One Way for Poets to Get Good Material…

“I don’t get why people can’t just be nice to one another, it isn’t even that hard. Assholes give poets good material though.”  — Andreas Blaustein

I do not know Andreas Blaustein, but I happened to come across the above comment of his this morning, which he left on my friend Nayana’s blog.   I think his comment resonates with a whole lot of us, no?


When Coconuts Come Alive

It is curious how often we are coconuts.
How often we are seeds, just seeds.
Seeds drifting for decades in a desert
That holds nothing for us, except waves
And more waves, and storms, and waves.

We survive, but only
Because our shells are thick and hard.
Thick and hard.

The waves cannot drown us.
The storms cannot break us.
The sharks cannot eat us.
The sea snakes cannot poison us
Because we are thick and hard.

We are well-protected, it’s true.
But we are not alive either.
We are thick and hard
But we are not alive.

For to live is to grow,
And we do not grow.
For to live is to thrive,
And we do not thrive.
For to live is to flourish,
And we do not flourish.

This can go on for decades,
This suspension between life and death,
It can go on for decades.

Then we beach! Most of us never do.
Most of us drift without ever beaching,
Drift suspended — for ages.

Only a few of us find the sand;
Put out shoots that reach up
For the sunlight,
Put out shoots that reach down
For the freshwater.

It is curious, so curious
How when we broke our shells,
How when we cracked ourselves open
And became green
And became vulnerable.

How when we became so tender,
So open, so vulnerable that we bound,
Fated, destined and doomed ourselves
To get hurt, to get stung, to get bitten and poisoned

How that is when,
How that is precisely when
We came alive.

This poem is a rework of a poem I first published some time ago.


What Have You Been Studying?

What have you been studying recently?

What’s the most striking thing you have found out?

I take notes when reading up on something. I have done almost no reading up on anything new for the past six weeks, but — going back further than six weeks — the four most recent subjects I have read up on (according to my notebooks) are:

(1) The impact of French postmodernism on the West with especial reference to its consequences for erotic pole dancing.

(2) The concept of arete in ancient Greek culture, including Kitto’s analysis of arete’s role in the aesthetic maturation of ancient Greek pole dancing.

(3) Newberg’s five characteristics of enlightenment experiences as revealed via fMRI brain scans of erotic pole dancers.

(4) Kolmogorov’s contributions to probability theory and especially the application of his contributions both to random walks and to random pole dance maneuvers.

As you can see, I’m a scatter-brain with no known center of focus.


He was Joking! …um…I hope.

A friend of mine just a few minutes ago referred to my personality as “exciting as a literary review of blogs about sock drawers.”

I am still laughing because, of course, he was joking.  What a good joke!

Um… you do think he was joking, don’t you?

Um… of course he was joking, right?

All the best,
Paul “Hope Springs Eternal” Sunstone



Corny Love Poem #47

My dear, my darling, my heart,

Without you,
I would never start.

I would stay in bed beyond the dawn.
I would miss the dew upon my lawn.

I would not smell the morning air.
I would not wake, nor would I care.

I would not hear the birds were singing.
I would to my sheets still be clinging.

Without you, my darling love,
Without you, my dearest heart,
I would never start
(Unless I was thrown
From my bed
By my farts).