Wednesday, July 2, 2008

My Twenty-Second Blog Entry

Dear Blog,

Today is a sunkenship day indeed. My heart will NOT go on, as so illustriously promised. You see, I have fallen into a severe and ingrown depth of amorosity. It seems as though all opportunities of succession fail me, and I come to conclusion that my only release is that of love, and that is where I have befallen yourself. Perhaps I have indebted myself too to many of these, and this love is wherefore I stand.

I am in riverrun canyons love with a friend of my mother's.

Nelta, she remains. It is in this purpose that I extend my gratuitous feelings towards her. Nelta, are you reading my portrusions? They emanate from my bosom more heavily than free flowing ducts release their sap, more perfunctorily than the dreams of a fargone boyhood aftershore benign, more sharply than the glass which shimmers on dull lake waters, more beverly than summertime in the winter, more slight than the moon slices the pavement blade deep.

It is this... eliptically.

Since then my focus on my preoccupations blithely hinder on the untowards. I can not focus cohesion, do you know how I met you, Nelta? I thought you may. In a bitter hovel I frequent, bereft of decency and nowhere near as suave as that of my dear sweet sister instead, my mother's. Those eloquent games around tables that crave support, all night, and your sweet visage upon the watch. Nelta!

So, without great affair simply set to the addage, and proverb of our times. I still go on, but not without her, whose broad shoulders set a tune to the time, whose lack of defining and most horrid facepaint reveals her stately qualities, whose gentle facial fuzz I long to caress, whose muscular ripples find event in the case.

Let me stroke you? The gentle prickles sooth my mind, and I feel only as I ever have with One other. Him.

From now on I privately adress all our correspondance through Blog. We will meet again soon.

Love,
Jonas

Monday, June 30, 2008

My Twenty-First Blog Entry

Dear Blog,

An addendum to the previous. PETA responds not to my passion, infuriation and determination, as such, I have chosen instead to become a more OFFICIAL breed of Bohemian and set the accordances accordingly to hear back in due time. Genevieve on our walk recommended I make further use of the telephone in proper acknowledgement, rather than e-mails which garden no responses. Should this be done? The expenses are great as are the night-high nerves. To the future!

-JDR

My Twentieth Blog Entry

Dear Blog,

If nothing else: an aniversary!!!!! We have been together for a full twenty which is twice ten and a fine celebration indeed.

However, my life is a deep grey fringed denomination. New directions and new colours are welcomed necessarily with a fernacious piece of lending.

Today my sister Genevieve, who makes prints, took me for a stroll among the countryside of our neighbourhood street. We discussed strange objects of desire and delight. She is concerned for many of my safeties which is a distinct matter of amusement concern. She prefers that I would continue to live beside and alongside my mother rather than in her printmaking studio apartment. This is an infeasibility. I am at home with Genevieve, or, in the French, John V. Eff (LOL) and I suspect she desires for a man friend of hers to enter living quarters. Unless that man is David Tennant: no.

I recieved a frowning cryptic e-mail in my inbox today from meding, as follows (the subject line bore fantastically: Megan Fox spotted topless in Santorini):
Your gun is set to get bigger and bigger
http://www.pleaohiat.com/

I was recommended so as not to click the link, but I am mythfully consumed with deprecation at this juncture. The RSC has not responded currently and perhaps this is an attempt to get through? A. Shakespear is known to write with coda and muddled, perhaps this was his method of notification regarding my role?

To twenty more my love and sanctification, your friend,
Jonas

Saturday, June 28, 2008

My Nineteenth Blog Entry

Dear Blog,

I don't understand where my intuitivity naive has gone!!! I used to be so responsible in my endeavours but unfortunately I do not succeed at the present time!

No response from Carnegie Hall as to my concert (just as well due to my current disinterest in the field, I suppose they heard through word-of-mouth that I was no longer available), no response from PETA as to my advantageousness, and no response from the RSC in regards to my upcoming role!

Where is the respect I once had? There is something I must rant in accordance for.

Simply because I abandoned the Poet Laureate career does not make me a person who is not respectable. It was not a field for me, as there are many fields, of wheat, of hayhair, of cotton, of jocularity and of water, there are so many fields and this could not possibly have been mine. This means I am in need of a new and greener field of pasture and here, here there is none to be found!

