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Leave comments on Gail's work here: Reader Commentaries Works transcribed from typed pages DEAR GOD BUT I AM WEAK DISAPPEARING ACT LOVELINESS Lovely Day For A Hanging MOMENT OF CLOSENESS MY DESIRE PRIMER SO YOU CAN'T FLY Three, Four Shut the Door WHO'S TO SAY Word to the Wise Works transcribed from hand written pages Discord Her Monument How I Spent My Summer Vacation Pandora Pilgrimage What to Give |
This is the start of collection of poems by Gail Ann Calmer, my mother. Gail died January 3rd, 1971 at the age of 33. I will have more to say about my mother's short tragic life later, but for now this is a simple start. The first set is from all the completed, typed poems I could find. The second set is from a much larger collection of hand written poems. A couple of minor notes about these transcriptions. I have not corrected any spelling in the first collection, except in those cases where the spelling is an obvious typo. All punctuation was left as is, even when questionable. I do not mean to leave the impression that my mother Gail was a poor speller, no doubt her spelling and punctuation would be far better than mine, if I didn't have a modern word processor. I have also tried to reproduce her typing style as best I can, all line breaks and indentations are as she intended. In the second set of hand written poetry I have been more likely to correct spelling. This because the second set could be considered drafts, and in many cases have several corrections on the page already. I am surprised the first set of typed work is so small. Some particularly vivid memories from my youth are of my mother frequently and for long periods of time (long to a child of eight) sitting at the kitchen table pounding away at her blue portable typewriter, pausing now and again to puff on a cigarette or sip some coffee. Mother wore her lipstick thick, as was the fashion of the mid sixties, and the cup brims and cigarette butts would be stained with vivid pink lip patterns. I suspect many of the typed finished pages have been lost -- sent to various publishers to be rejected or shared among a close band of amateur poet friends. One more note about the hand written set, I will start out transcribing pages that are written in a small steady hand. Some entries have an uneven text size, jumbled, scrawling, spilling up one side of the page and down the other, a beginning or ending hard to discern. Rather than poetic genius, this probably marks my mother entering into her manic or schizophrenic periods, at least this was my father's theory and he would have been better able to judge this synchronicity than I. Still I will try to match their wild energy and form when at last I get to them, which will probably be quite some time from now. Lawrence R. Calmer - January 17th, 2004 Son of Gail Ann Calmer [ Larry's Home Page ] |