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APW Poet Blog
August, 2002
S. Hunter-Wilson
S Hunter Wilson is the Founder and Editor of Scope Journal and Scope Ezboard. She is widely known on the Internet through her non-de-plume Blaque Velvet. She lives in Pittsburgh, PA.
She has an Associates Degree in Business. Her recent accomplishments include five nominations for the Interboard Poetry Contest (IBPC), a writing scholarship to ‘Writing On the River Institute’, publication in Skyline Magazine (June print edition), and also in their July print edition.
She is a poet, mother, Karaoke singer, wife, and friend of many. She is the fourth poet to emerge from her family. S. Wilson say’s she has a similar writing style to her mother, (*A crowd of Darwinists give an applause*). She likes Oldies But Goodies, whether it be antiques or music.
Her most treasured possession is an old antique boat that plays music.
Her favorite poets are E.E Cummings, Langston Hughes, Robert Frost, Mya Angelou, and Rod McKuen. She can be seen eating butter pecan ice cream on a hot summer day while sitting Indian style in an open field of grass, writing poetry on her porch while it’s raining, or cooling off under the water hose with her daughter in her arms.
Her poems may be found here:
Please contact Ms. Hunter-Wilson with your thoughts.
August 3, 2002
I wake up in the morning and poetry is on my mind. I called my friend today, as soon as I woke up, to discuss finding a work shop to go to. The conversation led to the subject of her loosing a poem in an ezboard post. I felt bad for her because I know how she feels. It seems like writers loose their work, often on computers. There’s nothing more upsetting to me than loosing a poem, especially when it was one of those poems that lifted my writers block.
I once wrote a two page poem and lost it as quick as it came. My computer froze and I had to shut down. I can’t help but to wonder, if it was the greatest poem I ever wrote. The worse part about loosing a poem, is how you can remember some of the lines you wrote but not where they were in the poem.
I guess what makes you a smart writer, is when you take the time to make a back up of your work, while your work is in progress.
S. Hunter-Wilson <ladypose@netzero.net>
Pittsburgh, PA USA – Sat Aug 3 07:36:03 2002
August 4, 2002
It seems like artists always attract other artists. I believe that artists send out signals to each other. I don’t know how we do it but some way or another we end up meeting. I keep thinking about what happened yesterday. I was on my way to my sisters house and didn’t have any idea when the bus was due to come. I stood at the bus stop for more than an hour and it never came. I had decided that I would not got to the poetry work shop but dancing. As I started to walk back home, a young gentlemen came over to me and said I look like I can sing. He began to tell me how he writes poetry and began reciting some poetry. He asked me to recite some and I couldn’t. As many poems as I have written, I couldn’t remember any from the top of my head. I can remember the phone numbers of everyone I know, but I can’t remember a single line from one of my poems. He later asked me to record some of my poetry and sing in his studio. I accepted his offer and told him I would bring my friend. I just can’t wait to record some of my poems because I wonder what they will sound like on a C.D. I know we’re going to have a lot of fun.
S. Hunter-Wilson <sharmeka76@hotmail.com>
Pittsburgh, PA USA – Sun Aug 4 13:04:44 2002
August 5, 2002
Every other night, I curl up in bed with a good book of poetry.
Last night I was reading poetry from the book, “The Best American Poetry 1990.” The moment I opened it, “Scouting” by Philip Levine jumped out at me. I was holding my breath while reading it. Right now, I’m recalling the first stanza in the poem, because it’s the one that pulled me in and didn’t let me out until the end came. I can almost hear the poet reading it out loud.
“I’m the man that gets off the bus
at the bare junction of nothing
with nothing, and then heads back
to where we’ve been as though
the future were stashed somewhere
in that tangles of events we call,
“Where I come from.”
For some strange reason, It sounds like he is speaking directly to some one. Later in the poem, he writes about a woman he met. The image he paints of her is vivid and real. Time seems to be an important thing in this poem and almost the back bone of it too. I read it twice before letting the book slip from my hands. I was totally inspired to write something similar but I was too tired to sort through the ideas or reach for my journal. This morning when I awoke and read again, I realized that I had read this poem a month ago to my friend and loved it. I think a poem can be like a person you haven’t seen in a long time, although you can’t remember the content of the poem, you can remember how it made you feel and so you never forget the poem. I seriously think, that I will always know poetry and poetry will always know me.