I must be allowed to be free and I shall be released. It is only a matter of time. I am in need of more precipitates to contact. Suggestions would be highly welcomed as those seems to be in short supply recieve.

Yours to my heart in the affections of my still well bitter blood,
Jonas Rudolf Dickinson

Wednesday, June 25, 2008

My Eighteenth Blog Entry

Dear Blog,

Meat is murder!

I am much dissuaged by depressionary unresponse, from Carnegie Hall, the Facebook, and otherwise. It seems that only a deeper appreciate insight is to follow. The likes of the greats found themselves likewise swarthed in sadness, and therefore, I have made the decision to become Bohemian. This entrails many aspects highly inclined to further my many artistic endeavours, and leave my pages of my book open to new mythologies.

As such there are two main conglomorates: mime and activism. Both of which I will endorse to those who simply miss or lack the understanding of my prodigal.



My first establishment lies far off lands. It beckons me forward to paint a photoless picture of the world. I intend to star alongside David Tennant as Hamlet in Arnold Shakespear's renowned play, Hamlet. Perhaps we shall indeed strike up the band that leads to friendship, no? I have read the script and found all of my moments to shine and am much prepared, although the play is not very good. The language is off the charts in regards to the use of language. There is such a thing as taking malleability too far! LOL!

However, I believe this shall be a tremendous learning. David Tennant is for par, but not undoubtedly lacking in fine industry establishment.

And initially, I have been continuing to attend my therapeutic appointments at the behest of my familiality. They consider the works of She (as I will refer to my attending, for reasons of confiality) as highly important to the logical development of my continued success. Sadly, she simply does not grasp the swirling gravitas galaxy of art. The impetus just rolls of her back like a duck off water. As such, research of She is perhaps no longer imminent, and I must discuss the rage I express towards the status quo in the following paragraph.



There is not a necessary grasp for any to follow my thunderous agression! We MUST band together and eliminate war! As well, it is evocative of us to pre vent, and nurture forwards against the destruction of Engendered Animals! They are everywhere, and therefore an issue of import! Why isn't anybody listening? Why must my cries be sat alone?

I weep to the world, and demand a response. E-mail me! I am considerate of your thoughts!



Yours in love, peace, foreboding and effervescence,
Jonas Rudolf Dickinson

P.S. Perhaps those of senior parlimental or senatorial positions who frequently frequent on my Blog would do to have a discourse.

Saturday, June 21, 2008

My Seventeenth Blog Entry

Dear Blog,

It has been many moons since the day I last prohibited my poetry upon your being. In honour of that, here is a new one I aspired to while dreaming days on the bus this fine young morning. I have been working greatly to improve my work, greatly in the highest expense, and therefore have improved affordingly.

From poet to infinity,
Like the celestial bosom
Of DeMille's last strenuous
Sessions with Hercules, the might
The break, heart, Sysyphian push
Cystalline in the defenceless winter
And a wither of a lamb, small
Limited in number, as an eaten veal
Would struggle towards the light.

Pulling, pushing, the womb
Can stretch your finest, fiercest hour
So definist, never let them swagger
BE STRONG IN DEFINITION
.you
and climactically would fall
towards the discotheque (metaphorical)
Phosphorous Of Ages.

In other news, I long for a vocation. Life is much and many, and I am few with suffering. I have been looking into many places quite warm, and others very cold. I have not decided as of late.

Love,
-JDR

Monday, June 16, 2008

My Sixteenth Blog Entry

Dear Blog,

Today, as of late, please take specific notice of my new cultural symbol. Persephone, of Persephone Magazine recently brought it up to my attentiveness that perhaps it is not undue with care for me to acknowledge my uninterrupted flow of ceaseful admiration for the fondly remembered LittleRadge. I wish not to beteem him with terrible anecdotes, merely as a goodly gesture for his entertainment philosophy (a new divergence!?)

As for to that, I have taken it upon the back to repeat my infractive-state with lesser stance. I maintain a politic notion of decisive indifference to his formation, but do hope he will refrain from further quick-throat endeavourances. I would only accept that he ado my gentle qualms, and seeming wonder. He is a tomato to my adamant glee.

Furtherance, I am at liberty to bring you around to my great revealing.

