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Mon 1 Nov, 2004 08:45 pm
That will never happen,
In song nor book nor poem.
Nor art or reproduction,
Not languages or wit,
Nor dark compatability,
Nor moving as we sit.
When all has been recounted,
Where sage brush bends the grass,
We merely think a sweet discourse
And people we have passed.
With love from Letty
For seed and colorbook:
a simple goodnight from Flo.
To be continued.................................................................................
Letty, that was nice. thank you.
Kind of you to say so, Paula. Thank you.
I suppose colorbook is right. It is more philosophical than poetic. Of course the twain do meet sometime.
I think it was poetic and had a lovely rhythm, the words flowed easily in my mind as I read.
Very few people want to do the poetry bit, Paula. This poem was inspired by a person that I used to know long ago.
When I was a kid, I always tried to get a 4.0 average in college the first trimester, then the rest of the year didn't matter, somehow. Now I have learned proving that I can do something is a poor substitute for continuing to do it.
The thing that I like about poetry is that each attempt is new and challenging.
Interesting.
I think I'm the same way... except I haven't learned yet.
Poetry is challenging isn't it. But it is one's own creation, you can do anything you like because it's yours.
It must give a sense of freedom to the writer.
I need to learn more.
It's a slow process, SCoates, but eventually a rewarding one.
Paula, read other poets whether you like them or not. Decide what it is that speaks to you, but more importantly what does NOT.
My father started me on that journey, by never telling me something was good if he didn't think it was good. It never offended me as a child, because I sensed his meaning.
I love poetry..it is just hard for me to understand...I get different meanings than most people...I think that i lose what the poet is trying to get across to the reader...very frustrating...
Letty, i must say that you have a knack for saying things. its always funny how when you look back on life the things you thought were so important always seem like so little that you cant imagine yourself even worrying about them.
Willow
That is exactly what happens to me. I need someone to explain it. I tried reading some poems by Emilly Dickinson on my own years ago, don't recall what I was reading, but I got frustrated and picked something else up. I couldn't get her writing's to sink in.
I could use a 'Poetry for Dummies' book.
You know something, my friends? A line that struck out at me long ago was from Langston Hughes' "Theme for English B":
If it comes out of you,
It will be true.
Just remember this. Say what is true to you, and others will follow.
From Letty with love.
Goodnight
that hardest part I think Letty is knowing what is true to you... for sometimes life is shrouded in darkness, and this shroud will sometimes cover the eyes and hinder the truth.
Seed wrote: for sometimes life is shrouded in darkness, and this shroud will sometimes cover the eyes and hinder the truth.
Seed
That dosen't sound like the up-beat fellow that first came on A2k, are you keeping good company?
keeping the best company Paula. I am very happy right now actually... i have wonderful going on right. that statement comes from times in my life when the truth was hidden from me. when i thought other things to be true that were just ridiclous now that i look back on it.
Oh my dear Seed, that happens to all of us. Thing's are rarely what they appear to be, especially when it comes to relationships.
It can be very painful to have the blinders taken off.
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