less mystery, more me.

Sunday, August 31, 2008

red door dusk

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oak dusk, West University

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crate myrtle dusk

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Splendid Declivities--Jorie Graham

50 Poets in 2 Minutes

another triggXR poem

IF I WERE IN BELLINGHAM TODAY

for Denise

I'd go to your house and follow you around

until you pretend to be mad

and that very moment

I'd take you in my arms

and say Honey, What's Wrong?

and you'd push me away

then burst into tears saying

I'm Not Getting My Needs Met

and we'd walk to your room

sit on your bed

and you'd cry. Holding you,

I'd be covered with hot tears

and snot and long red hair.

Then I'd cry and you'd touch my face

saying, Yes, the Soup,

and we'd breathe up all the air.

Then we'd laugh and eat big life.

Write poems with fat crayons

for little fingers

and fight over the black.


COPYRIGHT 2008 Lisa Trigg ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

vacationing in houston

We have been in West University in Houston for the last few days. If vacationing in Houston not a redneck bonafide I'm not sure what is.

Our little dog Xena had bilateral knee surgeries and had to be on light duty for 6 weeks. We saw no way to keep her quiet in Seattle with our menagerie so we sent her to her grandparents in Houston.

I love Houston. My in-laws have a pool and I spend a lot of time in that pool throwing a half eaten flip flop for Choo Choo who swims with me.

I'm learning to play bridge. I don't know why people want to play bridge instead of poker but it was fun anyway.

Yesterday I went to the wonderful Boutique Day Spa & Salon and splurged on a manicure, a spa pedicure, and a haircut. I love my haircut so much that I can finally get my picture made for the website. I guess I'll have to commute to Houston every month for a haircut! You probably didn't know how vain I am about my hair. I'm told that the Boutique is all word of mouth. So if you come to Houston looking for a fantastic spa experience, go to the Rice Village and find the Boutique.

Yes, it's humid, and yes, I'm here for hurricane season again thanks to Gustav. But when I walk out of the house into that humidity it seems like I'm walking in the warm breath of God.

Friday, August 29, 2008

yesterday's poem

was a science poem I wrote in the early 90's before I went to live in an environment that was not friendly to poems. In that life my job was to bring home money.

I never set out to write poems but I had a spontaneous onset of writing poetry after a week of writer's camp. Hearing the readings of a famous poet every daytriggered something in my brain. Centrum had a stellar line up that year with Robert Hass, Jane Miller, Jorie Graham, Jane Hirshfield, and others.

For the first time I fell in love with poetry but I never really got it. I think I experience the poetry well enough but I don't get why we write it. My poetry came on like a tic and I couldn't get rid of it. These lines went through my mind continuously after this workshop. I couldn't refrain from writing them down because that was the only way I could regain dominion over my thoughts. It was like a condition. I wrote down all the lines as they came and when I had enough, I wrote a poem. To write the poems I used a formula. If I can find the formula, I'll post it here.

The next summer I went back to Centrum and met Olga Broumas, in fact was delegated by Centrum to pick her up at the airport and drive her to Port Townsend. She said she liked my poems.

But why do we write them? I know why I'm a nurse. I know what is important about my nursing and nurse practionering. But why poems?

I'd like to get back to them but I've lost my poetry tic and can't break through these questions.

Now I'm so self conscious that writing is creepy. I liked the spontaneous writing that I did.

Wednesday, August 27, 2008

Why is Science Winning?

I wanted to say something gentle
abt believing in love & starving
for sex & chocolate,
or what it feels like, really,
to say I'm still in love with you,
please come back to me,
but all that is written
on my heart today
relates to the early
beginnings of dinosaurs
& thought experiments
involving fish,
which makes me wonder
is there something wrong
with my mind,
& will I ever pull through this
stupid experimental attitude
abt the spontaneous
hermeneutics
of primary symbols,
the Marian apparitions
and folding icons
of ordinary saints
& contemporary angels
& madonnas
for the masses?
Or an AIDS novel
that will help people
understand and try harder
until believing,
believing in,
believing as,

a nothing seeming
to be something
flies over the pole
& stone takes
its first breath
in the coconut grove
& not between the legs.
Soon it will be a dinosaur.

It's late. I must think of a gift.