I have been studying the quantitative works of simple Professor William McGonagall. He is indeed full of stately stature. The temperance he delivers on the forests of Green-land are with all might. I please do advise that one follow the path that dwindles like the light of a fire-bug's radiant, to frequent his sights. You may indulge in his homeplace of http://rpo.library.utoronto.ca/poet/414.html . It is indeed a noble spire that deceases beyond his grave.

I feel that perhaps in my own body, Professor McGonagall gave great scope as serving of the position of United States Poet Laureate. I know that my own talent rises through the ashes. This is why I must err cautiously but with refrain of poet and direct my many strengths to my imminent career as Singer/Songwriter and perhaps Researcher.

This is that same one Researcher which I will evidence in follow courses.

That is all.

Love to many, one and all,
Jonas R. Dickinson
Singer/Songwriter
Researcher

Sunday, June 15, 2008

My Fifteenth Blog Entry

Dear Blog,

First as a mention, I must skip the entry one three due to superstition, like a building of importunacy.

Second, a matter of utmost disenfranchised meant.

Since my stint as United States Poet Laureate I find my thoughts, patterns, and worldly verbosity becoming increasingly unintelligibly defined. I was divested of words which now spin about my crainial cavity in patterns so unforseeable as to be rendered capricious. In summation, I am prone to the cavernous form of gibberish I now complete. Where is the structure my life once bore strongly upon the camel's back? Am I even in a legible range?

Recently, I was requested upon the whisk of my sister, Genevieve, who makes altered prints of natural dilemmas, to attend a session of therapeautic discussion. In the beginning I was unfortunately uninterested but I have found the silver light at the cloud's end.

It is in many recompenses that a fine discovery of psychiatry may suffer in severe cognitive problems. As you can see, these therapists do find. In discussing with a speaker I may discover new and cranial realms. I am up for a Nobel Prize in this respect (not yet LOL) and wish to discover more.

Cheers and wish me luck in this new and cost-expensive endeavour!

Love,
Jonas R. Dickinson
Singer/Songwriter
Researcher???

P.S. No response as of yet from my managers and producers at Carnegie Hall. Sadly, I am on tenterhooks. Perhaps Monday shall make my day!

Saturday, June 14, 2008

My Twelfth Blog Entry

Dear Blog,

As of yet no reply from my manager at Carnegie Hall regarding my sold-out series of shows as a singer-songwriter. Perhaps later in the week I will hazard a phone call as the method of e-mail inspires unworthiness. Here is a transcript of the e-mail. If you have any suggestions for my attemptation, please inform me of such and I shall re-send the piece in order for optimum singer-songwriter.

Here is my portion of the correspondance so far.

Gig
From: Jonas Dickinson
Sent: June 13, 2008 10:06:12 AM
To: booking@carnegiehall.org



To Whom It May Concern:

My name is Jonas R. Dickinson and I am a popular Singer-Songwriter, the R. stands for Rudolf, who has written a total of seven complete and beautiful songs of varying genres. I was Poet Laureate of the United States of America for some time. I was wondering if your fine Hall would adapt to my running of one week, of perhaps more when the tickets sell too swiftly, of musical shows as a Singer-Songwriter. Simply contact me if this will be the unvarying infallible case.

Thank you very much for your scintillation,
Jonas R. Dickinson
Singer-Songwriter



That is my portion of the correspondance.

In other news I have become a Facebook in recent times and am attempting to garner many friends in order to boost my popularity as a singer-songwriter. If you would like to be my friend, simply become friendly with me.

Love,
JRD

Friday, June 13, 2008

My Eleventh Blog Entry

Dear Blog,

Alack (LOL)!!!

I am happy in career and unhappy in an essential variety of garden love!

I have discovered a fond remembrance visage inside the http://littleradge.blogspot.com. Him and I must become great friends, how ever, he disregards my advantages with a batted eye and a swift un-hello. Today even did I discover that he has BLOCKED me on a popular web-site he sometimes frequents: http://www.youtube.com. Oh, how the red explanation came behind my tears, that I may not be emailed in regards to his most recent expositions due to his cruelty!

I do not respond well in the light of cruelty. In my childhood, my young sister, Genevieve, was quite harsh with me in many situations, even going so far as to bring her hand collusively to the side of my back head! LOL! Though it was not so funny at the times!

