Posts Tagged "D. H. Lawrence"

My Wobbly Bicycle, 68

Posted by on Apr 9, 2014 in Archive | 11 comments

My Wobbly Bicycle, 68

“Not I, not I, but the wind that blows through me.” This is D. H. Lawrence. In this country, where we irrationally hold to the belief that we’re egalitarian, we don’t like very much the definition of talent as a gift. We like to say anyone can muscle their way into accomplishing anything if only she tries hard enough. Which, it seems to me, affects our attitude toward the arts themselves. What is a “gift”? I just got hold of Lewis Hyde’s The Gift: Creativity and the Artist in the Modern World, written in the 70s and newly reissued. It’s a gift. A deeply insightful look at...

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My Wobbly Bicycle, 12

Posted by on Feb 20, 2013 in Archive | 15 comments

My Wobbly Bicycle, 12

Third chemo yesterday. My oncologist was a bit late for our appointment  (There’s always a pre-chemo exam). He’d been at the hospital and was obviously frustrated after talking with a patient. He didn’t give particulars, but said something like this: heart disease is the #1 killer, cancer is #2. Even though heart disease has as many variables and is as much a mystery, somehow people assume the doctor is working in their best interest with heart disease, that a stent, certain medications, are appropriate. Yet with cancer, everyone has a different tangent, an anecdotal cure, they think...

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My Wobbly Bicycle, 3

Posted by on Dec 19, 2012 in Archive | 25 comments

My Wobbly Bicycle, 3

What a difference one phone call makes! My CAT scan is normal. No additional tumors that the surgery missed. Still chemo ahead of me. But. I’ve been anxious. And gloomy. With each previous test, I’d been a bit nonchalant, since I felt fine. I’ve always been so healthy, yet each time the results have been worse than I imagined. Keats’ sonnet has played in my head: “When I have fears that I may cease to be/ before my pen has gleaned my teeming brain. . . .” I especially know his mood at the end of the poem: “then on the shore / Of the wide world I stand alone, and think, / Till...

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Writing Horrible Things, Part III

Posted by on Apr 25, 2012 in Archive | 3 comments

Writing Horrible Things, Part III

Hang on. This is a long one, the final of three posts about my book, The Devil’s Child.  Or, it’s really about writing about horrible, terrible, evil things, things so awful that there’s no way to write about them, but if we turn away, split away from even part of what’s true, we’re lost. I’ve thought about this a lot. If you are the character Barbara in these poems, who’s split away into multiple personalities to save herself—and then when you actually do split away by having a child,  you have to inoculate the child. A terrifying moment for me is when Barbara’s...

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