Halves and Wholes

“Squeeze bottle until nearly all liquid is gone. It is not necessary to empty the bottle completely, as it contains more liquid than needed.” — instructions on a bottle of Fleet Enema saline solution.

— B..b..but my parents taught me not to do anything half-*ssed.

A writer colleague was recently told that he had to start a blog. However, since he didn’t want to spend time writing for the blog he could spend writing fiction, he decided to make snide comments about “found writing” he discovers at home and on his daily journeys. Kind of like what I did above.

A couple days ago he picked up a recent collection of my poetry, and here’s the result. (He asked for permission, which I gave.)

A week ago he was reading William Blake, so I’m in good company.

0 thoughts on “Halves and Wholes

  1. DL Emerick

    He spoke a lot about nothing much,
    having said it all too many times.
    Too many times it was all said:
    much was not made by speaking.

  2. John

    Here’s the image I think you were looking for:

    [img]http://www.hirnfick.to/bilder/picdump-01/lustige-bilder-hirnfick-01.jpg[/img]

  3. DL Emerick

    This is more William Blakish:

    [img]http://www.hirnfick.to/bilder/picdump-01/lustige-bilder-hirnfick-04.jpg[/img]

  4. DL Emerick

    Jealousy?

    I have no delusions about my poems,
    I’d debate using that term unquoted,
    though maybe I have written some.

    I would love to think
    someone liked my poems,
    enough to quote them,
    enough to ask permission to use it,
    or, even, them.

    Unlikely.

    So, I ask myself,
    what’s John done,
    or John Doe or Donne,
    that I, another Don E, haven’t done?

    Still, despite my green eyes,
    I’ve heart enough to like what you write, too.

    Well done.

  5. DL Emerick

    You post nothing new.

    That makes me sad.

    Are you wasting your life twittering?

    Let us take the question of halves and wholes seriously, for just a second.

    Two halves make a whole.

    So, whatever Blake may have thought, where is the other half?

    That is the question every blog faces. How do I go on?

    The rest, I submit, most anxiously, is not a half.

    It is, rather, some piece of the illimitable, of the infinite future —
    only a future, vague and undefined, no matter what causation may seem to be.