Liam Dryden, you have sadly beaten my head furiously! Please recognise that I come in peace!!!

However in my career as Singer/Songwriter I find that I am advancing in a manner similar to what is appropriate. I am learning how to perform the actions necessary. We will see. I intend to email Carnegie Hall as soon as possible in regards to a booking situations.

On love, in calamity,
Jonas R. Dickinson

Monday, June 9, 2008

My Tenth Blog Entry

It appears I have been asked to contribute to the Persephone Magazine's original album with seven songs that I have been greatly appreciating this season, like the fine threads of a wayworn gossamer windy bulk. The following are poems set to a music you hear in your dreams my child.

1. I Propose by Jonas R. Dickinson (genre: country)
Well, lick my toes and salt my hair
Find my ticks ah way out there,
In finding you, we'll find what's true
You and me together like glue.
You and me I do propose
And the finding of a marriage in a lifelong hose.
As lifelong,
As Lifelong,
I propose.
I was alone till I picked up the phone
I called that number after the tone
I gave my adress and PIN number too
And in doing so gave my love to you.
You and me I do propose
You I would never ever want to lose
As lifelong,
As Lifelong,
I propose.

2. Cover of "Mr. Blue Sky" by Jonas R. Dickinson & friends (genre: popular)
Sun is shinin' in the sky
There ain't a cloud in sight
It's stopped rainin' ev'rybody's in a play
And don't you know
It's a beautiful new day hey,hey

Runnin' down the avenue
See how the sun shines brightly in the city
On the streets where once was pity
Mister blue sky is living here today hey, hey

Mister blue sky please tell us why
You had to hide away for so long
Where did we go wrong?

Hey you with the pretty face
Welcome to the human race
A celebration, mister blue sky's up there waitin'
And today is the day we've waited for

Hey there mister blue
We're so pleased to be with you
Look around see what you do
Ev'rybody smiles at you

Mister blue sky, mister blue sky
Mister blue sky

Mister blue, you did it right
But soon comes mister night creepin' over
Now his hand is on your shoulder
Never mind I'll remember you this
I'll remember you this way

Mister blue sky please tell us why
You had to hide away for so long
Where did we go wrong?

Hey there mister blue
We're so pleased to be with you
Look around see what you do
Ev'rybody smiles at you
Ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba
Ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba ba

3. Give My Love A Sweepstake by Jonas R. Dickinson (genre: Debussyesque)
Scratching cards on a Sunday night
Given the love a heart of flight
The bingo tunes flush out mine ear
Find the cost, the cost of fear.

Friday night
It's a Friday night
The Price Is Right
On Friday night.

Emotions swift like dandy canes
The girl in a corner was quite plain
She flew a kite
She didn't bite
I asked her to be my main
My main
My main
Love.

Friday night
It's a Friday night
The Price Is Right
On Friday night.

My plus one plus size on the double
The dinner diner night of rubble
Stillenacht
Kristalnacht
Gutennacht
Merci.

Friday night
It's a Friday night
The Price is Right
On Friday night.

4. Danse of the Dasani by Jonas R. Dickinson (genre: pure beauty)
Lilt lilt
Tick tick table
Skin along my insides
Shave the flower of my flesh.
Pull away, give way to day
Dance, Dasani, Dance.

The indians fly in the cold crisp air
Turtles bright and chipper, glistening their hairs
We find a rabbit in a field
We find a crow among the real.

Pop pop, pip pip
At the native reserve
Clink of the bottles
Alcoholism served.

The bottomless pit
Of sin and ill breeding
Bliss among the skip
The skip
Skip
Skap

Dance of the Dasani
We Worship You.

5. Ditty of Dori by Jonas R. Dickinson (genre: childrens)
A lonely little spangle
A tertiary right angly
Angle
Who giggles and wiffles for joy
Who longs for the seat of a toy
With tea in her pocket
Her love in a locket
With a strangled banner waving to the Rhine
Child, my child, you will be fine.
Sway a little to the moons restative beginnings
And find the shine on the waters of your hand.
Tickle-me-Elmo with smoky sauced pansies
In-between times so soaked with regret.

