Found Fridays #1

I've decided to create a new section to my blog called, "Found Fridays". I will take things I've found outside and write poems about them. Maybe even a short story or two. I found this name plate in a copy of Frances Bacon's essays at our bookstore. Here is the poem I wrote it's called,

Anna Cecille

I found you Anna

inside of a book.

Did you know you were lost?

Perhaps you left on purpose.

I found you Cecille

With glue on your back.

Did it bother you?

Perhaps you like being sticky.

I found you Moorman

On Mr. Bacon's essays.

Did you read them?

Perhaps he wasn't to your taste.

I found you Ann Cecille Moorman

Your embossed letters seemed important.

Did you ever feel important?

Perhaps you will now.

Dear Kin

This is a letter I found the other day......

Dear Kin,

This is a goodbye letter, although if you ever read this I'll deny writing it. When I first met you I thought you were pretty cool and as I got to know you I knew I wanted to keep getting to know you. But we were both young and I was terribly good at hiding my feelings from you. So we spent a year being friends and a year of me wishing we were more. We graduated a grade and then were seperated, but I was just realizing the depth of my feelings for you. I can say I thought I was in love with you now, because I think it was a first love type thing. Can I really call it that if you never had any idea? After all this I had to get used to not seeing you everyday and I hated it, even more so because you didn't seem to mind. Occasionally I would see you in public, but I didn't need to see you because I was still in love with the old you. I even kept this stupid note you wrote me-

"Dear Sara,

Yeah I kind of like her like that. But she's my friend too so why does she think she's not my
friend. Because she is. But thats one thing Ally told you that I liked Kelly man she tells
everyone. Man I can't tell her anything without her telling you it. Oh well your my friend
and I know you won't tell anyone and if you do I'll find you and we interupt this message
cause it contains some naughty words for little girls like you.

From your friend,
Kin

P.S. Sheryl isn't that bad and I suck at writing notes."

Isn't it pathetic that I kept this? I don't care. I will keep it untill my real love replaces it with something that will mean more to me. This stupid note even has tear stains on it, can you believe that? Yes, it turns out I can be more pathetic. Thats because I was crazy enough to believe in fiction. That if I kept dreaming of you and "pining" for you, you would appear and love me. So I am saying goodbye to you now because I am tired of romanticizing the Kin I thought I knew. You were never perfect and you were never mine. Maybe now I can move on and find someone else, maybe.

Goodbye my almost lover,
Sara




Wasn't that sad? Poor Sara, do you think she ever told Kin how she felt? Probably not. Oh well, I guess if you want romance on hand read a book. Or find a letter.

Sayonara Friends and Potential Enemies
What? I could have enemies.

The voice in my head told me to....write.

These are the facts.

1. I want to write.

2. I need to write.

3. I hate most of what I write.



How can I ever get going and stop whining? Argh. I found this poem by Sylvia Plath in a book of her letters, that her mother had published. Funny thing is my Mother bought the book for me :) . Anywho here is the poem---
You ask me why I spend my life writing?
Do I find entertainment?
Is it worthwhile?
Above all, does it pay?
If not, then, is there a reason?...
I write only because
There is a voice within me
That will not be still.


That is exactly how I feel, that there is a voice inside me demanding I write. But of what use are my words? There are millions of writers out in the world, do I even stand a chance? My lovely Mother says that if you love something just do it, don't try and make a profit off of it. Maybe that's my problem, I'm very good at over-complicating things. For example next time you see me, ask me what my favorite color is. :)



Sometimes when I see numbers I add them all together and then divide them by however many numbers there were. I love discovering the outcome and for a few seconds I don't feel so empty headed when it comes to math. When I was younger I used to enjoy math especially dividing and multiplying, it felt sort of like magic to me. But then as I got older and math got harder I lost interest and was convinced I couldn't do it. Where is my motivation??? I could have kept at it with a little hard work and sticktoittiveness. How did I get talking about math?! Motivation that's what I need, caffeine gives it to me sometimes mostly when I drink too much.



I've given myself a challenge that I have to admit was not my idea. Kate Bingaman-Burt wrote and illustrated the book Obsessive Consumption. The author illustrated her purchases for three years annotating on each one. I thought this was an interesting idea and that I should try it for a year. Because I don't buy something everyday and I'm constantly wondering where my money is going. I believe I started April 2nd, I'll see if I can post some of my drawings. It figures that right after I start this challenge, my family and I go garage saleing and all of our purchases get mixed together >:( . I'll try and sort it all out, and maybe I'll have gained some motivation and discipline by the time this year is over!

William Stafford

I have posted the poem A Story That Could Be True by William Stafford before, so I won't post it again. But I have to talk about it. I love finding music, art or literature through movies. It makes me feel like I didn't just waste two and some odd hours sitting in front of a screen. Mr. Stafford's poem found me this way, on a t.v. show, I don't watch anymore. A character in the show quoted the last couple of lines from the poem and I was smitten. Of course I googled it and loved the rest of the poem as well. After I copied it in my "everything" notebook I realised I needed to read more of William Staffords poetry. A person blessed with a comfortable wallet would probably have just ordered a book of his poetry online. Alas, my wallet is usually lonely and empty, so it was either wait for my birthday to come along or go to the library. I'm not so good at waiting so the library was my destination. I could've gone to our local library, but it is a smaller library and usually disappoints me. Warsaw's library is where I was disappointed this time. They have such a huge collection of poetry I thought I'd find what I desired. Nope, they had a book about him sort of biography-ish with a couple poems. What a bummer, it looked as though l'd have to wait for my birthday after all.
Aha! Not so this time!!! I recently got a part-time job at our local library. Thus proving that I do in fact love books. Being a partner of a used bookstore and now a librarian!!! I'm still so excited with my new job. I am surprised with how busy we get sometimes, and then there are times when I have absolutely nothing to do. Of course the other librarian working with me has stuff to do but can't think of anything that I could do. This makes me afraid that my fellow librarians will see me doing nothing, complain and then fire me, so I try to stay busy walking around organizing shelves and straightening books. On one such venture I found myself in the poetry section and what do my eyes behold but a 249 paged book of William Stafford's poetry!!!!!!
Ah, the benefits of a paranoid librarian. :)