Ophelia's Nun

FinsburyParkCarrots

Thanks, Barroom! The first three lines of both stanzas are tetrametric, as you say. The fourth lines of each are in trimeter;
their stresses can be represented thus: "NO/ JOYS/rePINE", "AN/DROM/eDA!".

How and why do I decide to write using certain formal devices, for a particular effect on the reader? Wow, that's a good question. I'll have to think about that.

FinsburyParkCarrots

Siberian women would sing together
composing as they grouped at the stream
washing their bedclothes;
and, singing aloud, finding wild harmonies,
they would shape a new tradition
in telling tales of their lives -
"Here we wash our bedclothes in the stream" -
their song a process of work on the subject of work,
to the rhythm of work.
If one woman added in the song
a witty comment about her husband
and his lack of prowess in the bedroom
or even a comment about her prowess
in somebody else's husband's bedroom,
they'd roar laughing and shape it all into the narrative,
always fluid, always keeping the poem going,
day to day,
Its elements interchangeable
with a collective life.

But in the cloisters of western thought
The individual poet-as-priest is lauded
and their works are hallowed as concrete texts,
Their vision treated as divine inspiration
Laid upon the mind's altar like a tablet of the Word.

Let all poetry be the song of laughing women,
Never ending in print,
Never fetishised as complete,
and alive for itself in the rhythm of collective work.

Being Enlightened

"A Woman"

This is written in the Hebrew Talmud, the book where all of the sayings and preaching of Rabbis are conserved over time.

It says:

"Be very careful if you make a woman cry, because God counts her tears.
The woman came out of a man's rib.
Not from his feet to be walked on.
Not from his head to be superior, but from the side to be equal.
Under the arm to be protected, and next to the heart to be loved."




A friend of mine emailed this to me and well, just seemed fitting here so, I thought I'd send it on in.

I say, keep her next to your heart and start counting the ways you can make her smile!

exhale

I´ve read this short passage some time ago
but I´ve always wondered, if a man would ever notice it
and look at it not from a male´s point of view...

thanks for reminding

dyaogirl

Arvo Part

Clouds shape her mood, and the music
shapes in the blue sky timeless motion.
She has tears in her eyes
and whispers
My love, I'm dancing.
How the clouds form now to the way we feel together
in our pre dawn sunlight dancing

FinsburyParkCarrots

Originally posted by dyaogirl
Arvo Part

Clouds shape her mood, and the music
shapes in the blue sky timeless motion.
She has tears in her eyes
and whispers
My love, I'm dancing.
How the clouds form now to the way we feel together
in our pre dawn sunlight dancing

Clouds mirror their mirroring mood
Shaping a weave of gold in electric predawn blue.
He too weeps in joy
and whispers
Oh my love, I will dance with you.
Yes, the clouds form now to the way we feel together,
bathed by the red dawn sun, dancing into
noon glory.

FinsburyParkCarrots

How do crystals come?
A Pyrite cube? An octahedron? Diamond crystal?
How, such symmetries?
Our medium, they say is flatness,
Flatness stacks atoms to design:
"Arab mathematics knew this fact":
But here, see, closer:
flatness is a vista
Curving interminably.

Universes inside universes
Shine constellations of oeiliads and lovers' breaths
within each fractal gleam of a gem in a hand
passing waves to eye and ear and body.

And in the form of a Raphael,
Madonna and child are perfect grace:
line indissoluble, colour suggesting atoms of infinite shape,
Shaping space itself into order unbounded.

And in the celestial there is yearning
for rebirth in relocation, not fixing of absolutes:
the rebirth of stars and satellites,
the pulling of new gravities,
the changing of orbits.
The pull of love from flatness to curves:
Love as repatterning atoms.