6. Harriwood Castle by Jonas R. Dickinson (genre: Rock and Roll)
At Harriwood Castle, where the dinosaurs lay
Under singing times, champagne hardies
Parties
Party hardy, said the tyrannosaurus
The metaphor
For
The titanic.
Cast off and away, me hearties!
Find the light at the butt of the sea.
Smoke it with all your might
A salmon of the ocean
And finally
Finally
Return to the place you were begot
Like a turtle
And finally be free
Like a dance on the sea.
So Party,
Party hardy, said the tyrannosaurus
The metaphor
For
Your mind.
The Lucitania.
It sank like your definitions
A society of skeletons
When you fight the man
The dude
Of kings.

7. Single Brass by Jonas R. Dickinson (genre: spoken word/comedy)
Spill out your guts on the room of the dance hall comedy room! Floor it!
Isn't it interesting that you walk on a floor
When the ceiling's so bare?
Try up there! I have a great pun:
Can you hack it with us crooners?
Free up delight! Single malted ice cream
I scream, you scream, we all want to dream
Of whipped, whipped cream:
A great pun.
Like a parrot, never haughty, always solid,
In the mystery so stolid.
And I thought that we were ballads
Ballads in the heydays of contentment!

So ring ring ring with a tinkling of cream
When you find you're a solid solid dream
Of a life gone by
While you try not to die
And laugh at my songs
My mystery
And my puns.

The pun is a word game, you find in the dark
I could make money in the depths of a park
The tin of a hat
With a single loud CRACK.
Shark and opened.
Its teeth, round and round it spins
When it stops, you may not win!
The lid of the tin of the hat
Never
Does.

Perhaps a career as a singer/songwriter lies in my future? The cuisinist thinking has not boded me well, and was not my apartay. So, I hope you enjoy these songs from my heart, as they have influence my life in the extreme, and my being in a larger sense. If you are in contact with any musical producers, please be in contact with me. Direct them towards my passion, and we will find each other. It could be lucrative in many ways for all four of us.

With sincerity and deep green felt regret,
BigJoDick
Musician

Friday, May 30, 2008

My Ninth Blog Entry

Dear Blog,

I am of many regrets this morn on the dawn of our discontent. I find occasionally the sun heats me. The leaves of me shrivel and fold with my observance and regret.

It is with great calamity that I announce my resignation as United States Poet Laureate. I am looking for a new job and perhaps a Nobel Prize if possible. Simply email me for details of my philosophic excellence. I want to be a cuisinist thinker.

In any case, today a humorous occurence occured. It was happening inside the mall, happenstance of my career. Ironically, I saw that the birthday cards expressed an interest in something other than a birthday. They were expressing the age of twenty three. However, you cannot be born at the age of twenty three! LOL! I feel as if the card makers went for an IQ test and it came back negative!!!

No but in sincerity. I feel we are being robbed by the monolithic megamoth corporation of the birthday cards. If you demand satisfaction, I suggest you write inside a card and then mail it in your anger. Communally.

Thank you for your life,
Jonas R. Dickinson
Posthumous

P. S. A poem about sunrise:
Woke. Dawn.
Done and gone.

Thursday, May 29, 2008

My Eighth Blog Entry

Dear Blog,

Today I observed a sight that I beheld in the utmost of my core.

I was lounging casually along the sidewalk path street, when I discovered a small rip in the shoe of my left foot that it and me were wearing together. Stones are available to holes like these and as such I was in spired to commit the scene to poetic licence.

Please listen carefully.

A fusion of thrifts
In the wind of a lighthouse.
A ribbon of verve
In the heat of my soul.
I fall to my knees
Observing the daygate,
Waving the shroud
That I long to caress.

However, today has been a very busy month and as a result of my occupations I am having to abandon you, Blog. I will return momentarily in a few days.

Thank you for your passion,
Jonas R. Dickinson
Philosopher

Wednesday, May 28, 2008

My Seventh Blog Entry

Dear Blog,

Many happy returns, NOT! I find my duties as poet laureate to be increasingly weighted with tension and boredom. Dissatisfaction pursues me day and night.

I don't understand it, Blog! I preferred fame and infamy and joy of internal soul and money expressions. I just can't convey my having of the post! My deep, deep sorrow and tragic despair remains as of yet unpublished.

Blog, I am contemplating to end of this torrid, torrid existence of torrents. I have written a poem expression, however, the dilemma, Blog!

