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Dr. Bob is Robert Hsiung, MD,
bob@dr-bob.orgShown: posts 1 to 4 of 4. This is the beginning of the thread.
Posted by Tap on July 19, 2002, at 14:27:12
We had some threads a few years back where we discussed creativity and depression. Many mentioned writing and poetry. I wonder if there might be some who'd be interested in sharing some of their creative work.
Taptap
Posted by susan C on July 19, 2002, at 17:46:18
In reply to Creative Writing Group., posted by Tap on July 19, 2002, at 14:27:12
Posted by Ritch on July 19, 2002, at 21:42:31
In reply to Creative Writing Group., posted by Tap on July 19, 2002, at 14:27:12
> We had some threads a few years back where we discussed creativity and depression. Many mentioned writing and poetry. I wonder if there might be some who'd be interested in sharing some of their creative work.
>
> TaptapHi Tap,
I did a lot of that in high school. I do technical writing now as part of my job. I have got *ideas* for artworthy projects, but unfortunately they are more tilted towards visual rather than verbal arts. When it comes to writing that is non-technical my best stuff is improvised. I can't plan out and polish anything over time. I like the idea you have come up with however. Over on PSB there has been quite a bit of what you are talking about recently. I agree with Susan about *this* being my creative writing outlet! I find that task oriented writing comes easier to me.
Mitch
Posted by Shawn. T. on July 20, 2002, at 0:04:20
In reply to Creative Writing Group., posted by Tap on July 19, 2002, at 14:27:12
I'll go ahead and post some stuff. Think of them like a play, but with words. Like word-play. I tried to pick out a variety of things that all had something of an underlying theme (psycho babble perhaps?).
I'm gone and lost among it
Double-exposed and I've thrown a fit
Then I wake up, in your make-up
Call your number and say wassup
I know what is going on here
You are gone and I am there
I pick up the phone and hear my voice
Now you've got to make a choice
Saying something very frightening
All our senses receive a heightening
Double helix double take
Who are we for heaven's sake
Tripping forward flying faster
Which is slave and which is master
Taking over for your functions
We are swapping at these junctions
Nothing left for us to be
Because I am you and you are me
Well I don't know what I've been told
I've been lost and you've been sold
Switching bodies switching minds
As we dance in double binds...
Dragging my feet till the day is done
Stretching my legs under summer sun
Meaning is lost and days go by
Slicked all back and on the sly
Slipped away what can I say
Walking the walk on a crazy day
Fields of madness skies so sane
Feel the darkness in the rain
Air condition and a strange transition
Dragging my feet on a daily mission
Ultimate wonder all torn asunder
Sound surrounds the biggest blunder...
big chair happy land
sleepy sleep comfy
swirling color
day glo crazy
hazy hazy hazy
big chair inside
mind afire outside
songs play
sweet scratchy scratch
indifferent melodies
wires and feline masterpiece
no no no
all wrong alright
nomad fingers
drowsy and confused
on the wagon
off at the pass
winged furniture
various positions
on no time
other dimension
over here
night night...
(Ode to trepination, on Paxil)
tension suspension
fifth dimension
particles fly
immaterial sky
every thought
haunts mind's
flight
from stale doom
skull
is tomb.
hole in head
free the
dead
these cellular masses
from impending
bad omen
again
and
again and again.
eternal
eye piece
to shiny
new lease
of life
unfulfilled strife
is not
what this seems.
let in
children dreams
swollen scenes
and the dangerous
ideas
with
drill
or
laser beams.
secret world
mind unfurled
full-bore
w/ door
to great
beyond
and
on and on
with
delicious cherry
sits atop
in pit.
breathtaking
imagery
bloody bath
waking life
the night's
wrath
envelopes
until
bone
loveth
metal.
...Part I:
The spoken word and the setting sun:
Won't you tell me what you're thinking of?
What course of actions has just begun?
The night falls on us from far above.Our words are swollen by the warp of time;
They conceive they've got to change the world.
Why is it that they plague our mind?
What is beauty but explosions unfurled?A perfect order is within our sphere;
A brand new day is said and done.
What is it that turns the gear?
We were ever changing and having fun.Part II:
Just what the hey is going on?
I ask myself that every single day.
Where have all our good times gone?