FinsburyParkCarrots

The boots are in the back of the van
and the shovel and the drag
and the gloves
and the saw
now I'm ready
go down the bank back to front
edge in the water
mind the wasps
now start digging the cress out
on the fork
hear the water sploshing out of the forkful
now throw it up get a good swing
hup
fire it up ten feet
mind the path above
that's it, keep digging


The clues are in the back of the book
and the index and the sources
and my notes
now I'm ready
go through with a fine comb and a highlighter pen
mind to dot i's and cross t's
on the up
Feel the answers starting to come now
now write them down get a good momentum
yup
fire it out ten thousand words
reach the path above
that's it, keep studying


My love is in the crux of my heart
in each systole and dialstole
and in my breath
oh I'm ready
go through my schedule working out the practicalities
omitting no considerations
on the rise
Know my future's almost at hand now
Yes
Move five thousand little miles
To kiss the grail of love
This is real! I'm dancing!

FinsburyParkCarrots

Cassia just emailed me with her response to my Siberian women's poetry poem and, as anyone who knows her work will not be surprised to find, it's amazing!

She says:

"Siberian tigress where the shirttails soak,
bedazzled emeralds in a jungle of glad,
look not
leap not
but, for, tumbling forever in the daffodilly day....
one verse, two verse, three verse
four !
here's to love !! Fast and hearty forever more"

Dat's our cass.

rafa

Originally posted by FinsburyParkCarrots


[...]

But in the cloisters of western thought
The individual poet-as-priest is lauded
and their works are hallowed as concrete texts,
Their vision treated as divine inspiration
Laid upon the mind's altar like a tablet of the Word.

Let all poetry be the song of laughing women,
Never ending in print,
Never fetishised as complete,
and alive for itself in the rhythm of collective work.

i agree totally...
"never ending in print"
let the play begin

Being Enlightened

Originally posted by FinsburyParkCarrots
Cassia just emailed me with her response to my Siberian women's poetry poem and, as anyone who knows her work will not be surprised to find, it's amazing!

She says:

"Siberian tigress where the shirttails soak,
bedazzled emeralds in a jungle of glad,
look not
leap not
but, for, tumbling forever in the daffodilly day....
one verse, two verse, three verse
four !
here's to love !! Fast and hearty forever more"

Dat's our cass.

Oh, how I love dat cass! Spins smiles up in my heart whenever I read her schtuff! A beautiful response to a beautiful poem and shoot, you're both beautiful people so, I guess that's to be expected!

Huggles for the Pygmalion & Galatea bump, BTW! So very kind of you! Probably one of the few poems of mine that I actually think I did a pretty good job on.

FinsburyParkCarrots

It's a lovely poem, that one. Wish it was pasted onto this thread too.. cough...cough...hint...

Being Enlightened

Pygmalion And Galatea

An oil painting by Jean Leon Gerome, circa 1890. I'm moved every time I see it, it's just beautiful!

A painting hangs on his wall.
A shield is looking out for him.
Various works upon the shelf
And the faces lean side by side,
Empty sockets,
Wide, gaping maws,
'Cept for the times he dons one or the other.
Gives voice to their empty opinions.
Puts it on for all the others to see.
But for her,
For her
He is always himself.
He is always just him.
His masterpiece!
How he has given his life's blood!
Poured out his soul!
But for her,
For her.
She needs one final touch.
He embraces his passion,
Soaks in all her beauty,
Surely he could not have created her alone,
How could his hands have possibly?
How could his troubled mind perfect his dream?
A kiss.
He desires just one kiss.
Hot, firey flesh meets cold indifference,
But cupid's arrow is aimed
And blood is coming from stone today!
He lets his passion flow
And feels new life within his hands!
All his love returned!
His beauty is of the same now!
Picture perfect!
Perfectly picturesque!
His dream!
His vision!
His reality!

FinsburyParkCarrots

I love it.

FinsburyParkCarrots

When she joined the cult her pupils grew
and stayed fixed in her eyes, whatever light
was coming through our window. She'd this new
way of speaking, too: what could be bright
sounding vowels, she'd drone, and she'd intone
Some fellow's nonsense on The Last of Days,
proclaiming that this Man stood out alone
to guide his people from their soulless ways.

