new old kid on the blog,
with an occasional
old or new poem written off
the old writer's block
The thing about this extremely exacting, demanding self-discipline of yours, Vassilis -- and your ability to make something so very difficult as producing a poem every day appear, if not easy, then almost casual, like breathing -- is that, upon close attendance, it comes to seem less, not more, routine.And each day, through thick and thin, through cold and through storm, through fever and through dream, returning to the scene, this reader is more and more impressed, and more and more inclined to believe there is, after all, some substance to be found, and learned from, in the old adage: practice makes perfect.I am never tempted to throw any of these gifts of yours away.
Thanks, Tom, for these words given so graciously; I wish I could agree with you but when I stand back and take a good, long look at myself, I have to conclude that appearances (at least as manifested in what I write) are deceiving--this can't be me. Is it mere coincidence that the title of my ongoing, seemingly endless ms consisting of poems written over the past thirty-some years is The Intricate Evasions of As? Whatever the case may be, thanks again for keeping my gifts safe.
Too bad that I am not gifted with the talent to write poems. What a heatlhy life I would have. But reading your peoms daily surely also helps.
You are certainly gifted enough in many other ways, Peter; one of these is possessing a strong, undaunted spirit which has enabled you to do so many things in the face of innumerable difficulties. Iconsider myself fortunate to have you as a friend.