The Ballad of the Children of the Czar

About my blog

I will post anything and everything that pops into my head as often as I can,  appropriate from my thinking. This is the most likely spot for He was the kind of guy, jokes, quotations, journal and diary entries. It is born free, as free as the wind blows (remember) which way? This starts to sound like FaceBook, and it would be my time better used. There will always be room for comments.

About will also be free, but I need to enlist paying subscribers usually to pay other artists to make the pages interesting enough to draw your eyeballs like the image by Murray Toews to the right, so Patreon is the place to subscribe to MLIP (also being considered as my spoken word persona), Listen, Here to support costs of the listening and writing project,  pain room,  and the New Revised Standard Version of Vicipedia. The old Vicipedia will be stuffed into the Archives with access limited to subscribers through Patreon or directly to my Website, my loyal first 50. 

“suggestion for an arrangement” by Charles Bukowski,  from his collection WAR ALL THE TIME – Poems 1981-1984 read by Victor Enns

Grace Paley writes:

My father had decided to teach me how to grow old. I said O.K. My children didn’t think it was such a great idea. If I knew how, they thought, I might do so too easily. No, no, I said, it’s for later, years from now. And besides, if I get it right it might be helpful to you kids in time to come.

They said, Really?

My father wanted to begin as soon as possible.

[…]

Please sit down, he said. Be patient. The main thing is this — when you get up in the morning you must take your heart in your two hands. You must do this every morning.

That’s a metaphor, right?

Metaphor? No, no, you can do this. In the morning, do a few little exercises for the joints, not too much. Then put your hands like a cup over and under the heart. Under the breast. He said tactfully. It’s probably easier for a man. Then talk softly, don’t yell. Under your ribs, push a little. When you wake up, you must do this massage. I mean pat, stroke a little, don’t be ashamed. Very likely no one will be watching. Then you must talk to your heart.

Talk? What?

Say anything, but be respectful. Say — maybe say, Heart, little heart, beat softly but never forget your job, the blood. You can whisper also, Remember, remember.

CHAOS

I keeping thinking of Get Smart, a sitcom from my youth. CONTROL good CHAOS bad in the Spy VS Spy vein during the cold war. Chaos also describes what I haltingly call my writing process. This will become evident in its expression in the remake of my website. I hope to stick to the new headings and just keep going while I stuff all the old material into my archives as I go. Relish has given me the basic set-up and will redesign the Front Page banner by the end of January. Murray Toews will be helping with the construction of the archives with some snappy images along the way.  I had a good start this morning but am fading fast.

Thursday, Oct 22, 2020

I realize my website fantasy will only ever  border on reality at best. I realize I want to blog for every heading in my banner. So for now, I am double posting my blog, aka my daily flog or fog until I can be sure the “first” blog has settled in under B in the archives. That’s not all, I plan to blog for “Listen, Here,” for sure and then create content unsteady as he goes for MLIP (My Life In Pieces) which will largely be video and audio podcasts, “pain room,”attempting to become an outsider art show, and annotate The complete Jimmy Bang,which now has many more new and blues poems the original 32 punk poems. And what to do with the Mennonite Book of the Dead, aka Dead Mennonites, Boundary Creek and What Men Do.