The Gazeebo

A Poet's Place

The Gazeebo: Glendale Poetry Examiner

[DISCLAIMER TO ALL READERS — the content of the poetic piece I provided an excerpt is not for those that are not mature enough, both children and adults.  It is of a more graphic and sexual themed piece, so I don’t expect all of you to appreciate it.  I personally am not a fan of the content of which the book was written about, but her creative tools and techniques intrigued me enough to see it for what it was – a clever and poetic piece of art, written by a very clever woman, that grabs the reader, in one way or another. — END OF DISCLAIMER]


Hey all!!

Great news for me as of late – I got a position on to be a Glendale Poetry Examiner 🙂  If you check it out, you’ll find me periodically posting reviews / articles on poetry books, along with local bookstores, book-fairs, and any shows that relate to the subject of poetry.  It’s an awesome opportunity to throw myself out there more than just writing on here, so I’m pretty excited.  I so want to write for a career… it’s gonna take time, but everything good is worth the wait.

Which, speaking of help, any of those who would like their link on the side of my blog or something, let me know.  If I think your site is legit enough and pretty cool, I might put it up.  Free advertising to get hits on your own site or blog or something.  Never a bad idea 🙂

Well anyway, I haven’t written a poem since the Thanksgiving piece, but I have some prompts that I plan on playing around with a little, so you may see a few posts within the next week or so.  Instead, for tonight, I have an excerpt of the book, Cunt-Ups that I just reviewed on The Examiner.  The book is by a really talented poet and author, Dodie Bellamy – btw check her blog out here.  Just by the title itself, I’m sure some of you are not really interested, but despite me not even being too much of a fan of the content, I quite enjoyed the writing for the tools and creative techniques she used to say what she wanted to say, and keep a hold of the reader.

This excerpt, particularly is from the first “chapter” or “cunt-up,” you may call it.  None of them were named, just numbered.  By the way, I chose an excerpt here that doesn’t really have any actual language that might cause offense to someone.  The actual book, does however include a lot of language in her explanations.

You don’t know how infinite the course of my humiliations for you, singing actually–torch songs of nullity of being/being outside my kind of love, the kind of love the top of the wall carved a hole in.  The rock.  They opened the door and tied me town, a runnel of water/a returned letter.  They tied me down, and I let a turd, the hard absolute hostility of slaves, the infinite  partition of waiting because my eyes were too wide.  I was Jesus, see the dark figure in the empty room alone, all fours tied, cakes, one arm out of the leather.  Then I got a foot out and I couldn’t decide whether I had turned in the electric symbols.  I knew you were there outside in black black black cell of rock.  What else do you want to know about me the rock wall of rock I’m yours.  Chinks of light.  When I was in SF I again thought I was in your wall of light, the UFOs set up a landing near the wailing wall, cement pads.  I painted pictures because I reached the hall of the Double Rhino, I walked around a government building, ripped leaves from the trees and wrote down that I had so many choices.


November 28, 2011 - Posted by | Your Lungren Originals | , , , , ,

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