S. Hunter-Wilson <ladypose@netzero.net>
Pittsburgh, PA USA – Mon Aug 5 15:05:01 2002
August 6, 2002
Today is my birthday and I don’t want to do anything but write. I have a poem in my head that wants to come out but won’t. Everybody I know is calling me and wishing me happy birthday. So far, I have only gotten out of bed to answer the phone. My friend is trying very hard to talk me into going to this poetry work shop called, “The Shadow Lounge” but that means I will have to look through all my poems and choose some to read. I don’t know how I’m going to attend my birthday party tonight and go to the poetry reading. I’m too tired to go any where but I feel I have to do something today. I just want to eat my heart out and read poetry until my eyes hurt. I very rarely get time to relax and time to think. Tonight, I‘m putting up my feet and answering the telephone, only when I feel like it. I know that as soon as I begin my new poem, the phone is going to ring and some one is going to ask me to go out. I hate to admit this but I know I’m going to say yes, even though I made a promise not to go any where. Sometimes, it seems like the only promises that I can keep, is the promises I make to other people.
S. Hunter-Wilson <ladypose@netzero.net>
Homestead, PA USA – Tue Aug 6 15:41:05 2002
August 7, 2002
Today my friend read me two of her poems, she wrote last night. I was watching the movie, “Lord Of The Rings” when she was inspired to write. Today, I hope to write something and so I have decided to give the internet a break. The internet can really get on my nerves at times. I get tired of watching pages load and clicking into sites. It’s hard to believe, that once I was totally amazed by the internet. I have my own ezboard and the traffic is so high. Sometimes I can’t get in and other times I can. One of my friends sent me a happy birthday wish, by way of an E-mail. I smiled the moment I opened the E-mail because he was the only person on the internet that I know, that remembered. We talk all the time in MSN and quote the works of writers we love. Our conversations often lead to the subject of poetry. We have a lot in common when it comes to writing. He’s probably reading my entry now. He reads my daily entries almost every day. The last time we spoke, we talked about my past entry that discussed the poem “Scouting.” I didn’t even know he liked the poetry of Philip Levine or knew who he was. Sometimes I think I have spent half of my life in the dark, when it comes to knowing the works of writers that the world love and hate.
S. Hunter-Wilson <ladypose@netzero.net>
Homestead, PA USA – Wed Aug 7 17:43:29 2002
August 8, 2002
Lets go Steelers! I’m a Steelers fan so kick me already. It’s foot ball season time and I may as well give up my seat on my couch because a crowd of foot ball fans are going to dominate it. To be honest, I’m not really in the mood for foot ball but I’m going to hear cheering until the game goes off. I just found out that my feature essay writer, of the first issue of my online publishing journal “Scope” has passed away. I’m too sad to enjoy the game, so why bother watching it. My husband thinks I’m only a fan when the Steelers win but I’m a fan when they play well too. I don’t watch much television but every time I go to watch it, there’s a game on. I stand by and watch grown men curse at animated objects, on my television, like they can hear them. My husband bought some rubber footballs to throw at the television, when the rough ere give a bad call. What’s really funny is how my husband doesn’t get into poetry but I wrote a poem about The Steelers and he exploded because I said, “Let’s go Steelers” instead of “Here we go Steelers.” I understand that The Steelers are from my home town (Pittsburgh) and that it’s apart of their song but what difference does it make. Steeler fans don’t give any slack when it comes to supporting the team and being an honest fan. As soon as the game comes on, I’m going to my bed room. I don’t have to worry about putting a do not disturb sign on my door because they will be too busy cheering. I will be either watching a chick flick or doing some exercises out of the book “The Practice Of Poetry” edited by Robin Behn and Chase Twichell. Even though I want to write something new, I know I will be spending my time, trying to calm down a bunch of out of control Steeler fans.
S. Hunter-Wilson <ladypose@netzero.net>
Pittsburgh, PA USA – Thu Aug 8 15:25:29 2002
August 9, 2002
Something happened to me on the internet today, that really made me see how it can hurt the minds of our children. I was looking for some art for my next issue of Scope Journal and stumbled upon a site that said it had it. As I clicked in, the first thing I saw was pictures of aborted babies. It really made me sick to my stomach and mad me angry, that someone would post something like that, and not even bother to protect it from young children. I was so angry and outraged by it. I wrote them a two page letter expressing my concerns. They had a area that said that they welcome letters from people who disagree. I look forward to their response because what excuse can they give. They shouldn’t say they have pictures of angels and yet they really have horrible pictures of dead babies. They should not have that open for young people to come in and see such horrible things. It’s very upsetting to some one like me, who is loving and caring to come across something like that. After that, I couldn’t even write anything. I never knew the internet had that little respect for the young or concern. I hope I never stumble upon a site like that again. Other than being tricked to go into a site of that nature, I still haven’t gotten around to writing or completely formatting my manuscript to send to an agent, but I will. I will most likely write a poem that speaks out, about being against that site. I wish I could put that in stone, but I have too much on my plate right now.
