What got you writing online?

[billy]

I'm fucked if I know. I had had verious handsome and sturdy computers, but the nearest thing to reacting with other people was a site devoted to Anglo-Saxon matters, where enthusiasts and academics would get into great rages ove some obscure point, and even greater ones, when someone might mention some French thinker--red rag to a North American bull, professor or no. I was at that time a member of a thing where we got to-gether in a pub, and talked about Anglo-Saxon stuff. Years later, I got a laptop, and found a site where everyone talked about Dawkins--it was devoted to secular stuff, which the people took to be equivalent to atheism. I took the name Abu Nidal, supposing that no-one would recall the nasty terrorist--and I was wrong! Abu Nuwas seemed better, but I gave not the slightest thought to his sexual inclinations. I would throw in some God stuff, to see what effect it might have, but really, I was on completely the wrong track.

The site was organised in such a way that little boxes appeared in which you could see people. There was also some facility where people could choose to go into a private room. I then noticed that 'many a true word said in jest' always involved pressure on some young woman to get her kit off. Evidently it happened, but sadly, it must have been in some time-zone when i was sleeping; or maybe when it was just the old pals and no interloper. So I gave that up.

I wrote poetry, and when somehow I came across AP, it seemed natural to put it on there, as an artist would exhibit their paintings, no suggestion of going back and adding a bit of burnt umber because someone wandered into the gallery and suggested it. Then Leanne turned up (with IM "What's the go here?" going on to suggest that the 'go' might be, as it was/is everyone saying everything was awesome). With her fancy ideas about work-shopping and all, my happy, contented,even vain, world gradually crumbled, and now I barely know which end of the poetic quill to use, and am far too terrified to try at all. I did all that I could, even as far as writing a poem entitled ''I agree with Leanne'' and repeating this sentiment whenever she made a comment. To no purpose. But of course I have learnt much-- just no longer apply the lessons.

Things may change. Whilst indulging my grand-daughters this week, on the eating and clothing front (they eased their collective conscience by getting me to buy something for me--some funny shorts made to keep water off), and I myself decided I would go out on a limb--and buy a black beret! Yes! Think of me as Montgomery on top of a tank, chasing Rommel out of Afrika; or as Picasso, perhaps even an old geezer playing 'petanque' in la belle France. Good, but for me, it is the poet's crown. I explained this in my favorite cafe, saying I would wear it to the Poetry Society in C London, to be told that a poetry society is too be set up by some woman right there, in the good old BlueBelle, come September! So--I think I must write something before then. Probably on uncritical AP...... Wake up!

Things may change. Whilst indulging my grand-daughters this week, on the eating and clothing front (they eased their collective conscience by getting me to buy something for me--some funny shorts made to keep water off),

why does the phrase incontinence pants come to mind


leanne's a good teacher, it's why we snapped her up, the poetry she does is a bonus.

as for writinng anywhere else but here, OMG, we'll restrict beret wearing if you do that.