Also my attempts to further a career in cuisine have proved unsatisfactory. I find the connoisseurs just as ill educated as the State of the Union.

Thank you, Blog.

I wish to find an employment elsewhere and perhaps abandon my prosehungry country of heathens who do not appreciate. Where must I go to discover a bush and noteworthy of burning fulfillment? Where is David?

In other news, Sarah has not yet published my works. It is insulting and I fear plaigiarismests in the future.

Love,
Jonas R. Dickinson
Possibly FORMER of the USPL
Genius, Inc.

P. S. No poetry today. Sad.

Wednesday, January 30, 2008

My Sixth Blog Entry

Dear Blog,

This morning is a morning of many new developments. I have been asked, as Poet Laureate, to participate in my fist Media Release I am being interviewed Sharon of Persephone Magazine, a world-renowned publication of many merits et cetera.

This media release will consist of a listing of seven weird things about myself. They are written in free-form poetry style because I am poet.

1. I am
Too many of the fruits
In which I free
My soul, my soul
It is to say:
My laugh doth echo deeply
In fine wide snorts
Through the hallowed halls of history.


2. When in distress
Did call the world
My soldier.
When falling did the cat proclaim,
"My coffee swims in seas of Ovaltine."


3. Whyfore, wherefore
The fish did cry
Having Jonas, having fish
The Dickinson fish
Of years and years
Did die to be replaced
A fishless Dickinson
You would never find.
Never find.


4. To never have met the Tennant
Though powers of Laureateness should prevail
'Tis a shame of tears and snow.
We will meet soon
David.


5. Hair
Wintry
Salt and Pepper
At a new fresh early age.


6. Though my sister
Genevieve
Makes prints of wide renown
We never stoop to find the day
Her paintbrush mocks the pencil prince
A screener owns she not.


7. "Cold!"
Cried the hare, with an air of the fine
"Induced!"
Chimed the chime, harrowing the windy hare
"Asthma!"
And the coughs were plentiful.


That is the completion of my first Media Release.

In other news, my search for a small humble part time job with which to improve my poetic licencies is not going well. I have gone to many interviews but they were all too impressed at my qualifications. Thus is the paradox of the Poet Laureate. Too sagely and experienced to be permitted to gain more experience, to inexperienced too be the experience.

However I have my poet's eye for beauty on the restaurant near my home. It is the most beautifully colour co-ordinated of all the restaurants, surely, as I do know myself. The reds and yellows of the instutution are matched in their cuisine. The restaurant's trademark symbol is visible in many areas which is a testament to it's world-renowned fool. I wish to apply for a chef position there to grow my art into the fields of the culinary. This I believe is my beckoning at the moment. More to come.

Love,
Jonas R. Dickinson
United States Poet Laureate
& Future Food Guru

Tuesday, January 22, 2008

My Fifth Blog Entry

Dear Blog,

Today was very interesting day for me! I went shopping for some great new formal clothing. I bought one pinstripe suit, a la The Doctor, for formal occasions and benefits and award reveiving now that I am the P.L. Then I rode the bus home. I told a woman named Bernice about my career and I told her about this blog. I also said that she should start a blog. I can only hope that she does. She was a very poetic being. I asked for her phone number but her stop came and she left, even though I could sense the number was on the edge of her teeth.

It makes me quite happy that people are so drawn to me. I have a natural air of poesia and I am very charismatic. This is probably why I got the P.L. job. However sometimes I find it slightly difficult to navigate the seas of love! Women just do not understand Poetry or David or my love for either. I thought Bernice came close to feeling my emotions but she wore quite a bit of leather and had very large hands, which did not appeal to my sensibilities at all.

Many of my poems are now under lockdown due to me being the P.L. Thought the Library of Congress hasn't yet contacted me about the EXACT details of my position i think the United States owns all my Poems and so I can't post them here! Sorry!!! It is okay though because they are being kept by me for the sake of the country. Don't worry.

Anyway.

I am considering expanding my horizons and income via a part-time job. Any suggestions for me, for a being as poetic as such as me myself, an artistic job with passion that would inspire my poetry or the power of my words, those suggestions would be welcome. Special Challenge!!! The U.S.P.L. challenges you to write your suggestions...in poetry form!!!!

