Whatever became of Apples’ notebook?

[PrinceMyshkin]

And what was in it?


I am looking for my misplaced short story notebook I take with me to the park. If you find it,
Will you tell me what’s written in it?


I am thinking...
There was the beginning of a philosophic
debate between a questing limpet
and a man who approached it,
a diminutive man with rheumy eyes and a wracking cough
whom the limpet suspected might be God...

Further suggestions?

[apples of gold]

I’m so glad we’re not quibbling about the existence of God for when I see the children – when I see a child smiling at me with a look of rapture that could nail you to the wall pointing at the thin air and uttering “him, him”, or another running belatedly behind its Mother, looking near me and pleading “I wanna go see him, I wanna go see him” – I want to look the little darlings in the eyes and say “don’t read another book, or a poem, don’t speak another word. Go and see him, then come back and ask me for paper and crayons and a little toy drum and tell me what you’ve found. And if the child has really followed my instructions surely it would build a bridge or name a particle, or craft a violin and play its solo.

But that soon passes and the mundane begins it’s captivating droll.

I’m thinking now “poor limpet!” knowing that rheumy eyes and phlegm could be appealing in a deity one might need to replace, after having been so alarmingly rejected by Virginia Woolf.

But our gastropod needs not my cheering on for it has its portion of beauty and a golden number. By God! It is on a quest! Tragedy does iron out the wrinkles of logic to a cold, hard reason.

Prince how thoughtful of you to start this. Here’s a big, smelly, slippery hug for you.

[Pendragon]

Are you seeking more lines to be written, or comments on what you have written? If the latter, it makes a good start for a poem. I am certainly no expert in your chosen style, Jerry, but I could try a line or so:



I am thinking...
There may have been a thing or three
concerning certain localities breaching all manner of rules—
if I could spare the time to recall
whether or not the letter of the law was comprehensible enough,
or if they might have a point about loopholes...


Not your dash, but hopefully t'will serve...

Pen

[PrinceMyshkin]

Are you seeking more lines to be written, or comments on what you have written? If the latter, it makes a good start for a poem. I am certainly no expert in your chosen style, Jerry, but I could try a line or so:



I am thinking...
There may have been a thing or three
concerning certain localities breaching all manner of rules—
if I could spare the time to recall
whether or not the letter of the law was comprehensible enough,
or if they might have a point about loopholes...


Not your dash, but hopefully t'will serve...

Pen

I was indeed hoping others would join in, as that notebook ran to many pages, and as for the loopholes you mentioned

there was also a passage or two,
something tells me, about those hypothesized
worm-holes in space by which
we might inch our way though
to some other universe
where licorice came in mauve
and hearts were open and free

[apples of gold]

And I think I read a quote about how

Certainty slips away writing its epitaph in the unprincipled pectin of a bosonberry jar.

[firefangled]

Monday, August 6, 2007

I have to stop ruminating and walking this park
the wallet is gone, it may never have been on the bench.

In some other corner of this vast now, it could have been
just a notebook, a $2.49 notebook, or any book, The Dancing Wu Li Masters,
some paperback, not the wallet with...I have to call the bank...