2 14 93
COPYRIGHT 2008 Lisa Trigg All Rights Reserved

Thursday, August 21, 2008

poem thursday bonus -- Sherry Chandler

Sherry Chandler reports that her poem "World View" has been nominated for the Sundress Best of the Net Anthology. Her must read is posted at Dead Mule School of Southern Literature!

I like it!

poem thursday--James Tate

Teaching the Ape to Write Poems
by James Tate

They didn't have much trouble
teaching the ape to write poems:
first they strapped him into the chair,
then tied the pencil around his hand
(the paper had already been nailed down).
Then Dr. Bluespire leaned over his shoulder
and whispered into his ear:
"You look like a god sitting there.
Why don't you try writing something?"



From Selected Poems, published by Wesleyan University Press. Copyright © 1991 by James Tate. Reprinted by permission of Wesleyan University Press. All rights reserved.


Found on www.poets.org

Monday, August 18, 2008

wordle--SherryChandler.com


Is this cool or what? triggXR is right in the middle of the sherrychandler wordle.

Ok, Wordle might be among my redneck bona fides.  Na na na na na na!

clarification Kentucky Poet

I've been reading Sherry Chandler for a couple of years. She made me remember Marvin Bell. I love her coverage of the south and southern poets and poetry in general. I found her site when I googled for poetry when I was on light duty for a year. I'm honored she read my post and I did not mean to offend. But really, who would style me if not myself? I can't just wait for someone else to come along and observe my conflicted white self questioning the grand narratives of rednekkidness. Can I?

I cannot possibly put my redneck bona fides up on this blog.

I started my blog after reading her blog. She's my blog mentor except I think I'm more into the Simpsons and South Park than she is. I needed a response to my decrepit brain age that didn't include those hideous puzzles. I liked finding her thoughts there to ponder when I was sick, sitting in my red chair day after day, unable to type, barely able to walk or use a touchpad, the doctors thinking I was a nurse trying to get narcotics, imagining that grad school was over, using my hand for anything was over. Once I lost her URL and spent all day messing around with my browser history trying to find it. I immediately started a blog and figured out how to link to her website so I could always find it. That was my puzzle. I'm now within spitting distance of finishing the dissertation or the "diss" as one of my committee members calls it.

I found the reference to her remarks about Baraka on a "this day in history" widget on her website. I wrote my response in careless haste.

My point was that Amiri Baraka IS one of our Ginsbergs. I can't imagine what courage it took to "come out" as he did, sacrificing his position. I don't especially agree with all his conspiracy theories but I admire his courage. And I love the way he scats throughout his poems. Looking at real life head on and writing and scatting about it is hard as hell. I do not do it. I look but I don't write about it.

I too was in a bad mood after the 2nd Bubba Bush installation. I'm still pretty crabby about it and no longer listen to anything political. I've been sending Obama stuff to the spam folder. I hope he's going to make a difference if he's elected, but I'll be very surprised if he does. If he surprises me I'll send him some money.

Things have gotten so bad in my Texas grandmother's dear country that I have a hard time imagining how we will recover. I guess I have to go back to Religious Science to get my affirmations pumped up.

In the meantime, I'm going to keep digging up Baraka-casts and look for other gutsy poets. I'm not one. And I'm not changing my mind about Ginsberg or NAMBLA. That's where I draw the line. I know too much about the outcome of this kind of stuff. It never ends well for the boys and it's NOT a free speech issue but that's a good cover story. I don't watch Woody Allen movies and I'm not changing my mind about him either.

Sunday, August 17, 2008

Ugly People ---Amiri Baraka



I think I love this guy. I have the same feeling when I read Walter Mosley. How do these guys learn to say this stuff, write this stuff? They think it, feel it, experience it, write it.

All my work just seems so, well, white in comparison.

on writing--Amiri Baraka



This guy writes poems to save his life. Jesse Bernstein was the same way.  He wrote with courage I cannot imagine having.  I asked Jesse one time if he ever worried that his drug use or mental illness would interfere with his writing.  His response was "I always write.  If I wake up in jail, I write.  If I wake up in the hospital, I write.  No matter what else I do, I write."

And they say their scary true thoughts.

When I was focused on my poetry, I worried every day that something would stop me.  As it turned out fear stopped me.  I don't know how to say the true things.