S. Hunter-Wilson <scopez@hotmail.com>
Pittsburgh, PA USA – Fri Aug 9 16:23:49 2002
August 10, 2002
This entry is rather late because I have been sick all day. I could barely get out of bed. I started feeling sick days ago and then suddenly I woke up this morning and could barely move, so I stayed in bed. It is funny how every thing stops when you get sick. Your house is a mess, you look like a mess and everything around you seems to be waiting for you to get up. I didn’t get out of bed this morning until half way into the day. A friend of mine stopped over and asked me to go shopping with her. My husband took the baby because he knew I wasn’t feeling well. It is hard getting sick in the summer because it is hard to get better in the heat. A friend of mines stopped over and told me he would bring me some soup. My daughter spent the day playing with his son. I wish I could say more happened today, but I spent most of my day sleeping up until now I was up late last night talking to another publisher of another journal. I woke up this morning and felt awful. I’m real tired and I can’t fall asleep because my nose is stuffed. I hope I feel better tomorrow, if isn’t tomorrow already and I hope I get some writing done. I have this head ache that won’t go away. Everything around me seems really loud and then when I went to get on my computer a hour ago, I kept getting booted off. I’m just going to take it easy for the next few days and focus on getting better.
S. Hunter-Wilson <ladypose@netzero.net>
Pittsburgh, PA USA – Sun Aug 11 00:42:26 2002
August 11, 2002
Recently, the subject of critique have been apart of every conversation, that I have had with my friends. Several of my friends who are writers came to me about critiquing. My one friend takes time to critique the work of one of his friends. I would dedicate my time to critiquing other peoples poetry as well as writing poetry but I discovered that most people get easily offended by critique. I do critique my friends work when they ask. I can’t begin to tell you the fights that I have witnessed about critique. Once, a veteran critiquer told me that I shouldn’t post my work for critique on the ezboard because most of the critiquers on the ezboards are critique happy. I decided to have only two people critique my work. I believe in critique, however, I don’t believe in butchering a poem. For some reason it seems like a lot of writers think because they write than can critique. It took me six months but I finally found some good critiquers to critique my work and I can’t begin to tell you how far my work has come. I believe that critique can hurt your work and better your work, and that you just have to know when you have received a good critique. I have been told that it’s offensive to critique a critiquers critique. I disagree with that because I feel that if my poetry is open for critique that your critique should be open for critique, but critiquing someone’s critique can also make you look like you can’t take critique, and I can. I know it might sound confusing but I’m making a lot of sense. I love the critique I receive from my critiquers. I’m happy that I got some talented writers, who are willing to look at my writes and encourage them.
S. Hunter-Wilson <scopeez@hotmail.com>
Pittsburgh, PA USA – Sun Aug 11 19:27:19 2002
August 12, 2002
Cemeteries are the most peaceful places. I took a walk in a cemetery where I live. It was nice and sunny there. There were two plants knocked over in front of a tombstone so I picked them up and put them back where they were suppose to be. This car drove by and these people looked at me like I was doing something wrong. I think I took one of the longest walks I ever took through out the whole cemetery. There was the most biggest and eloquent tomb stone I ever saw. I don’t care if there isn’t any body there I know, I just like being there. It frightens some people to go their because they know one day they are going to be in a grave of their own, but I’m not scared. It’s so quiet in a cemetery, you can hear your self think and the air is cool. It seems like no matter how hot it is outside, the air is cool in a cemetery. One day I saw on the news, that there’s a pet cemetery where I live. I’m thinking of reserving a tombstone for my cat. I have a beautiful cat. My cat’s name is “Hobby”. Hobby has black fluffy fur and I adore him. He knows when I’m sick, tired and lonely. I hadn’t realized how old he was getting until a friend brought it to my attention yesterday. Now that the next issue of my online publishing journal is done, I can get back to doing some of the other things I like to do, spend quality time with husband,daughter, visit my family, do some traveling and writing.
S. Hunter-Wilson <scopeez@hotmail.com>
Pittsburgh, PA USA – Mon Aug 12 19:23:08 2002
August 13, 2002
Yesterday someone hacked into my e-mail. They actually found a way to scan every thing I ever sent to people. What was really strange is how they were able to e-mail me, under someone else’s e-mail address. It really makes me mad when some one doesn’t respect my privacy. Then the same person that hacked into my e-mail also kept sending me virus’s but fortunately I have Norton Virus Scan and I quarantined the virus’s, before they got to infect my computer. I went through a similar thing with AOL. Some guy hacked into my AOL account and was actually logging on as me. I decided to annoy him in instant messenger for hacking into my AOL and he got so tired of me, he blocked me. It was the funniest thing because he had the nerve to block me as if I was the bad guy. I was only trying to pay him back for what he did. I saw on a program called, “Unsolved Mysteries” that they have a team of computer experts who go in chat rooms and pretend like they are young children. They disguise themselves to catch adults, who try to meet up with young children off the internet and molest them. I think that was a good idea. The internet has many back doors and I guess there are a lot of people who like to walk through them.
