Poetry and Time

I've been finding myself wallowing outside of the periods set aside for such a thing so to help in the process I've taken to filling my time. Got cast as Juliet, Tybalt, and Balthasar in the play next semester, got a movie to make before the fall is done, books to read, classes to ace, poetry to write (see later), and I'm thinking that it's a good idea to go into Philly a bit more often. Spend some time with the brothers, roam a little in my city, etc. Meeting up with Mayte if she ever picks up her phone.

The arrival of Illiteracy last Friday made me finally hear what Tarit's been saying for a while now and ignited my want to do the Poetrizz group thing with him.

Rita's writing the script for my short right now

365 goes up next weekend

I want to reread the Time Traveler's Wife

I feel like I get now what Frost is saying in Stopping by Woods. The woods aren't a period of daydreaming and some place of a goode sort of comfort. They're more that place of comfortable misery that you can drift into if you let yourself. It's like a gigantic tempurpedic matress of sadness with a comforter of regret. Those are the woods. The promises he's got to keep aren't just to others but to himself. Promises to move on. You've got to keep moving or else you'll end up frozen to death in the middle of the woods.

It's interesting how long periods of happy Woods are just as bad as the misery Woods cause both remove you from the world. Stay in the world.



Whose woods these are I think I know.
His house is in the village, though;
He will not see me stopping here
To watch his woods fill up with snow.

My little horse must think it queer
To stop without a farmhouse near
Between the woods and frozen lake
The darkest evening of the year.

He gives his harness bells a shake
To ask if there's some mistake.
The only other sound's the sweep
Of easy wind and downy flake.

The woods are lovely, dark and deep,
But I have promises to keep,
And miles to go before I sleep,
And miles to go before I sleep.

(Break ups are like when you have a cut on your cuticle, and it's in the winter, so the cut takes longer to heal cause it's so dry out and so it hurts more than a regular cut)