Damn Near Perfect! by Mark Edgemon

[Lipinski]

Mark, a personal message, home is found again.
***

To give impression, giving expression; critique and ask questions...
a poem.
"Damn Near Perfect": wonderful title; poem of explanation, in-and-of itself.
'Damn' (so many memories, from hitting fingers, watching politicians, and an Angel flipping God the finger...)
OK
'Near': Enemies nearer, so close, approaching...
and then 'Perfection'...starting to see what I mean?
Your title is the poem and the rest, well the rest is expression.
*
Always something to critique and yet nothing, well, there IS something i see, is there something to see?
I-S
takes too much expression, giving the impression, that IS is everything.
a suggestion?
Not from me and I know nothing except "Damn Near Perfect" which when translated IS, "Damnation IS Near Perfection..."
see what I mean?
IS, is, needs to be demeaned. The letter 'I' has too much power, the letter, 'S' the same.
^
^
just a thought of reflection Mark,
and nice to see you change:
your style is growing,
your words becoming mature,
and I call you my friend.
('I' used correctly, 'S'ee what i mean?)

[Lipinski]

in answer, just a reflection
mirror, always the mirror, telling us the truth when behind the glass, behind a persons back, the truth of action.
words, words, words, what are words if not an extension?
i see you, you see me, together we agree yet...
words, words, words, so subtle filled with so many meanings.
"I Love you Mark," now, what did robin mean?
sarcasm? honesty? sinister leanings? IS this what he means?
*
feeding chickens daily, and one day, no crumbs, yet still the chickens come.
a writer
a poet
a journalist
a healer
a holier
a salesman
a scholar
any and all and yet only a few can do with little or no crumbs yet still feed the masses.
*
words,
words,
words,
what a fun journey we all are on.
*
a public test for you Mark,
one containing little, if at all, any crumbs.
reflect in writing
in words,
an expression of anger, extreme anger, yet the mirror will show sweet flowing honey, words that lead children to rest...
in 33 words, (or less) and contain the following 3 words: 'success', 'joy', 'harmony.'
this IS only a test,
IS only a reflection
and in its creation you will answer your question, one growing and will... (silent lamb sitting beneath the tree,
shade cooling the panting, body hiding stress, thorn planted deep, unseen, all the while the wolf is coming)

[Lipinski]

"Let me know your thoughts..."
written by: the reflection of Mark

Who felt the anger?
You?
We?
I?
*
lackadaisical, fantastical, testicle, popsicle: 'cal', 'cle'
words empty of calories?
why?
harmon'y', ecstas'y', jo'y'.
don't cry little baby,
don't cry.

(always the separate moment, always the correct time, emotions are viewed by the beholder and a good view can be seen both ways)

[Lipinski]

Mark, "I did as did you."
Did you feel it in the thread?
The harmony,
the joy,
the ecstasy?
I pulled on the thread to unravel that comfortable shell most writers wear around their shoulder.
Mark, you do not need to wear the sweater.
Be naked,
raw,
rough,
expose yourself without fear of repercussions,
without need for explanation as nations go to war over the meaning of words, over the comfort of explanations.
Armor, clothes, these are self-imposed limitations a writer places upon themselves.
If I write, "Fuck you, you think yours is bigger?"
Did I offend the reader or make them laugh?
Was I talking of a man catching a bigger fish, or having a bigger penis?
To me, a good piece of writing consists of the naked moment, and not thread.
I once wore the clothes of explanation but why try and hand those clothes to someone else who is allergic to cotton,
or nylon, or fur?
I now have to go bathe in emotion as I'm now covered in the stink of words.

[Lester Curtis]

You're getting closer, Mark.

Everyone has known a boss, family member, or teacher who can shred your ego without raising their voice or using nasty language. I think this is what Robin is after, maybe not necessarily a parent-child interaction.

[Lipinski]

It is nice to see you take off your shoes and socks and dip them into the water
imagine what it will be like when you are naked and shivering
standing next to a highway of words
two lanes of bumper-to-bumper sentences
exclamation points. semi-colons jostling to change spots
what will the words think when they see you trying but still limp?
Show them the erection of your direction...
of the three?
number two i liked best.

[Lipinski]

How To Mark Time

(a challenge, 33 words or less)

Joy!
Patience rewarded,
spoiled child put to test.

Shh, don't cry little baby...
time, (again squalling), time,
patience rewarded.

To see the writer grow,
harmony of success.


(or another)

Mark: The Passage

Success in nature
discover the sex
harmony of God stretched
the joy of the child's orgasm
leading to temptation
knowledge now of evil coddled inside
stroking the message away.

(or another)

Window

Age sitting alone at the shattered glass
hands trembling.
Joy of laughing children
Harmony of family
Success of the tear fallen
echoes of the past
the rock lay silent.

