Poetry > Phone

source of quote unknown, source of art also unknown

If folks ever wonder what I’m doing, or how I’m doing or whatever… they can figure it out through reading my poetic dispatches. To me it’s very obvious but I suppose it shrouded in mixed- metaphors, curious phrasings and obtuse examples. Though to me, poetry is one’s life distilled to core essence. Far more sincere than “catch-up chitchat“ on a phone call.

Also (vaguely related):

My journals/notebooks/scrapbooks etc. are the most precious items which I keep safe and stored (keep in mind I have very few possessions). Most all of the contents is sort of in the “code of poetry” – specifics are known only to me and someone would have to be *very* dedicated to interpret the metaphors into facts and emotions. There something in Nabakov’s Lolita which expresses similar sentiment (no creepiness intended).

Question: If you shred your journals, will you make something out of the scraps from the shredder?

Whatcha think?