S. Hunter-Wilson <scopeez@hotmail.com>
Pittsburgh, PA USA – Tue Aug 13 19:26:58 2002
August 14, 2002
I finally caught up to my internet friend. I hadn’t heard from my friend in a very long time. I was just about to lock down my yahoo mail and I saw his e-mail. I was so excited to here from him. He came to visit me some years back, it was his first time in America. I started telling him about my accomplishments and he was amazed because the last time we spoke, I was just finding places to send my poetry. We started talking about Maya Angelou. We talked about her poetry and her book “I Know Why The Cage Bird Sing.” I can’t begin to tell you how good it felt to hear his voice again. We met in Alamak chat and been friends ever since. He is Swedish and says he is going to teach me how to speak Swedish. That’s about all that happened today accept for the fact that I wrote a new poem. It felt so good to write again. I haven’t written anything in weeks. I posted my poem on the ezboards and it got good replies, so I guess I haven’t lost my touch. Tomorrow I’m going to read some poetry by Rod Mckuen and see what else I can come up with, sweet dreams Albany.
S. Hunter-Wilson <ladypose@netzero.net>
Pittsburgh, PA USA – Wed Aug 14 21:26:30 2002
August 15, 2002
I didn’t get on the internet until late in the evening. As soon as I got on, I found this really cool site, it gives you poetry lessons. One of the lessons were really good. It gave you a sample of poetry by a famous author but the poem had empty spaces, that you had to fill in with your own words. I got so inspired from the lesson. I kept running back to my computer, to add more lines to my new poem. I think it’s going to be a poem that I will put in my book. I plan to spend more time at this site that I found. After that, my friend did a search for me on eBay, to price some of my fathers baseball cards, that he left me to watch over. I can remember watching my father sort through the cards. He would be sitting on the floor, watching the show, “Zena” while drinking orange juice and organizing them. He was a Michael Jordan fan to the core. He would put his cards in plastic, then in boxes and lock them in a safe beside his bed. It has been a while, since I was able to touch them but I feel like he is still here when I do. I don’t think I will sale any, even if I need to. I’m just curious as to what they are worth or maybe because I want a reason to look at them. It seems like just yesterday my father said to me, “Take care of my cards and don‘t forget to feed my fish.” Those are the things he loved the most and his family. The cards are worth more than I can say because they have his essence. I know that if he was still alive, he would be proud of me and happy his cards are still in good condition. I miss him very much.
S. Hunter-Wilson <ladypose@netzero.net>
Pittsburgh, PA USA – Thu Aug 15 18:30:04 2002
August 16, 2002
I spent the afternoon with my best friend. She came over and we watched a movie. She is a script writer and works for a popular news channel where I live. We have been friends for over 15 years. She told me that she is one hundred and fifty pages into her script. I wish I had the discipline to get that far with my stories. After she left, I started working on this poem that drove me crazy. I called my grandmother to talk about visiting her tomorrow and I found out that my aunt got bit by a wood spider. A wood spider is a poisonous spider. She told me that she sat on it in bed and it bit her. She is very ill and still needs more surgery. I go on camping trips twice a year and I’m always afraid that a spider, is going to crawl into my tent and bite me. This may sound strange, but I check my bed every night before I climb into it. I have always been fascinated with wild life. I think I have more pictures of wild life, than I have of myself and friends. I just started writing nature and wild life poems this year. My poem “Where The Woods Open” published by Skyline Magazine in their June print edition, was actually written based on a picture I took, of the woods surrounding an area called, “Duck Hollow,” that’s very close to my home town. Two years ago it rained and the river flooded it. I was on my honey moon at the time and got to take some great pictures of it. I don’t get out that often anymore, but when I do I enjoy it. There’s nothing like watching the sunset, smelling flowers and feeling grass between your toes. I hope that we still go camping for Labor Day weekend. I plan to take some more pictures.
S. Hunter-Wilson <founder@scopejournal.com>
pittsburgh, PA USA – Fri Aug 16 19:27:21 2002
August 17, 2002
Today, nothing much happened. My best friend came over. We had dinner and listened to some old music, we use to love when were children. We started talking about writing scripts. She was telling me how hard it is keep the format. I don’t think I can every write a script to a movie. I have tried before and it tends to be a short story instead. I didn’t spend much time on the internet today. I was so busy cleaning my house and writing my new poem.I spent most of the time eating blue berry muffins. My grandmother always send us cakes, pies and muffins. Every since my daughter was born, she has been sending me sweets. I said I would stop eating so many sweets but I keep going back on my word. I remember when I was in News Hampshire on my writing scholarship, every morning I had a cup of Earl Gray Tea and muffins with butter. I would sit on the patio, with my journal and write away. It was so quiet there. They had the biggest Weeping Willow Trees I had ever seen. You could barely see the sky and when it got dark, you better be in the house or you would have gotten lost. I had the best time of my life.
