![]() ![]() I have come to the realization that, once again, like the act of writing (post-magnanimous stroke, life threatening bout with Viral Spinal Meningitis and string of neurosurgeries) The strange thing that I realized is that, post-injury, much of my consciousness is comprised of weird mosaics of experiences, conversations, receptions of monologues and monological,internal musings that, I figure, must have come from somewhere or someone else.Įven as an undergraduate student, at several different schools, I know that I helped my dorm mates decipher poems that the meanings of, what, to me, seemed overtly obvious. Obviously, the reason for me to slap the method together was to be re-enabled to rejoin the poetic world, fully: as a writer and reader of poetry and not just as an admirer. ![]() There is no one else who could have let me know about it therefore, it had to have been me who concocted it, alone only, I forgot about the fact that I produced it, even though it still remained intact. What’s even more amazing is the fact that, nearly, if not, over twenty years after I first thought I was taught it, I was let know by the person whom I thought communicated it to me that he or she had never seen nor heard of it before… ![]() If I do have another stroke, it will almost definitely kill me and, even if it doesn’t, I figure I won’t be able see to record many thoughts I have after its damage has been dealt.Īnyway, it’s kind of amazing that I actually was able to come up with this Poetic Scansion method, at all. This is a reading strategy I somehow came up with, following my last stroke by last, I mean my final stroke I had before my A.V.M. ![]()
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