Love,
Jonas R. Dickinson
United States Library of Congress Poet Laureate

Thursday, January 17, 2008

My Third Blog Entry

Dear Blog,

Today, the Library of Congress emailed me in response to my application for United States Poet Laureate!!! This is what they told me:

Hi,

In order to apply and have your application processed and viewed for employment consideration, you may either view the job postings on our website (WWW.LOC.GOV), USA JOBs (WWW.USAJOBS.GOV), or visit/call our Customer Service Center at (202) 707-5627. As with any federal agency, you can opt to submit an either an OF-612 (federal application) which can be pulled from OPM's website (WWW.OPM.GOV) or a federal style resume'. The Library of Congress does not accept generic resumes.

All job postings have thorough instructions and offer you the convenience of applying manually or electronically on-line (AVUE). AVUE is the hiring system used at the Library of Congress which allows the applicant to be rated on the merit system. You must include the vacancy announcement number, address each Knowledge, Skill, Ability (KSAs).

If your inquiry is related to Intern/Fellowship Programs, please click on the appropriate link. The Congressional Research Service (CRS) and Copyright Office may offer such programs on their individual website.

If you are an applicant with a disability, the following proof of documentation from the following institutions is acceptable: (a) state issued rehabilitative letter, or (b) Galludet University.

Leon Turner Jr is the Manager and Coordinator for the Library*s Work Study and Student Programs. He can be reached at 202 707-2087 or e-mail at Leon Turner Jr@LOC.GOV

For issues related to Leave/Health and Retirement benefits, Thrift Savings Plan (TSP), OPF (Personnel folder, SF-50 Info regarding former employees, call (202 707-5620). You can also go online, Employee Express.

We DO NOT have a holding file; in submitting your application, make sure you are targeting a specific job that is currently being advertised by our agency.

Pay close attention to the vacancy's Who May Apply section so that you do not apply for positions marked LIMITED to LOC employees only.
**Geographical locations are shown on the first page of the posting.
**Taylor Street Annex, Washington, DC, Culpeper, VA, CONUS, and Overseas.

Fax (202) 707-1454 include the vacancy announcement number

Thank you for choosing the Library of Congress as a potential workplace and wishing you all the best in your employment endeavors.

JOBHELP


SO...there you have it: I must've gotten the job! You are reading the blog of official Library of Congress United States Poet Laureate! I emailed back my many thanks, but their email is quite complex due to the governmental nature of the Job Position so I also asked some questions about salary, copyrights of my works, etc. (in poetry form of course), but these are all quite confidential due to them being between my employer and myself. From now on, no private email posting, but I'll keep you guys all posted, wink wink, if you leave me a comment LOL.

I have written a joyful haiku poem to mark the occasion. I generally find haikus restricting which is why I used this form here, because my joy is so wide that it needs boundaries I think.

The Library of Congress
Is Mine Forever Because
I am the P.L.


Poet Laureate is here abbreviated as "P.L." just in case of privacy issues.

Love,
-Jonas

Monday, January 14, 2008

My Second Blog Entry

Dear Blog,
As of yet no reply from the Library of Congress about my application for United States Poet Laureate.  There is also a disturbing lack of reply from Sarah.  Sarah is responsible for operating my favourite website, www.david-tennant.com.  Sarah is my third favourite person (1 - David Tennant, 2 - My sister Genevieve who makes prints) so I sent her some poetry about David.  Additionally I am sending her some drawings of David That I worked on very well.

I made these drawings (the ones accompanying this very post) because I feel that because I am so talented in the Poetry field, it was time to move into the Visual Arts.  I added it to my Blogger profile as well under interests of course.  I have named them both "Dear Periwinkle" due to his periwinkle-coloured eyes.  Unfortunately, his eyes are not duly coloured in the drawing for artistic effect.


Free Image Hosting at www.ImageShack.us
Free Image Hosting at www.ImageShack.us

Also here are my poems that I also sent to Sarah.

First off is this one here, which I thought of on an overcastly autumnal day in January, while riding on the bus.  I have never written a love poem that was not about David.  I adore his everything because he is my everything.  At the time this one was my best work to date.

David my love.
David...my life...my soon-to-be spouse...
Give me some salt
And I shall pour it in your hair
The only hair
That I pour salt on.