S. Hunter-Wilson <scopeez@hotmail.com>
Homestead, PA USA – Sat Aug 17 21:18:55 2002
August 18th, 2002
I read a poem at my board today, that did something to my mind. I got so inspired to write. I wrote two religious poems. I’ve never been able to write religious poems but today I could not stop. I called my mother, my sisters and friends just to read them to them. I had so much to say, I could barely stop my fingers from typing. After I wrote my poems, I started working on a cover letter to send to a publisher of a magazine, I found in google. I’m submitting some of my poems to this journal through e-mail. Their issues are available in print. I like to get published in print because some of my family members don’t have the internet. There’s nothing like seeing a hard copy of book and seeing your work inside. You can’t help but to call every body and tell them good news. It really makes me angry, when I hear that some artists have been scammed by publishers. It can really hurt to get published by a place, you put your trust in and later find out that they are crooks. I hear a lot of rumors about The National Library Of Poetry. I know that they almost got over on me and have been told that they scammed an artist out of one thousand dollars. I never submit to a place, that I haven’t done research on. I really look forward to submitting my work to this publisher of a magazine I found in google, I can use some good news.
S. Hunter-Wilson <scopeez@hotmail.com>
Pittsburgh, PA USA – Sun Aug 18 19:57:17 2002
August 19, 2002
I’m feeling very tired and still feeling sick. It feels like I have no time for anything. I was raised that family come first so when people try to tell me, that my child can do without more of my time and other things, it sounds more like they don’t respect my family. It often seems like the people around me, think that I don’t have a life. I’m a mother, wife, owner of a journal, ezboard, poet log of Albany poetry, as well as a dedicated writer, and I think that account for having a life. I’m getting real sick of most of my friends to be honest. Even though I only have about three friends of the internet, two of them are showing me, that they are really not my friends, by there poor attitudes and lack of concern for my needs to also be dedicated to my family and responsibilities. I sit and listen to how busy they are and when I say that I’m busy, they try to tell me that I’m not or imply that. These are people who are never happy for anything good that happens to me and has back stabbed me several times. All they can think about is themselves, will criticize everything but can not take criticism. This is all that has been on my mind today. I have a doctors appointments for my daughter, a therapist I see about my swollen hand condition that prevents me from writing or using my hands at time, a birthday party to go to, vacations trips planned next month, a manuscript that I need to finish soon, a news letter that I have to craft before the 20th of next month, I have to visit my fathers grave site the first week of September, shop for my brothers birthday before the first week of September, register for college this week, and find time to spend with my family. When I think of all the chaos that has been around me ever since I got back in touch with some of my old friends when I was young, I wish that I never gave them my telephone number. I miss living where I use to live. It was so quiet because everybody who I didn’t want to be bothered with, for certain reason s ,could not contact me. I have decided that I will not be in close contact anymore with certain people, who continue to treat me wrong. I have always been a very forgiving person but the time comes when you just have to say, “enough is enough” and stick to it.
S. Hunter-Wilson <scopeez@hotmail.com>
Pittsburgh, PA USA – Mon Aug 19 17:08:52 2002
August 20, 2002
I decided that I’m not going to go and sing at the studio. I still have the producers number but I just don’t have time. My best friend invited me to her party on Saturday. I told her I would help her cook. My best friend was one of the first people to read my poetry. Sometimes I wish I never shared my poetry with anyone. It is hard to look at it the same way I use to, before I let anyone on the internet read them. My poetry seem to be so restricted and strangled after it runs through a couple reads. Some of my poems, I have just chosen not to share. I guess you can say I’m scared, that I will loose their essence. Four of my poems that were written from a place so deep and mean the most to me, was loved by readers. What is strange, is that I didn’t think they were all that great, until then. I often here people say. “write what you know” or “write about you life” and I think it’s because those are best writes to read. When I share one of my experimental pieces, I often just get, “well done” or “nice write” but when I write a poem about a child hood memory or deep experience that have left a scar on me, it gets nominated for the IBPC and outstanding reviews. So, I’m trying real hard to write more about my life, all the time. I have no choice, but to dig up a memory and write about it. I just hope that I can handle the emotions, that come along with remembering something sad and I hope that I will be able to savor the sweet taste, of remembering something good.
