excerpt from my journal…

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9 June, 2017

Twenty minutes. I have twenty minutes to make an impression and I’m wasting it with this drivel. I’ll apologize now and get it over with, but I won’t promise that there won’t be more apologies as the text continues to unfold. And, to say the text will “unfold” is just convenient flowery talk for the idea that I am currently writing with no real goal in mind other than to fill up a page and kill the twenty minutes I originally mentioned.

WC12-001 27-1I am succeeding at both. I’ve got a paragraph written and I now only have 19 minutes to murder.

You may have noticed if you look at the divisions, the chapter headings, the markers in this document, that there are days missing. A good journalist, not necessarily a news writer, but merely one who at least claims to verb it along, as in one who journals, I would think would create an entry every day. Within every 24 hour period there would be written documentation, a document, some text, that would be associated with that calendared span of time.

(stop the clock – I want to go get a warmer on my coffee and taste the biscuits I pulled out of the oven about 30 minutes ago. Yes, they will be cold by now, or maybe tepid, the butter won’t melt through them, but they also won’t burn my sensitive mouth. And my mouth is sensitive. brb.)

Okay. I’m back. Sorry about that. Yes, the biscuit was tepid, but still tasty with a slathering of butter and some peanut butter that I made the other day.

What? You don’t make your own peanut butter? It’s really quite easy. I have one of those Ninja food processors. I buy jars of peanuts at the market when they’re on sale, usually one unsalted and the other dry roasted or lightly salted. I’ve used the “honey roasted” peanuts before and it’s a little too sweet for me, but still, it tastes mighty good. I’ll do it specifically if I am making some peanut butter for, say, my little sister, who likes such things. Anyway, regarding the making of peanut butter, I just dump two jars of on-sale peanuts from the market, usually 2 for $5, into the Ninja food processor, secure the lid, and turn it on crush. It takes, oh, about seven or eight minutes for it to get good and smooth. Then all I have to do is use a spatula, and sometimes my fingers, to transfer the peanut butter into a plastic container. Yeah, I should use glass. Maybe when I get to California I’ll get some glass containers. As for using my fingers to assist in the decanting of peanut butter from the Ninja to the storage unit, the blade gets kind of gunked up and it’s hard to scrape it clean without really getting in there with my fingers to get to every nook and cranny. The peanut butter is valuable and should not be wasted.

With that, I have achieved my goal. It is now 9 a.m. and twenty minutes past my start time. I’ve written a short piece which I will analyze before moving on to my next chore. Thank you for the privilege of your time and attention, and if you feel as though you’ve been cheated, well, I apologize.

a first draft of poem for Orphée

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I will dream I will dream
I will dream I will dream
I will dream I will dream
I will dream I will dream

read it aloud
read it aloud
read it aloud
read it aloud

I will dream I have dreamed
I will dream I have dreamt
I will dream I have dreamed
I will dream I have dreamt

Reed it aloud
Red it aloud
Reed it aloud
Red it aloud

Say it aloud
Say it out loud
Say it aloud
Say it out loud

Reed it Red it Dream it Dreamt it
Read it Read it Dream it Dream’t
Dream it Dream’t
Reed Re’d
Out loud
All ‘oud
Aloud
All out

Dream it Loud it All loud Allow
Dream it Out it Allow loud it
Dream it seem it sound it say it
I dream I dreamed I say I dreamt I said I reed I red I sed
a stream of breath blown across the reed, a tone, a hue I dreamed of dew
fracturing light from dawn’s golden touch, sprayed and splayed in sheets
of told transmissions, received by dreaming listeners, colors, singers
Out loud.

the Text stands for itself it stands alone out loud allow it to stand as freestanding text alone

21 May MMXVII
©2017 Stuart Dummit

three twitter posts, an aside;

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Twitter doesn’t allow me enough letters to build the cages needed to contain my thoughts, wild beasts that they are. Beware: danger lurks in    [4 May 8:51am]

Verse with no structure no limits but engineered to grind and slither into places; no hashtags no keywords no marketing, just out there…   [4 May 8:53am]

Will anyone decipher the code transmitted like shortwave signals across moist ether? Will it excite or just fester like an unattended wound?    [4 May 8:57am]

©2017 Stuart Dummit

{there was a post that I deleted before posting. i thought that i had saved it but perhaps not…. the gist was that federal law prohibited me from saying some things that were streaming through my brain, and i thought that was perhaps a good thing. i nullify my actions with the safety valve of deletion}