The Book of Madness: Poetry and Lyrics by Jolie E. Bonnette

Foreward

I’ve never considered myself much of a poet or lyricist. In fact, I gave up on any aspirations of being one a long time ago. Over time, I’ve found I’m much more adept at prose. When I look back at these works now, I experience a bizarre mix of disgust, embarrassment and amusement. I often chuckle at myself and how nihilistic I could be and how maudlin. As I grew older, I definitely got out of the habit of trying to express myself in silly, angst-riddled poetry. Unless I have a sudden shift in personality, these poems are likely to be the whole of my poetic career. I’m not particularly proud of most of them and this isn’t the whole run of them, either. I lost a few along the way to Texas storms, numerous moves and lost journal books.

One might ask why I’ve bothered to publish these at all if I’m not happy with them. The simple answer is “Just to run it up the flag pole and see who salutes.” J Another reason would be simple documentation of my works. If, in documenting, they end up in the hands of people who enjoy them, so be it. I’m not trying to be trendy or present myself as some lofty literary figure. I’m none of those things. Honestly, I hope to the gods I will never be that damned snobby and elitist. I just write what I feel like writing and do it for me just as I do with my artwork.

So sit back and grab some popcorn for this rather bizarre collection of would-be poetry. Just don’t say I didn’t warn you if you find it hard to stomach due to its sheer lack of talent and skill. *chuckle*

Jolie E. Bonnette

December 31, 2005