans in the process.

Just recently, I became so tired of looking all over to find the poems for the “Shadows on the Carpet” manuscript that I have been working on consolidating and organizing my poems from various sources - several memory sticks, external hard drives (data saved whenever a computer crashed and burned)- to one folder on the computer with sub-folders.  And I put together poem lists by year, in the order of their matching numbers (at the insistence of a long time friend and fan, I took the time to arrange the poems by year and number them a few years ago).

Based on that, I found that I am missing 2 poems that I have no clue what the titles are and what happened to them - one from 2006 & one from 2007. I have looked through unrelated folders on all my media - where I found some that had been 'missing'. Also, I had stopped numbering my poems in 2011 but luckily I had begun dating them so I was able to number them. I still have 2012 to do. What a project and I'm still not done. I am still missing my diskettes and the poems on them, but I do have those as hard copies in 3 ring binders. Next I'll have to tackle the paper files (thrown into many different boxes) where I should have a copies of the missing poems as well as unfinished ones.

Because I love the feel of pencil (and sometimes pen) on paper, I start all my poems that way and then transfer to computer.  Unfortunately, this means that I will be going through this organizing process whenever I need to in the future – a periodic, never ending loop.

English/Czech - Re-Entry/Návrat

This week's English/Czech posting is the 4th poem inspired by the abstract art of Ivan Pavlíček. I would love your comments on either version of this poem.

Re-Entry

© Ivan Pavlíček

Blue turns to

Violet

As absence

Slowly fades

And my heart

Begins to

Burst into

Flaming red

© Alice Vedral Rivera – 9/26/12 7:45am CST

Návrat

Modrá se mění
do fialova
Když nepřítomnost
pomalu vadne
A moje srdce
začíná planout
žhavou červenou

© Alice Vedral Rivera  - 2012

Sometimes I Get A Good Feeling…… (2)

This is the 2nd in my Sometimes I Get A Good Feeling series of uplifting stories.  It was written last year.

Sometimes I Get A Good Feeling……

photo by AVR

The other day I was on the ‘L’ on my way home from work.  It was pretty full and I was standing holding on to a strap.  A young man standing next to me remarked that it was a beautiful day.  It was. As the L swayed back and forth in a turn, I had a bit of exercise just trying not to fall.  At this point, a young lady pointed to my foot and told me that my shoelace was untied. I thanked her for letting me know but I was in no position to tie it.  She offered to tie it for me if I lifted my foot.  Balancing on one leg as she tied my shoe, I joked that I was getting a workout on my ride home.  When she finished tying my shoe, she gave me her seat.  The young woman I sat next to, who had carry on luggage in front of her, apologized that she was unable to offer her seat to me because of her luggage. 

I was struck by the politeness and compassion of these young people.  We are used to hearing only about the negative things that some of them do and the many positive stories go untold.  I have decided to share the positive when I encounter it.  Sometimes I get a good feeling…..

Shadows on the Carpet - Section 7 - Condemned

photo art by AVR

In yesterday's post, I shared [Quarantine].  I forgot to mention that it is one of the poems in section 7, Condemned, of my Shadows on the Carpet manuscript.

Check it out and don't be shy about leaving comments.   I dare you - no, I double dare you. 

[Quarantine]

Today I'm sharing a poem I wrote in 2005 with you.  It was inspired by a combination of past images and feelings brought on by something said to me that pushed a button that was only slightly related to what they were referring to.

I am including a link to an audio of me reciting this poem with Acidplanet artist Phreniq's music and mix.  You will need to listen to the audio to understand why I chose the accompanying photo.  On Acidplanet there is an audio of fellow poet, Max Reif, reading this poem.  His interpretation is interesting and motivated me to start recording my poems. 

In the past, some people felt compelled to pull out their dictionaries - including family members and some of my fellow poets.

photo by AVR

[Quarantine] AVR & Phreniq

[QUARANTINE]

As she stood on the shore

Feeling the wind whip the waves

An angry frenzy forming white caps

On the lake - mimicking

Making a mockery

Of the turmoil in her soul

The perception of being

Quarantined - intensified

Confined to an inclement

Compartment, no bigger than

Necessary to contain

Her essence - her autocracy

Secluded - desperate

In her struggle to break through

Debilitating isolation

She cried out for compassion

For freedom from exclusion

Forced on her by foreign

Exigencies, by external

Limitations - constraints

Of increasingly diminishing

Pockets of time and seeming

Disinterest in her well being

By her captor – he who had

Purported to love her

© Alice Vedral Rivera - 2005