[Lipinski]

oh, the pain. to speak in real time...
Mark, explanation?
You know but know to speak in real time. Try looking deeper, write not for yourself or even this world.
Crazy?
Yes, for sure, indeed,
but...
for you, a look into my world.
***
Opinion of mine since knowing, you have climbed a mountain and still keep going.
Anger? I've insulted you and style to invoke reaction, to show you another world.
Did you see?
***
For one, I'm no poet.
It takes two to tango.
I-S, is what invoked my anger.
Did you see?
***
Explanation?
For the 'three'.
Mmm, lets see.
1. there is 'no' Joy... there will never be 'harmony'...there will never be 'success'. mankind has already failed. anger?
the devil, because mankind tries. God, because (unable). mankind, because mankind is able.

2. knowledge, the 'forbidden' fruit, what 'joy', 'harmony', or 'success' can come to pass? Only 'anger'. what is the cause of all anger? S-E-X. only children shall inherit the world, unless... discovery of a new world, the one of knowledge, of temptation, of 'original' sin, leading to sensory pleasure of endorphins being released in a brain wired of-and-for the world, the same world...remember? Write, 'not for yourself, or even this world.' Anger? If you were the Father and your children disobeyed, what would be your 'emotion?"

3. Okay, a poem nearer to this world. An old man or an old girl, hands trembling in anger while sitting in a home filled with memories of raising children, happy children playing in the living room leading to tears of joy but allowing the tears to turn to anger, the real world of the real time as other children now make fun of the recluse who is now alone, without family, spurned by family, and angry at the recent rock thrown through the window. Is the reader confused? Is the reader angry? Or did the reader throw the rock?

Enough of this play as the curtain falls. The words of mine grow stale. The music shrill. The popcorn stale.
I am but an actor standing on rotten wood.
Reading my lines as best I'm able.
but after?
another world.

[Lipinski]

-------------------------------------------------------------\
|= I cannot talk at the moment; trapped in a box===|
| =some say, 'writers block' others just don't know==|
|= the box, the box is the writers friend.==========|
|=knowing, that's the secret, knowing you are in====|
|=flaps folded, surrounded by words, trapped=======|
|=tape wrapped tight, and when all is lost==========|
|=words winning, thinking of failure and success====|
|=the muse, grinning, tapping tunes==============|
|=you are beginning to understand the rhythm======|
|=in the middle surrounded: bubble wrap, paper,====|
|= the 'eye', the storm of the center, you become====|
|=what only I can be>>><<<you/me>>><<<free======|
--------------------------------------------------------------/

Mark,
in my opinion, you're getting 'better'
and soon without even trying
this 'thing' of writing
this 'addiction' of which there is no cure,
you will write without bounds,
and become a slave to its freedom...

[Lipinski]

(one of my rare moments)

Mark, don't worry about your writing and for sure, don't ask questions.
You and many other writers, (to include, 'all') do not need any mentors, teachers, advice,
torture, rewards, or any other 'word'.

Words have become humanities master and humanity will always have a master be it religion, words, physical pleasure, money;
the trick is to know it and know words are sneaky bastards that have way too much power if we allow it.

For a writer, therein lays the power to force the master (words) to continue to think it is the master but actually that the human emotion controls the word. Sort of like a wife of a president pulling strings.

Your works and the work of every writer I've read is great just the way it is as the writer is comfortable with what they wrote or else they would not have written it. If they write and say they are not happy with it then they have let the words control the emotion and the human side.

As you can see, I'm currently letting those bastard words try and control me so I better switch back to emotion soon, but before I go, you and every other writer out there will be 'bound', 'constrained', 'unhappy', with what they write and will always want more but will never get it because the words know this. As I said, there is no such thing as writers block, just a battle between human emotion and words.

Mark, let your emotions control your writing. Don't give a rats ass if anyone likes it, not even you. And if they or you like it then while that satisfies the ego, don't give a rats ass about that either. Be whatever kind of poet, author, best seller, person you wish. Don't go to writing seminars, ask guru's on top of a mountain, read 'how to' books, or ask questions, just DO. BE. WRITE. and and and (struggling with those f-ing words.) Now if you or other writers want to fall prey to flattery of others or if you find another's critique of your work to be beneficial, that means the emotion of their words are stronger than yours and you can choose them to be another in the long list of masters. Some will say I'm full of bullshit, others will have fallen asleep by now, and others think I need my meds, but success is not measured in money, flattery, or anything else as success cannot be measured, period. Let those slaves in the future decide if your writing is 'good' or 'bad', as for me, I could give one big, hairy, hemorrhoid, polyp, covered rats-ass what they think, will think, or are capable of thinking, I only know I'm addicted to writing and hate the power words have over me. My only revenge is for my emotion to make them do my bidding.
Gotta go back to my world.

A Writer

written below by candle
flickering light of melted wax
the monk puts down the word
letter by letter
line by line
blowing on the ink
never to speak the word of man again
a vow
a vow of silence
when finished with his work,
he holds the parchment to the light
feeling in his mind while inner reciting of the daily prayer
for His approval
and with eternity to be
Gods seal.

[Lipinski]

Yes Mark, fill it with emotion.
fill it with air or dreams
or just throw the pencil and pen away and write with what sets humans apart from other animals
the soul.

Wormtongue's .02 is well spent.