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 AUTHOR
 60to70
Joined: 7/28/2008
Msg: 471
A Valentine’s Day Poem: re the pearsPage 20 of 22    (1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10, 11, 12, 13, 14, 15, 16, 17, 18, 19, 20, 21, 22)
there was a time
I vowed I would never
react ...to anything.

baby blue
hair on your arms
level gaze
firm voice.

another time
long past a point
connecting
to nothing other than grace.

baby blue
an opera sings an aura
for each time I loved you.
 Alyosha
Joined: 10/29/2007
Msg: 472
The Overcoat
Posted: 3/7/2011 1:38:00 PM
Thank you, 60 my dear friend...

_______________

The Overcoat

Sometimes you can feel a poet
shoulder his way into a poem
as if it were a favourite
old overcoat that had never failed
to protect him against the rain, sleet
or heartbreak. He slips into it,
sleeve by sleeve. There’s lint,
a few overlooked pieces of change,
a once relevant shopping list
in the pockets and the hem
reaches an almost negligible iinch
closer to his ankles.
It might have adapted itself
to fit any one of a number of men once,
but now it has come to fit
just the one man, perfectly.
 60to70
Joined: 7/28/2008
Msg: 473
The Overcoat
Posted: 3/8/2011 11:51:04 PM
Oh....how very beautiful
I take this to my sleep with abundant gratefulness.
Nice, so very nice ..loved the "relevant shopping list"
yep.
 Alyosha
Joined: 10/29/2007
Msg: 474
The Overcoat
Posted: 3/10/2011 3:01:48 PM
Many thanks, 60to70. The "once relevant shopping list" was a bit of a mystery to me when it suggested itself but indeed felt right. I made some adjustments to the line-breaks, so that it now reads:

Sometimes you can feel a poet
shoulder his way into a poem
as if it were a favourite old overcoat
that had never failed to protect him
against the rain, sleet or heartbreak.
He slips into it, sleeve by sleeve.
There’s lint, a few overlooked pieces of change,
a once relevant shopping list
in the pockets and the hem
reaches an almost negligible inch
closer to his ankles.
It might have adapted itself
to fit any one of a number of men once,
but now it has come to fit
just the one man, perfectly.
 60to70
Joined: 7/28/2008
Msg: 475
The Overcoat
Posted: 3/10/2011 8:41:56 PM
Line-breaks and et al. Still like it. I see the value in improvement, I also see the value in not touching one word as it came. Yet, an unpolished diamond is just a diamond in the raw. So be it. The tension between what is said and not touched and what is said and refined is where all is settled...and not that peacefully. smile.
 Alyosha
Joined: 10/29/2007
Msg: 476
A sallow Khasid
Posted: 5/29/2011 9:40:58 AM
Many thanks, 60


A sallow Khasid
on a cold spring day
glanced appraisngly at me
as I drove by.
 60to70
Joined: 7/28/2008
Msg: 477
A sallow Khasid
Posted: 5/29/2011 8:14:59 PM
Love it...you are back and well...sallow...perfect. Sallow!
 pickles51
Joined: 9/22/2008
Msg: 478
view profile
History
A sallow Khasid
Posted: 5/30/2011 8:36:05 PM
Have no idea what a Khasid is
but feel I should say
Gesundheit
and clear my throat
 Alyosha
Joined: 10/29/2007
Msg: 479
A sallow Khasid
Posted: 6/1/2011 2:29:53 PM
Thanks Sixty and Pickles: I made a poor choice of the transliterated spelling for the very orthodox groups of Jews who are better known as Hassidim (employing the Hebrew plural here, the singular being "Hassid").
 Alyosha
Joined: 10/29/2007
Msg: 480
the sun, through the blear of the window
Posted: 9/1/2011 5:18:48 PM
the sun, through the blear of the window