I only long to see the sun's last ray.A conversation thats like the changing season;
Listen lightly to the things they think.
Tell me now, where is the reason?
We've spun around like a roller rink....
BELIEF & TECHNIQUE FOR MODERN PROSE
Jack Kerouac
--------------------------------------------------
1. Scribbled secret notebooks, and wild typewritten pages, for yr own joy
2. Submissive to everything, open, listening
3. Try never get drunk outside yr own house
4. Be in love with yr life
5. Something that you feel will find its own form
6. Be crazy dumbsaint of the mind
7. Blow as deep as you want to blow
8. Write what you want bottomless from bottom of the mind
9. The unspeakable visions of the individual
10. No time for poetry but exactly what is
11. Visionary tics shivering in the chest
12. In tranced fixation dreaming upon object before you
13. Remove literary, grammatical and syntactical inhibition
14. Like Proust be an old teahead of time
15. Telling the true story of the world in interior monolog
16. The jewel center of interest is the eye within the eye
17. Write in recollection and amazement for yourself
18. Work from pithy middle eye out, swimming in language sea
19. Accept loss forever
20. Believe in the holy contour of life
21. Struggle to sketch the flow that already exists intact in mind
22. Dont think of words when you stop but to see picture better
23. Keep track of every day the date emblazoned in yr morning
24. No fear or shame in the dignity of yr experience, language & knowledge
25. Write for the world to read and see yr exact pictures of it
26. Bookmovie is the movie in words, the visual American form
27. In praise of Character in the Bleak inhuman Loneliness
28. Composing wild, undisciplined, pure, coming in from under, crazier the better
29. You're a Genius all the time
30. Writer-Director of Earthly movies Sponsored & Angeled in Heaven
--------------------------------------------------...
we all get dizzy in a sea of infinite waste
spinning in circles with our eyes to the sky
blurry eyed vision in the mind's eye space
thinking in flashes of the days gone bye
we all get crazy in the summer that blinds us
running for cover on a road leading down
who is on and who is off this metaphorical bus
throwing little punches while we slowly drown
my bs and your bs are running together
we cannot comprehend the colors new
they scream and shout, how is the weather
the parking lot kids should seem so blue
i never want to wake from a dream long forgotten
outside are trees and birds and what do they mean
our thoughts are corrupt and yours are rotten
we bust through your living room:
and disrupt the whole scene
i am you is me or us,
but all together we melt away
a sea of infinite waste is dragging us along
do you think less of me
for the meaningless things i say
everything i say and do is wrong?
nothing exists and neither do we
a sea of infinite waste is all we see...
(Lack of Meaning)
So.
Here we go.
Easy does it.
Hold on tight for just a bit.
Going crazy and mad and bats and things.
We won't quit now until the song is what she brings.
No sleep and going strong and ride the storm out like snake.
Throwing up and jumping down into nothing like this surreal cold lake.
Sickened by the smell of this happy snappy go out and spin kind of super nature allegory.
Picked up and dropped down by the ugly sort of beauty which cannot be identified by any sort of nomenclature.
Unidentified but still befitting of a cordial madness upon which the laurels of the hardy type shrub cannot but reach up and destroy you by the bay.
So the iron chef would have me say upon any other day but today, today is when you cannot win but will instead get wrapped down and tied up or so I say.
And then my friend you will suspend all that crazy deluded quasi-unrealistic but meta-true or was it a clue and am I for real or not and can you decide what it really was.
Turning over and around and under beside the glowing flowing bush of true beginnings until it all ends and we are left with this psychosomatic erratic behavior of just because.
All it means is not what it seems until it begins to become undone and all distended from the place of disilliusion confusion bizzarre unwinded blinded out of sight distraught type fright.
Belittling and unsettling explosion implosion decision removed uninterested poignant nightmare of mad-thoughts going sideways and that ways and striking deep into the increasing darkness of night.
Meaningless and ever moreso vague upon the twisted glimpses of opiate drawn masses of those who metaphorically wear no clothes and suppose that all of this is not what it might seem.
Searching deeper and unaware of the uncompetent stare of the flashes of ignorances and horrible brilliance of a night wasteland brought on by the all encompasing high velocity gleam.
This is the end of the thread.
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Dr. Bob is Robert Hsiung, MD,
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