BIT OF A SHITTER

IM A CONCRETE POET AND I DIDNT KNOW IT

I recently had a discussion with a knowledgeable other on the conclusion being... talk in fragmented sentences...all over the shop. none making sense unless you hear/read it in its completeness.

Ok

I will go with that, this for me is a compliment.

I always knew I had a box of frog syndrome

over here

over there

up down up down

up ...this con sometimes, for me only represent in my head

I love my new badge and intend to wear it with pride! shout about it

FOR ALL TIMES SAKE

tonight, I intend to read several of my new poems to an online collaboration of Arty types. I love it, a number of tonight's collection are specialists in their field <3 I swell with pride.

I have not come this far to only come this far.

Concrete poetry

Mono-line poetry

I am sort of going with the flow of what is happening to me.

What am I doing here?

Who would have thought, a girl who left school, failing at most subjects. EXCEPT art and English literature

I was pants at English, grammar, spelling, pronunciation. Just, good at coming up with imaginative stories. I did not read anywhere near enough. Diddly squat to be fair. EXCEPT I seemed to spend my time reading the phone book, I could rhyme off a name, for each page, address and phone number. Impressive, eh.

For the full book.

I am still tickled by ZarZar Handbag … nearly 50year later. Why do I hold this shit in my head so many years beyond? I don’t remember what I came into the room for t2minte ago, but came rhyme off for you …

Mrs Brown 42 Brandale street 02824291 – or the fact that I laughed for about an hour, actual tears streaming down my face, thinking a person was called Mr ZARZAR HANDBAG

Anyway, I digress … the point being, I seem to have begun a journey that would have made my English teacher proud, she used to despair at me for not reading, she / we didn’t know why I struggled so much with reading, concentrating. I had no access to books at my home, except the paper, the library was too calm for me. I would be told off at the drop of a hat, ssssssssssssssssssssssssssssshhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh was the cry. I was noisy to be fair, nick name that Mr man... ooo look her comes little miss noisy, my sister was little miss bossy. So, I was cool with the noisy description, pretty accurate to be fair.