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Lizziness, your "Routine Lives" is really excellent... I'm sure you got more stuff that should see the light of day :) Diseases that ooze from fingertips like smog... and all those identical stylized families... very cool imagery.
I looked up online some of your favorite poets/poetry, thanks for sharing! I'm such a dork, that was the first time I really read Ginsberg! Drug use never really inspired me either. Though I remember trying to write a coherant "lab report" on the use of acid one night, while tripping. Wonder where that got to, ha! Probably lost in one of my moves. Or not... Boy, if I ever get hit by a truck or something, my family is going to have some interesting reading at their fingertips. A few of my favorites are Pablo Neruda, Rumi, Mary Oliver. I really need to get back into exploring poetry. I got books just crying out to be read! Oh, and I love haiku too, so thank you Solar for yours! Solar, the Deerfield archaeology dig was at the E.H. Williams home site. Have not seen the hermit holes, your "sweat lodge" theory sounds very reasonable though :) |
Okay, you gals have inspired me to share some of my own. I wrote this one many years ago when I was high on love. Now, I'm just a cynical "spinster" :lol: but I think it's still my favorite work.
"Grow Old with Me" Stay beside me Hold my hand Walk along through this troubled world Hold me Kiss me Always keep me safe Together Two of us Who knows what the future holds Family Wealth Dreams come true Rocking chairs Front porches A home of our own someday Babies Grandkids Waking up to you every morning Sickness & Health And wrinkles But you're still gorgeous In my heart In my soul You'll always be Love me Til the end of time... Grow old with me |
That's lovely, Becqris. :) Thank you for sharing it with us.
Sarah... Gold in Darkness is very cool. :smoking: |
A little bit 'o Pablo Neruda for this Sunday...
Ok, this isn't one of mine, but I love his imagery. His love poetry is stunningly gorgeous also, very tender and full of knowing details.
This is from Full Woman, Fleshly Apple, Hot Moon, translated by Stephen Mitchell. Nice copy since it has the English translation on one side and Neruda's original Spanish on the other. Some Beasts (from Canto General) It was the twilight of the iguana. From the rainbow-arched battlements his tongue like a dart plunged into the greenness, the monastic ant-swarm walked through the jungle with melodious feet, the guanaco, thin as oxygen in the wide gray heights, moved wearing boots of gold, while the llama opened his guileless eyes in the transparency of a world filled with dew. The monkeys braided a thread endlessly erotic along the shores of the dawn, demolishing walls of pollen and scaring off the violet flight of the butterflies of Muzo. It was the night of the alligators, the night pure and pullulating with snouts emerging from the slime, and out of the sleepy marshes an opaque noise of armor returned to the earth it came from. The jaguar touched the leaves with his phosphorescent absence, the puma runs on the branches like a devouring fire while inside him burn the jungle's alcoholic eyes. The badgers scratch the feet of the river, sniff out the nest whose throbbing delight they'll attack with red teeth. And in the depths of the all-powerful water, like the circle of the earth, lies the giant anaconda, covered with ritual mud, devouring and religious. |
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