ON MY BOOKSHELF

Arrrrrggghh!  I see I’ve already posted this. Don’t know what to do about it but try harder next time to  pay attention to what I’m doing…horrified-emoticon

 

 

On my bookshelf you can see

my inner self revealed to thee.

Maybe Hen’s Teeth and Horse’s  Toes

won’t go far to show you me,

but Frames of Mind should give a hint

of where my time is largely spent.

Crack in the Cosmic Egg is from

an elderly college alum

who still values Games People Play

and Alan Watts any old day.a

User Illusion blew my mind

also Denial of Death in its kind,

and I include for brilliance

the author of Concilience.

Sheldon Kopp told me what to do

if Buddha I should run into,

while The Dream and the Underworld 

gave me frights, sanity a whirl.

And here’s an old one we all knew

none other than Miss Nancy Drew.

So now you know me stem to stern.

What can I expect from you in turn?

About Nan Mykel

I used to think I would be a child prodigy, but then I got old. Formerly I had fantasies of rubbing elbows with cultural and academic leaders but that did not come to pass because I did not become a cultural or academic leader or any other kind of leader, for that matter. I am not even an "Alpha Dog," a term learned from a friend who had to become "Alpha Dog" in order to influence her own pet. (When gazes lock, she never looks away.) For years I expected to become a published author, but in passing I could not avoid the fact that I had little to contribute to the world's bulging dumpsters. I'm embarrassed to report that I also considered my primary process artistic productions powerful, rather than mildly neurotic. Which is not to say that I disrespect myself, only that I am beginning to doubt my potential for making a mark on the world. If I focus on strict self discipline I may be able to keep my garbage removed on a weekly basis, to keep the kitty box changed, the clothes cleaned, the dog watered, fed and walked, but that just catches me up to the starting mark again. When writing I physically grapple with words, wrestling them from their indifference into attempted chunks of awareness. I sit heavily on my chair; I breathe in artificially cooled air; my ear drums note the tap tap of the keyboard and the steady uninterrupted sound of the air conditioner, What is that sound? The roar of the ocean from 30 yards away...Inside, my thoughts are are balls in an electronic game machine, bouncing hither and yon from lever to lever. I am a little grim and intent until I recall a dream related by a black man in the prison where I once worked. He said that when he was a small boy, back home, he dreamed he was standing on his front porch pissing, and that he suddenly found himself pissing stars...
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2 Responses to ON MY BOOKSHELF

  1. frankhubeny says:

    I remember the book, “Crack in the Cosmic Egg”, as an undergraduate long ago. I think I even tried to read some of it, but I was young and I lost the book over the years. We share at least one book in common.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Nan Mykel says:

      This is not my original copy, but I felt a yearning for it when I came across it, second hand recently. I think of books I like as good friends. And I quote from them at times, so I tend to hang onto them. Some people’s “transitional objects” were blankets. I think mine were books, although my daughter now has Heidi, Wizard of Oz, Chatterbox, Alice in Wonderland and Freddy the [pig] Detective–which I think was only a library book.Thanks for sharing that part of you.

      Liked by 1 person

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