Give me some sugar,
David.
It will be the sweetest of all the sugars.
And I shall pour it in your hair
The only hair
That I pour sugar on.

The salt and sugar will blend
Like me and you
Have blent, my love,
My dove,
A glass
Of
Lem...

Onade.

So David you have traveled
Through time
David, oh, David
As salt has traveled
As sugar has traveled
Through time
Through mine.

The Doctor you are
You are also other things
But only to me
That true love can bring.

Bring me, oh Daivd,
To your castle by the sea,
A bottle of salt
Just for you and just for me.

This is where we'll reside 
With painful anguish
In the darkness of the time lords
And love will overcome all.

This is an epic ballad, David,
Of our love and of our life
With you
With you
With you
With you
With you
I could let my head down
With you
With you
With you
With you as my life.

But after submitting this poem I did a lot of reading and as a result my style, like a good wine, aged and changed; reaching a new level of season-esque perfection.  Around this time was when I discovered the power of the periwinkle motif.  A lot of my metaphors and drawn from real life which I feel only accents the power of this poem and my words.  They come from the heart.  Enjoy, please!

David Periwinkle Tennant
Your eyes so shiny, your face so sleek.
When I meed you, hopefully in Venice
Oh how we will thrive,
Through time
Together

A TARDIS of love
Is the shape of my heart
I dreem of you sweetly
I play a lot of chess.
Also I read,
Read the lines of my palm
To see if the future
Doth hold our bond.

You're the fairest of them all
Snow white, Snow David
To follow you forever
Shorter than you
You are so tall.

Take this my glass slipper
To hold till the end
David, my slipper
As blue as your eyes
As sparkly as your soul
As I kiss it sweetly
Drinking from it
Like a glass of wine.

I hope you know now
Why I feel so strongly
I hope you feel the same way.
If we every met wrongly
Perhaps two wrongs would make a right.

A right turn
Into my heart.
David.

It is very depressing for me that Sarah has not taken the time to publish my poetry on her David Tennant fanzine (HIGHLY recommended!!!!!!!!  VERY professional artwrok and writing, click on "Fans" and then on the Fanzine, October's was my most highly revered).  I understand that it is a reasonably high-profile publication (the site is almost official and David himself has been rumoured to frequent it) but I feel my poetry is better than most other poetry out there.  Also I am looking very much for publication credits for my CV to perhaps reapply for the Laureate position assuming this year's results prove unfavourable.

Thank you for your time.

Love,
-Jonas R. Dickinson

Friday, January 11, 2008

My First Blog Entry

Dear Blog,

Today I am writing my very first blog entry. My current mood is angsty and I am currently listening to The Night Before Chrismas soundtrack.

I am now going to unburden my soul.

Recently I submitted my application for the position of United States Poet Laureate. Poetry is a field in which I excel due to my natural talents in the medium. Though I am self-educated I would consider myself to be one of the most intelligent, gifted and beautiful of all poets worldwide, dead or alive, amateur or otherwise.

This is the poem I chose to submit under the "Objective" heading of my Curriculum Vitae (CV or, to those of you less educated or poetical, my Resumé) which was submitted for the PL (Poet Laureate) position.

As of yet to be published
And snarl in the wind
I sleep with great fantasy
A bottle of wine
And travel through time.
To be the Master
(The Poet, The Laureate)
A dance I must learn
The formalities of love
Twixt my bosom and thine.

Under "Experience" I submitted this pearl of haiku that was, at the time, appropriately seasonal.

My jobs are washed a-
Way; the winds of time do rage
Follow the highway.

My special skills were written in sonnet form.

I like to walk my dog along the beach
And sift through sands of time that wash away
The lines of my old hobbies, like crochet
Which once I did quite often reach the height

Of knittery and gorgeous fabric flight
When orating do I feel so quite right
Epistellations of my heart do leak
Like sands of time through slowly swifting feet.

Step high, step tall I tell my Judo class
On Sundays by the kitchen store I pass
To aid the women in their thoughtful prose
Of seven ninety-five delight and grows.

So good and swim my dearest Bethany
To your city your city by the sea.

I can only hope that the Library of Congress will see my talent shining through the restrictive CV format and hire me for the position that is, by rights of destiny, my own.

Sincerely and Forebodingly,
Jonas R. Dickinson
United States Poet Laureate