Saturday, August 16, 2008

Somebody Blew up America--Amiri Baraka



I read where a Kentucky poet thought that Amiri Baraka had turned himself into a laughing stock. She was bemoaning our lack of radical poets with respect to the Iraq Occupation. Where is that pedophile Ginsberg when we need him to write war protest poems?

We have who we have and I've had all the same thoughts Baraka has been able to express.

I've decided to highlight Baraka in this blog for a few days and look for the laughs. I assume this is the poem she's referring to. I've found several versions of this poem at YouTube. Some I like better than others. So far I'm not laughing.

wordle of my blog

08:50 and already hot as h-e-double-hockey-stick

I've opened all windows, turned on all the fans and put on some blues music trying to combat early morning lethargy due to oppressive heat.


heat fighting music, Willie Nelson & Wynton Marsalis, Two Men With the Blues:

My Rhapsody Playlist

Thursday, August 14, 2008

purge number 2

No pictures but purged a few cardboard boxes and some out of date paperwork. My sister tells guests who come to my home "Welcome to my sister's boxes..." I guess because of all the cardboard boxes by the door. I don't know what the big deal is about the boxes.

Anyway, some of them are gone now.

new beetle ragtop haiku 1

downtown driving through

the shadows of skyscrapers

wind hair cool cool cool





copyright 2008 all rights reserved

Wednesday, August 13, 2008

lethargy of Seattle summer

Having a little more breathing time after a quick trip to Texas for a family reunion and then worked a weekend. Those weekends go on forever.

I into the Olympics. Our satellite company has an Olympic basket ball channel. We wake up in the morning and watch what we can live, then record the rest. Team USA is hot hot hot! They are literally the Dream Team---Lisa, Tina, Sue, Sylvia, Cappie, etc.

We are also watching diving, swimming, equestrian.

I'm watching sports. I'm watching sports.

Tuesday, August 12, 2008

Sunday, August 10, 2008

sunday morning

birds fussing, little dog wants more breakfast
declaration of love from a cousin who has known me for 50 years
updating luminotes for collaboration
kitchen back together, cabinet doors back up
workspace for grant writing

Friday, August 08, 2008

Goethe pick me up

Swamped today, read Goethe for a pick me up this morning. Have a share!

On Commitment

Until one is committed there is always hesitancy,
the chance to draw back, always ineffectiveness,
there is one elementary truth,
the ignorance of which kills countless ideas and splendid plans:
the moment one definitely commits oneself, then providence moves too.
All sorts of things occur to help that would never otherwise have occurred.
A whole stream of events issues from the decision,
Raising to one’s favor all manner of unforeseen accidents and meetings
And material assistance which no man could have dreamed
Would come his way.
Whatever you can do or dream you can begin it.
Boldness has genius, power and magic in it.

Thursday, August 07, 2008

oh no obama!

I'm voting for Paris Hilton!

See more Paris Hilton videos at Funny or Die



Let's start a movement!

poem thursday--Galway Kinnell

I found this poem on the wall at work. It helped. I stole it. Here 'tis


Sometimes
it is Necessary to
Reteach a Thing its Loveliness.
To put a Hand on the
Brow of the Flower and
Retell it in Words and
in Touch
It is Lovely
Until it Flowers AGain
Frome Within
of Self-Blessing

Galway Kinnell

Wednesday, August 06, 2008

causal modeling music -- Ladysmith Black Mambazo

Ladysmith Black Mambazo


I first heard this group in the 80s when I was a new graduate. They are beyond fantastic.

I was introduced to a very wide world at a large teaching hospital long before I ever heard of the internet. One of the women I worked with wanted to be an ethnomusicologist and she turned me on to all kinds of great music.

Must model now.

Tuesday, August 05, 2008

hoppy hitches a ride

 This little guy hitched a ride with me. I noticed him clinging to the mirror of the new car I bought recently while visiting Texas. I tried to get his picture on the mirror but we were in motion and I couldn't do it. I thought he hopped off several times but he finally wound up here, looking at me through the window. It was a bit uncanny. What does it mean when a tree frog hitches a ride with you and turns himself repeatedly so that he could look in the window and make eye contact.

I just love frogs.
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