S. Hunter-Wilson <scopeez@hotmail.com>
Pittsburgh, PA USA – Tue Aug 20 16:12:29 2002
August 22, 2002
I’m learning many new things about the internet. Today I found a very cool virtual chat room, for my ezboard. I was in there only an hour and there were so many people in there. It was so cool. I never knew that virtual chat rooms could be so fun. I have been finding a lot of nice stuff for my ezboard. I had a pretty good day today. It is raining outside and I like it when it rains, that means I’m going to sleep good tonight. I just came in from outside. I was sitting on the porch, watching the rain wet the street. It was so peaceful. I got inspired to write a poem. I will probably be up late tonight, working the kinks out of my new poem. I have been writing a lot of mother poems. I just wrote one the other day called, “Child Comfort.“ It is about a young girl who comes to her mother with her broken heart and wishes to be a child again, when her parents had all the answers. I already have enough father poems for a collection and now I almost have a enough mother poems for a collection. I wonder what my next one will be themed on. I decided that I would not be posting on any ezboards accept my own and the other one that I moderate at. I don’t have much time anymore or the energy. I will be registering for school very soon and so I have to watch what I dedicate myself to. I just can’t wait to go back to school and get my bachelors in criminal justice. That’s when I really get to use my brain.
S. Hunter-Wilson <scopeez@hotmail.com>
Pittsburgh, PA USA – Thu Aug 22 19:21:18 2002
August 23, 2002
I spent have of the day in a virtual chat room. I never been in a virtual chat room before. I decided to hold my board activities in a private room, created by me at this virtual chat place. Besides hanging out in the chat room, I spent most of the day sitting on the porch watching it rain. I took my daughter outside for a walk in the rain, she loved it. She kept sticking her hand out to catch the rain drops. I remember when I was little, I use to dance in the rain, but now I get sick if I spend too much time in it. I’m suppose to go to this party tomorrow. I don’t know if I want to go. I feel like I want to just sit at home and spend some time with my daughter. She has been learning new words. I spoke to a girl today in instant messenger. She was a very nice person. I have been meeting a lot of new people online and not communicating with old friends who really wasn’t my friends. I guess the old saying is right, “Out with the old and in with the new” It feels good to not have all the drama around me anymore, to have decent people around me who make me smile and feel good.
S. Hunter-Wilson <scopeez@hotmail.com>
Pittsburgh, PA USA – Fri Aug 23 21:30:45 2002
August 24, 2002
I woke up this morning and felt like singing. I can truly say that today, was one of the best days ever. My sister came over with her and so did my husband friend. We all sat around drinking white wine, laughing like we use to. The kids were running about, playing together nicely. I had another one of my visions again. I had a vision of a woman. I get the feeling that she is connected with my sisters boyfriend. Everything went well today. I waited until now to say that because things always go wrong when I say that. I took a long hot shower and went for a long walk with sister before everyone else came. She is always looking up to me for advice. Me and my sister have a special bond. We are able to talk to each other about anything. Sometime we fight as most sisters do, but most of the time we get along. I miss living at home I use to be able to talk to my sister all the time, now our lives are so busy. Well, I got to go, I still have company and the kids are still up. I don’t mind, I like having them around.
S.Hunter-Wilson <scopeez@hotmail.com>
Pittsburgh, PA USA – Sat Aug 24 23:08:52 2002
August 25, 2002
Okay, I know I said I like company, but I woke up this morning to noise. I was barely awoke and all I heard was screaming. Well after everyone left, I went back into the virtual chat site I was telling you about. They have beauty contests. I like them because they seems so real. Only thing I don’t like, is the attitudes of some of the women in the contests. It seems like women have a hard time getting along when they are put in one room together, with the door locked. There were some conflict today with one of my friends but the matter was resolved. I haven’t written anything in a week, but I plan to do some writing hopefully tomorrow. I need some new poetry books for inspiration. I will have to make a trip to the library sometime this week. Other than having my family over, nothing else happened. I got to call my grandmother tomorrow about my muffins and my mother to see how she is doing, she is sick with the flu. There’s nothing else for me to do tonight, so I’m going to bed, goodnight.