The Guru was recruiting ones like her,
wedding them with lustful talk of Doom
and how, with him, their paths would never err
But lead them into light. Dark filled the room
at mention of his name, but still her eyes
Blazed away with deathcult last goodbyes.

FinsburyParkCarrots

I love you easily as effortlessly as some love a liquid glissando
from Yardbird's alto, blowing 52nd Street Theme
over the rafters at the Royal Roost

and I love you more

I love you easily as magically as some love a doubled up shuffle
from Ali's flashing white boots, carrying The Greatest around the Big Cat
under the spotlight at the Houston Astrodome

and I love you more

I love you easily as legendarily as some love that Eusebio goal
deep in the net from nowhere (that makes the crowds explode in awe
every time that bit of footage has been shown since 1970)

and I love you more

I love you as loudly as some love the wahwah univibe fuzz
from Jimi's Strat, that captured the sound of a nation imagining peace
one Monday morning in Max Yasgur's farm

and yes, I love you more

more, more, more

more than other people's 100 greatest moments

and more than that again

FinsburyParkCarrots

She is Queen Titania, dreamweaving starlight gleams
Upon her softcloud firmament of summer moonbright beams;
She whispers honey lullabies where lovebees come to pass,
Into a floppy pair of ears. The Good Queen loves an ass!

dyaogirl

Originally posted by FinsburyParkCarrots
I love you easily as effortlessly as some love a liquid glissando
from Yardbird's alto, blowing 52nd Street Theme
over the rafters at the Royal Roost

and I love you more

I love you easily as magically as some love a doubled up shuffle
from Ali's flashing white boots, carrying The Greatest around the Big Cat
under the spotlight at the Houston Astrodome

and I love you more

I love you easily as legendarily as some love that Eusebio goal
deep in the net from nowhere (that makes the crowds explode in awe
every time that bit of footage has been shown since 1970)

and I love you more

I love you as loudly as some love the wahwah univibe fuzz
from Jimi's Strat, that captured the sound of a nation imagining peace
one Monday morning in Max Yasgur's farm

and yes, I love you more

more, more, more

more than other people's 100 greatest moments

and more than that again

She Kisses Him

She kisses him in the breath of response....

This Life!
Overflowing in the abundance of you!

The wonderful shared events
you have single handedly
created in my life,
bring to me a wealth of experience
and unending joy.

I love you more than those greatest moments

and more than that again

FinsburyParkCarrots

http://www.voanews.com/article.cfm?objectID=460C1755-EA3C-434A-8529FCF8D44525CD&title=Britain%20Admits%20Mistakes%20Made%20in%20Iraq

Jack Straw, he moved into I. Rackie's Farm
Jack Straw, he moved into I. Rackie's Farm
the place kept this bad cat
and he wasn't pleased with that
Jack Straw, he moved into I. Rackie's Farm

He shoo'd the cat away, said "Don't come back"
He shoo'd the cat away, said "Don't come back,
I've brought my own cat here
So off you go, cat, disappear!"
He shoo'd the cat away, said "Don't come back."

Well, rats came out the haystacks and the barns
Rats came out the haystacks and the barns
Ate everything in sight
Except the crops that had the blight
Rats came out the haystacks and the barns

His cat just cowered in his kitchen door
His cat just cowered in his kitchen door
And when a rat came near
He screeched and hollered, crazed in fear
His cat just cowered in the kitchen door

Now Jack Straw, he wants the old cat back again
Jack Straw, he wants the old cat back again
He says, "Well, yes, I was hasty;
This farm needs a cat that's nasty":
Jack Straw, he'll get the old cat back again.

Being Enlightened

dyao and Fins, you're exchange has brought happylovetears to the corners of my eyes!

*sigh* So tender and sweet!

I'd say have a fabulous day but I'm sure you already are!