I believe in being prepared for any given situation. It isn't because I'm a pessimistic person; I think it is just good common sense. Hence, I've entitled my blog "Even Nothing is Something."

This covers my butt in any event. On any given day I can feel great exaltation that I have done something grand. I can scribble fiercely when my thoughts are leaping across the meadows of my mind like a happy little colt in the month of May, or my mind and writing can be as dry and arid, as cold and without life, as the Gobi desert - because even Nothing is Something.

I want to thank all of my fellow artists who work through other means and forms and who sell their work on the wonderful artist's site "Etsy," a place to buy and sell all things handmade, along with vintage items and supplies for their craft. They are a great group of people.

Those who have links to their site on my blog represent only a few of those whom I wish to include. Just click on one of those links and join the Etsy community. It is free. They are a great group of artists who have relieved me of my money in the most delightful of ways. If it weren't for their encouragement, I would have never shared my work through this blog.

Thank you my darling friends!

Enjoy my blog - The Poet or Not - More or Less

Tuesday, June 16, 2009

Apology to Caryn

The ancient Greek Philosophers were often a well mannered sort - at least in their formal writings, who knows how they scrapped amongst themselves without gentlemanly intent. One of the ways they stuck up for one another was to write an "apology" in behalf of that person or sometimes in behalf of themselves, hence, the Apology to Plato and so forth, if there was some dispute about an individual's conceptions and ideas.

The poem I'm going to share is of that sort. My brother, Allen and I once had a lengthy conversation about our brother, Paul, who is quite a charming shyster. I was still under the spell of his charms. Allen wasn't. He was trying to convince me that Paul was undeserving of my financial assistance, that he, indeed, was taking advantage of me. I wasn't ready to believe that.

Allen, who often has keen insight into his sister's way of thinking, told me, and I quote, "Caryn, you don't see people for who they are; you see them for whom you want them to be."

I wrote a poem that is somewhat like something Plato might have written for Socrates, except I've written it for myself. Since writing this, a long time ago, I've learned that Allen, in all his youth, was quite right. Still, I refuse to eliminate this poem from my collection.

My apology advances the idea that all of us are different - some are soft hearted and some are more practical, but we all have our place in the scheme of life. I now realize that being too soft hearted helps no one. So, I wrote a second poem about the struggle within oneself of following either good sense or giving in to sentimental sensibility. I'll also post that poem. May all of you have better judgment.

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