S. Hunter-Wilson <scopeez@hotmail.com>
Pittsburgh, PA USA – Sun Aug 25 21:40:36 2002
August 26, 2002
Me and my administrator of my ezboard was trying to choose a date for my online poetry contest and we came to the decision of having it on the 11th of September. I immediately was over whelmed with great sadness because when ever I hear that date, all I can do is think of the lives that were lost that. I can remember that day like it was yesterday. I tried to focus today on the things for my ezboards, but I couldn’t after that, so I logged off and just sat around thinking. I took my daughter on a walk today and to the play ground. Then I got back online and read a poem by a new member of board, it was a cute poem about a rose. It was a very loving poem, that I needed to read, after feeling sad all day about September 11th. I spent so much time sitting around thinking about it, that I hadn’t realized I hadn’t gotten that much done around the house. I plan to do some writing tomorrow, if I can clear my mind. I got to remember to call my mother and see if she is feeling better. I’m going to try to read some poetry by Rod Mckuen and see if I can get inspired. I just hope that I can get some sleep tonight, I haven’t been able to think of anything else ever since, September 11th came back into my mind.
S. Hunter-Wilson <scopeez@hotmail.com>
Pittsburgh, PA USA – Mon Aug 26 20:59:10 2002
August 27, 2002
I was in the mood to read some articles, some good ones about relationships. There is this site that I go to that I like because it has the best articles themed on many different things. Today I read a article about sex. I posted it in my erotic forum at my board. I notice how quickly members went in and read it. I don’t even think the subject of death can compete with the subject of sex. I often get into some really interesting conversations about sex, mostly erotic poetry defined as sensual. I notice that a lot of men write erotic poetry. I remember I use read romantic novels all the time, the ones with the heated sex scenes. I don’t read them any more, they do not interest me, but erotic poetry do. The problem with writing erotic poetry is that it often leads to porn. It can be a challenge to write a really good erotic poem. While at the site with the articles that I like to read, I submitted a entry to their theme “Embarrassing Moments.” I hope they like it, they feature the best. I will be checking my e-mail several times to see if they responded. I’ll keep you posted on what they thought. As for me, well I’m doing good, tired as usual. I still be in the virtual chat room, I’m addicted to their pageants. Tonight I’m laying down reading some poetry. I hope I come across a good poem, I’m desperate to read one thatinspires me.
S. Hunter-Wilson <scopeez@hotmail.com>
Pittsburgh, PA USA – Tue Aug 27 19:12:09 2002
August 28, 2002
I’m almost ready to cry because I know it’s almost time to say goodbye. That is just one of the big things that have been on my mind, the other is registering for school. If I don’t get back in school soon, I’m going to go crazy. Sometime it feel like I’m behind on the times. Every thing I know seems to be outdated. I have all my old school books from business school and there’s nothing to really do with them. What I need to do is study them and brush up on some important things concerning writing. I really need to work on my grammar. I use to be really good at it, but it seems like I lost it by not caring about it. I realize that in order for me to write my novel and have my friend read it chapter by chapter, I’m going to have to make sure it can be read. I started the first chapter yesterday. I know that I really want to do this novel. I have pitched the plot to two of my friends and they think it has potential. The last time I even wrote a story, it ended up getting a bunch of red marks on it from my teachers pen. I remember she put in the corner of the first page, “This has no logic,” that made me so angry and then I felt better when I found out these two girls that I didn’t like got “The blind helping the blind” on their first page. They obviously had copied of each others stories and the stories were bad. I’m laughing just remembering that and that was almost nine years ago. Some things in your life you never forget. I don’t think I’m going to forget you Albany, you have made a big impression me.
S. Hunter-Wilson <ladpose@netzero.net>
Pittsburgh, PA USA – Wed Aug 28 15:48:43 2002
August 29, 2002
This is going to be a rather long entry, but what I have to say is worth it. There has been a lot on my mind. There is a lot I want to say before I say my good bye and I hope this entry will help those who don’t understand why everyone should honor September 11th. What I saw yesterday at this poetry reading I know is a result of that day. Yesterday I went to a poetry reading. I finally made it to this place that have readings called “The Shadow Lounge.“ It felt so good to see people from all different backgrounds come to gather and share their art. I didn’t matter if you were rich, poor, old, young, sick, health or the color of your skin. Their was unity and respect, that was all that mattered. Nothing much happened today except for the fact that my husband came to me earlier to remind that the one year anniversary of September 11th was coming up. When I hear that date, I get goose bumps. I get sad and I can’t think of anything accept what happened on that date. I remember it like yesterday. I was fighting my way through the traffic of downtown Pittsburgh in Pennsylvania. I had my daughter with me. I waited four hours for the bus and it never came, finally I decided to try to call a cab but the cab driver wouldn’t take me take me home. I didn’t know what was going on, accept I knew that the streets were crowded with people rushing about. I finally decided to stroll my daughter to my mothers house that is near downtown. I turned on the television and I started watching something on the T.V. that at first looked like a gozilla movie because of the people jumping from a building. I called my mother and she told me what happened and for me to turn on the news. I looked at