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JIMMY WARNER DESIGN,
February 9, 2006
upon wading up the Rubicon...
I read your poem
once this morning and once this evening. In between, I looked up
Rubicon, and discovered that in addition to being a river, it also means
irrevocable commitment. Now that I am deeper into
the poem, I really
like that title. I don't understand the reference to Woolsthorpe Farm
(I could look it up) I like especially the phrases, "relentless as
house cleaning" and "...clear the room like a bomb scare...." It has
taken me several readings to take in the action and the motion, and the
fainting is beautifully described: "When all goes white and fades, and
people talking indistinctly Turn your looks into a prayerful gaze that
doesn't faze them, Doesn't alert them to your fainting til you hit the
floor and even Then the amazement only grabs a momentary silence...."
wow, its beautiful-- you make me wrestle, but then when I get it, it's
I love "as long
as you are able to confess that Up til now, banality has been your
savior and that the greatest Revival is yet to come." That really
speaks to me, and that "the heedless angel wants you to kiss larger
larger mammals than you." To take on more than is easy. And the final
line is the grabber. (There you are again with your threesome!) I
think I would like it best if ARTS were not capitalized. I think its
about spiritual awakening that is brought on by near-death, but the
wake-up call is about not settling for the easy but reaching deep into
the art. Thank you for sharing that with me... it is a lot of work to
get it, but so worth it. Tell me which others are important to you that
I would love to struggle with.... please.
JUN 16 2005
Until I read this book,
Drowning Procedure, (Volume
I had no idea how important your poetry was. Jimmy, this is sublime
stuff, and I don't
mean "important" just to the few of us fools who gather down
there at the Bottom from week to week; Beyond that, away from that.
This poetry is of the imagination and floats with the best of them,
imagination being a quality too scarce in modern writing. Or so I
thought until I read this book. I'm waiting for this flimsy,
paper-bound book of yours to simply spontaneously combust in my hands
and float off as ash towards the sky from whence it came. If ever my
poetry becomes so hopelessly passionate I will have achieved something.
And with this I send you a few poems. I was honored that you asked
to post some of my stuff, though three favorites are hard to find. I
simply don't know what people like and fear it is different from what I
DEC 2002 §§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§§
I didn't write
From the editor:
Poems I Didn’t Write That Year
Roasted on the Dash
were no 9-1-1 calls to all muses for inspiration when two local poets were
nearly roasted alive while dashing to the Women’s Speak poetry reading
back in May (02). Shann did publish her blaze orange chapbook, Dashboard Fire,
though without any explanation of the title. The book also refers to
drawings by Alia which I would love to see, but were strangely missing.
Art Center No Show
were some poems I didn’t write based on things that didn’t happen
although I alluded to the art center no show in a poem called No Show Gig
earlier this year and dedicated it to Kelley for bravery in showing up even
though the gig was cancelled.
Men and Women Didn’t Speak
of the first things we talked about this past year was Janine’s
wonderful idea to do a Men&Women Speak to Each Other, which has fallen
on deaf ears. And, where the hell is Janine? Of course there aren’t
enough women in the group to pull that one off anyway.
Feeling Like a God
first invitational reading, MenSpeak at Artspace, would have been a poem about being on a high so exalted that
I didn’t come down for a week, because I got to read with Richmond’s
greatest men poets. Kelly can take that as a complement. In my reading I
featured how Billy Graham upstaged me with his crusade at a gig in Boston
– took away my mic, my show, my purpose and replaced it with another
agenda, to bring the poetry of the spirit to the stage as I do now, albeit
simpering and complaining as usual.
Weight Gain from a Steady Diet of Poetry
all that sitting in front of a computer, writing in my journal and pacing
up and down when I should have been jogging or weight lifting taking more
starry night walks and fewer Milky Way candy bars. When I stepped off the
scale at 204 pounds I looked at myself in the mirror and said, “Okay, no
more Mr. Fat Guy”.
© Jimmy Warner,
*2007 - Janine is fine, we had dinner.
Send me your comments
© Jimmy Warner, 2016
1 thru 28
insult your very nature