"There are too many love poems in the world."
"Yes."
"It gets boring after some time. Or maybe there aren't enough."
"I don't write love poems. Mine are more like love poems that are hate poems.They have a bite."
"Yes."
"Like we can't write without being inspired by women and we can't write unless we are free from them?"
"Yes"
The World Literature Blog
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Sunday, July 03, 2016
A "story" someone told me today.
He is this young chap I know from on Facebook. We talk off and on, for some strange reason. Dylan is a connect and so is Cohen and I surprise him at times by writing something he considers way out, on par with Kerouac and others. He writes rhyming poems that all read like Dylan during his best years, to a large extent. But they are good in themselves and very readable. He also writes good fiction. He has a dad and he does weed. He is a college dropout. He periodically posts saying he is in some asylum or the other. We always have extremely sane conversations, though. He has a grandmother. I told him of my son today and he told me that his dad said he was autistic, but we are both not I told him. He agrees.
I said that we always have sane conversations but today it turned bizarre. He said he had jumped off a bridge once and it was because of Dylan. When I asked him which song and which line of Dylan's made him do it he said, no, I met him.
He told me he had once been admitted in some place in Warwickshire for doing weed and was on rehab mode but it was there he had met D. His name also begins with D. Anyway he told Bob that he wrote fine songs and asked him where he could get some acid. He says the trip turned sour on him then, there and he was "Sectioned." It ended with the bridge thing, I guess. He says he knows "what really happened". Despite it being 'written of in the papers and things as something else.'
I asked him if I could steal his story
What for, he asked.
To write as a story or poem, I said.
Sure if you don't use my name, he said.
I haven't.
Wish he hadn't danced with Mr D.
No song finer than Idiot Wind which he, his dad and I all like. The fist line in it seems to have got into his jugular.
Fifty years on, since Blonde on Blonde, and Visions of Johanna.
My son has a lot of very small pots on the balcony of my rented house that he takes and removes the plants from, then pours the mud out into his hands and pours it back. The plants die. They are weeds mad Mary brings. More about her some other time. The pots empty. I say nothing. I have a video of it but do not know how to transfer it from Whatsapp or my mobile phone to here.
That is something that "really happened."
Wish my friend becomes alright.
I said that we always have sane conversations but today it turned bizarre. He said he had jumped off a bridge once and it was because of Dylan. When I asked him which song and which line of Dylan's made him do it he said, no, I met him.
He told me he had once been admitted in some place in Warwickshire for doing weed and was on rehab mode but it was there he had met D. His name also begins with D. Anyway he told Bob that he wrote fine songs and asked him where he could get some acid. He says the trip turned sour on him then, there and he was "Sectioned." It ended with the bridge thing, I guess. He says he knows "what really happened". Despite it being 'written of in the papers and things as something else.'
I asked him if I could steal his story
What for, he asked.
To write as a story or poem, I said.
Sure if you don't use my name, he said.
I haven't.
Wish he hadn't danced with Mr D.
No song finer than Idiot Wind which he, his dad and I all like. The fist line in it seems to have got into his jugular.
Fifty years on, since Blonde on Blonde, and Visions of Johanna.
My son has a lot of very small pots on the balcony of my rented house that he takes and removes the plants from, then pours the mud out into his hands and pours it back. The plants die. They are weeds mad Mary brings. More about her some other time. The pots empty. I say nothing. I have a video of it but do not know how to transfer it from Whatsapp or my mobile phone to here.
That is something that "really happened."
Wish my friend becomes alright.
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