the television and realize that I was already watching the news. I was watching something so horrible, so shocking, and so unbelievable. I became scared and overwhelmed with great sadness that I had never felt before. Afterwards, I couldn’t stop crying. When something like this happens it makes us wonder, if this world will ever change. Will their always be murders, prejudice, hate, despair, selfishness and chaos. Those are the things I felt all around me that day. Some of my old friends called me, expressing how they didn’t care. I remember later on when I expressed how sad I was about September 11th, one of them sad, “I don’t care, it didn’t affect the black community” I became bitter towards them and almost retaliated with the same negative energy and hate for them saying such a heartless thing and being so self absorbed, but I learned that retaliating with hate only adds fuel to the fire and brings you more hate. Some people were talking about it like it was a great horror movie and others refused to talk about it. Then something wonderful began to happen weeks and months later, I notice that a lot people I knew began to care more about each other, take notice to the good things, the small things that should have mattered and the people around them. Sad months followed, but peace, reconciliation came about and the people who I knew had despised each other for a long time, began to adore each other. Many lives were taken so that the people of this entire world, would wake up and treasure the time they have with each other, to let petty grudges and fights go. It opened the arms of the people to reason and understanding. I lit candles in my windows for those who have died. At first I believed that they died in vain, but they didn’t. We remember them, we do not have to know their faces, we know them in our hearts and every day that goes by we remember why they died, so they live on. Through this I hope that we learn that the power of the people, and the intelligence we have, is not to be used to take life but to create life and embrace it every day. It’s a long journey into this world and sometimes it is a short journey out, so make the best of the time you have, love your love ones, honor your love ones, honor yourself. Honor those who have died so that you may live, respect your friends, value life, and appreciate the helping hand a stranger may give to you, for these are the people, no matter where they come from, where they been, what their names are or how well you know; do you hear me? these are the people who may save your life someday. I can say no more but this and hope that some of it will sink into the minds of those who think they are going to live for ever and for those who just don’t care. I once heard the saying, “You are the master of your own fate” and I realized the meaning of that saying lies deep with in and is deeper than any of us know. We need to remember what happened that day, so that we can be reminded of how important life is and how quickly a life can be taken. This is how I feel, think and want to tell every person I see, when I think of September 11th. Beside the poetry reading I went to yesterday, and my fathers birthday, that is all that has been on my mind. Me and my family will be lighting candles and giving a moment of silence on September 11th, for those who have died, I hope that everyone else will do the same. Peace, love, respect and goodnight Albany.
S. Hunter-Wilson <scopeez@hotmail.com>
Pittsburgh, PA USA – Thu Aug 29 18:01:13 2002
August 30, 2002
I spent most of the day on the phone with my sister and getting some rest. My sister and her fiancé
is coming over for labor day weekend, we are going to cook out and listen to some music. It has been a long time since me and my sister has done anything together. I finally got inspired to write a poem today. The poem is about the feeling I get when I read a good poem. I can’t wait until next week, I’m going to finally have time to go to the library and get some new poetry books. The old poetry books that I have just don’t do it for me anymore. I use to read one poem out of them and get inspired and now I don’t. I can’t say that poetry is all I been thinking about because it’s not, leaving you Albany is the main thing on my mind. I don’t know how I’m going to do it. I have gotten used to writing entries every day and now I don’t know what I’m going to do. Tomorrow is my last day and I know that I’m going to have to say goodbye and I don’t want to. This has become apart of my life now and it is going to feel strange not having the opportunity to share my daily thoughts and experiences anymore. I’m going to miss you Albany.
S. Hunter-Wilson <scopeez@hotmail.com>
pittsburgh, pa USA – Fri Aug 30 20:39:58 2002
August 31, 2002
This is my last entry, and I’m very sad about it. I want to tell everyone that I enjoyed doing this. Albany has disciplined me as a writer, opened my eyes and have enabled me to challenge myself to things I thought I would never be able to do. I remember the first day I began entering my entries, I was so nervous. Even though I couldn’t see who was reading my entries, I knew people were. It was like being on stage in front of a lot of people and just talking from the top of my head all about my day, thoughts and feelings. It got easier to write my entries, once I was able to fool myself into thinking, that I’m the only one who is reading them. This has been one of the most exciting things I ever done. It almost feels like I went on an adventure. For the first time I paid close attention to how I felt and what I did every day. I thank you Albany for making me see things I could not see before, say things I could not say to anyone before, and most of all for giving me something to get up in the morning and do and be proud of, other than the usual things that I’m proud of. I will always remember you Albany, you will have a nice warm spot in my heart and comfortable place in my bio. Thank you, it was an honor being your poet log person for the month of August. Peace, love, respect and success Albany.
S. Hunter-Wilson <scopeez@hotmail.com>
pittsburgh, pa USA – Sat Aug 31 18:46:22 2002