If truth, like a handful of salt,
were spilled on a table in front of you,
and the sun, through the blear of the window,
picked out each grain to illuminate it,
would you wet your fingertips
and press them into the salt?
 Alyosha
Joined: 10/29/2007
Msg: 481
the sun, through the blear of the window
Posted: 9/3/2011 7:22:37 AM
Trulio, thanks for your several responses, the last of which, however, I have trouble applying to my poem.
 60to70
Joined: 7/28/2008
Msg: 482
the sun, through the blear of the window
Posted: 9/4/2011 7:32:12 PM
Jerr...what a firm and stern metaphor. I love this. Each word is a subtle clue to that "crushing" last query/line.
 60to70
Joined: 7/28/2008
Msg: 483
the sun, through the blear of the window
Posted: 9/4/2011 11:00:24 PM
salt is motility?
salt is something that also pierces
a wound...
sharply
even in birth.
salt in the wound.
Salt is equal to something
that is taken with an eye
for overuse.
Salt with knowledge.
 60to70
Joined: 7/28/2008
Msg: 484
the sun, through the blear of the window
Posted: 9/4/2011 11:13:14 PM
trulio....
poetry is never about the concrete nature of salt. Ever.
 60to70
Joined: 7/28/2008
Msg: 485
the sun, through the blear of the window
Posted: 9/5/2011 12:40:17 AM
Trulio..I learn much from you. Much. I spent my child in the concrete world and I now welcome the abstract rendition of existence parallel to the concrete. Its always useful to have the knowledge of salt and its properties but its also welcome to fly into the abstract and metamorphical. Peace...friend.
 60to70
Joined: 7/28/2008
Msg: 486
the sun, through the blear of the window
Posted: 9/7/2011 8:24:56 PM
You know T. I always knew the properties and the metaphors re: salt but I have appreciated the fine lesson in.....saltology. No...I mean this sincerely.
Favourite? After a complicated and taut battle in any life situation one more little screw up happens and it is indeed...."salt in the wound." Cheers
 Alyosha
Joined: 10/29/2007
Msg: 487
Rosh ha'Shona 5771
Posted: 9/29/2011 7:31:38 AM
Rosh ha’Shona 5771

The day was wandering.
The wind went around
and around. There was meaning in the air.
There is meaning in the air.

We search inside ourselves
for the multiverse that is supposedly
out there. There is so much sense
that it makes no sense at all.

I expect to go to bed
ignorant tonight, and to wake up
tomorrow, with the answer.
 Alyosha
Joined: 10/29/2007
Msg: 488
The Deaf, in Their Mute Cubicles
Posted: 2/9/2012 8:51:28 AM
How are the dead these days?
We haven’t heard from them in ages.
Under the rant and chatter
of the so-called living
runs a silence
so deeply encrypted
that not even the profoundly deaf
can hear it in their mute cubicles.
 Alyosha
Joined: 10/29/2007
Msg: 489
A Photo of Hella at Age Three
Posted: 5/3/2012 1:11:44 PM
Oh, the innocence of the very young,
who don’t even know
what innocence is!
 Alyosha
Joined: 10/29/2007
Msg: 490
Kids with cell-phones
Posted: 6/5/2012 12:13:08 PM
Kids with cell-phones
clapped to their ears,
speaking with who knows
whom or what.

The next innovation will be
devices that touch us
when we need
to be touched.
 Alyosha
Joined: 10/29/2007
Msg: 491
Ruminations
Posted: 8/30/2012 6:45:15 AM
I open my mouth
and language falls out
and I hope someone
will make sense of it.

It is not an Olympic sport, after all,
more a game
of life-sustaining tiddly-winks.
 60to70
Joined: 7/28/2008
Msg: 492
Ruminations
Posted: 8/30/2012 10:29:42 PM
"life sustaining tiddly-winks." oh very nice.

what was olympian was when you
said
I did my best
as the words whirled and carried into the breeze...
surrounded we were
by a rich ground of knowledge
unaware
in this spent debris.
So. You good? Me fine. Its a question.
 Alyosha
Joined: 10/29/2007
Msg: 493
Ruminations
Posted: 9/5/2012 3:55:00 PM
Yes, me good. You good too?
 Alyosha
Joined: 10/29/2007
Msg: 494
Theodicy
Posted: 9/9/2012 12:38:23 PM
The first child
who died of hunger
pulled God
down
into the grave with him.
 Alyosha
Joined: 10/29/2007
Msg: 495
Poem
Posted: 1/17/2013 8:09:36 AM
There are people
on either side of the wind
as the world spins
around and back,
neither taut nor slack,
and the tick tock tick of time
is both inexorable and sad..
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