THE TYPEWRITER PROJECT
I was going to try to respond to Roland, but then I thought NAH, I CANTBECAUSE HE IS SIMPLY NUTS. But while he may be, it begs the question: What is if the world he is exeriencing is far more rich, multi-dimensional and complex than that that we perceive. It is all relative, and I wonder
if his life -rife with fears and edelusion -is richer r than anything any
of us could imagine...because for him, its not just imagination. Sorry for
all the typos.
HELLO My name is Roland Wojczal and i live in the east village between 4th st and ave a and in i am a targeted individual by electronic harassment by microwaves and lasers every day for the last 2 years no sleep emt fire department and nypd and honking getting zapped in my heart and lungs and throat thks
WHYWHY NOW?WHY YOU? WHY DID YOU?
WHY TRUST?
WHY IS SACRED
WHY WAS SUPPOST TO BE SAFE
WHY DOES IT FEEL SO BAD RK
know what,s funny? we've gotten so accustomed to autocorrect, none of usknows how to type or spell anymore. for shame...what an unusual weekend...
OCEAN< BY< AND THROUGH WHICH i feel the return. to what? i havent seen it not yet but maybe soon. very soon..soon:A WORD That identifies
proximity yo now. now;afterthought. for thought to soon, but not now. paul says there is no present, only thought between thoughts, estimation
between the tow thoughts. but soon, i will know what i cant return to
because there is no return. sky, what has never been. sky. ive look to it before but have only felt distance. distance!! so close to now, discance i
that is soon. and the clouds tearing away from each other. they move fast, moutainious. mountain:memory. sky: future. ocean,fluid. pull. pipull
there is nothing left to feel. there is nothing left to feel i am sure of it. i can only use words
others have felt and that is no good because words arent anything. but
that what it seems that i am in the business of. words: by product.
so they say. i guess. so i can just sit here and think for a time. think in words. i guess. but there is someone else who wants to go and i dont want to go. but they will make me go. but i just like sitting here and h
hammering away. so sue me. many typos:irrelevant. i might as well stop warming up. lets begin: FROM THE BEGINNING THEN:
shadows, i am waiting.
its like, everytime, i remember, i forget. but once i forget and once it Is forgotten, then the sky breaks, and i can see it against, fast moving
the clouds, moving faster in my mind than they do anywere else. and it comes back to me again like it did before. and it goes, like it did before.
i ki(i like the sounds of this typewriter) using it:today i made history the man reading his texts say:gay marriage. i dont even believe in straight marriage. people are watching this. better not use any good likes.the poem above me sucks.
i dont mind saying that, because i am an asshole. forards. i type forwards not back waradaaaw machine getssds
getssss tagnleds. i want a cigarrete. i might as well do
something cohesive. so i gues i should begin again because as they say
writing is fyb.
here is the real one. i wish i could fall
into a hole of noiselessness.
it brings me such stillness
to know no sounds.
i like the sound of this thing.
i wish i had a cigarette.
Time travel:
I didnt believe in time travel until recently.
Then one day, somewhete in 2006 or so I woke up and it was 1959.
WTF???
But today, I think we began to awaken again.
Sure we need to correct the recent reversals of voting rights and womens
right? (Who would think we would still be debating abortion??? But today, a small step forward (OK yesturday) but the big step
towards civil rights for gay Americans has taken place.
Still can be fired for being gay, and haters will still try to say
they wont serve the gay, but marrage begins and when the haters wake up
and realize they world they know had not changed. we might return back from
1959 back to the 2000*s.
Gods speed back to the current century.
There is great ease in this big green place.I can remember my family here watching red tailed hawks glide by.
goldie, jerry and carol i think of you.
Poetry is purging Poetry is wonderPoetry is exploration
Poetry is blunder Poetry is human
Poetry is divine Poetry is yours
And Poetry is mine
leave it better than you found it gods I ordanied you Who I am is no
no
Who I am is not who
Find me drowned
Aw
shadow of who I was
Destroy
Me
But call me yours
the only thing thatcould make this better is if
a rainbow appeared sometimes grey days serve a purpose though ive tried to telll you that before
maybe now youll see my reason
and wont be so focused on the light
onward and upward we gowithout a care for what they know fingers bend and between themselves race
tapping and jumping at uneven pace
when necks crane and eyes blue look forth
the gypsies of midsummer dance and leap in mirth
with arrows for arms and jettisons for feet
they laugh jaded tears to our unspoken beat
today we must lern to love each other no matter our differnce becaues the future depends on it
today I made ancient history In this year 2015 by law gay marrige was legal in all 50 states Horray We still have some more problems to
fix but at least we got this one crossed off the list !!!!
helllohello today i feel really tired of everything i dont know why everything is s
so horrible. there are so many issues that concern sysytemic power stru tures that makes me sad. why are things trickling down to lived experien
ces that are all just small pieces of a large puzzel. i wish the puze
l would not be so much like this . . . gonna pet some dogs and relax now
on this lovely P ride Sunday , kep in mind..love sees ALL colors, shapes,sizes, religions, and orientations! how exciting to be who you
are and belie e in it/however you feel!Just be
Just live, Just love, Just
Write! ;)brilliance to bring back typing in the new world we exist in
JRW ^ ?^ 6/28/15
Ultimately, we seek in all things transcendence from the world we are inand anything that gives us a taste of that is as valuable as gold. I think if I didn;t feel so self consciousus being here in public I could
come up with something better but all that comes now is pretentious words
but that, i suppose, is what we call the process.
While there is much glamor in the idea of the revolutionary, real changetakes grueling work that few cherish. Ultimately the revolution will be,
must be, boring. This is the case with all arts, inclyding writing. It is a
sad, sad world where such beauty requires such drudgery. The final product
the result of a sanity-taxing yawn inducing process. Why does beauty require
such banality? It is meant to look effortless, we want the illusion of
spontaneous genius. We want to believe beauty springs from our heads fully
formed like Athena from the skull of Zeus. But often times, the truth is the
greater the beauty, the more boring the process ultimately was. So why mke
art? Be xcause this process if done right allows even the artist to be fooled
caught in his own process and forgets the work. It is like a mother who forgets how trying babies are when she thinks of having another.
The dog in the night began to howl inccessantly. It cry echoed for miles. The full moon above bore witness to the dead man the dog stood watch overas she keened into the night. It was the third night in a row her cry floated
over the grassy step. The blood on her paws had long since dried. Soon she would need to leave if only to find food, but she didn;t want to think
about that just yet. For now she onkly wanted the world to know the dpths
of her sadness at the loss of the one who had kept her safe all these years,
the one she could not herself save.
Thank you Poetry Society for this wonderful opportunity to pound onthe keys in a tiny cabin like phone booth. One more.....The Alexander TechniqueShe sits.
Translucent.
I place one hand on her
neck and skull
and the other on her forehead.
I am holding a Universe.
She breathes, waiting---
for me to begin the standing
and the rest
happens. Cate McNider 6/24/15 first published here :)
Opening (title)___________________________________ thank