Thanks Patricia. As has been: Thanks Patricia. As has been written and sung beforehand, sometimes 'words are all we have to take hearts away.' And poetry does mesmerise!
Once again I failed to: Once again I failed to acknowledge these words in a timely manner and for that I apologize most sincerely and abjectly. And I also am very thankful for those words. I am sorry that I am having such a bad month,
I have been reading Poetry: I have been reading Poetry for fifty years as of this past April. Rarely have I encountered so much wisdom compressed into such a small space, and all the more powerful for its brevity. One would think humanity would learn to stop holding grudges, or would have evolved beyond such pettiness. But one of the most ancient functions of Poetry is to remind us of the best of ourselves, and how far we allow our daily lives to drift from the best of those patterns. In posting this poem, you have done much to help others; and, despite my own stubbornness with a grudge, you have actually also helped even an old fool like me.
What a haunting metaphor of,: What a haunting metaphor of, or for, despair you have created here. I particularly like the word play in the first line, and between the fifth and seventh lines. Your customary verbal skill is well displayed in the poem.
Although I, too, am mostly: Although I, too, am mostly confined to a single room in my house due to my medical difficulty, the intense and even poignant detail of your poem made me realize that my situation is not nearly as bad as sometimes, when I am in a rotten mood, I like to think of it. Thanks for the lesson in reality! This is one of Poetry's most ancient functions, to point out the truth that some of us obscure to ourselves through the mental and emotional subterfuges.
This poem contains tremendous: This poem contains tremendous wisdom. I now have seven grandchildren and two great grandchildren (those two make me feel old), and I couldn't care less about gender, or identity, or any other details like that. They are gifts from God, and how God has made them is how God has made them.
One of my three most favorite: One of my three most favorite Poets, Wallace Stevens, once wrote that one of the purposes of Poetry was to help people live through their lives. In this poem, you demonstrate how to do that in a way that, in my opinion, old Stevens himself would heartily applaud and cheer.
Sir, you are a true Poet, and: Sir, you are a true Poet, and I applaud you: from a catalogue of ordinary experiences on an ordinary 21st century day (perhaps overcast or dismal, or that is how I imagine it, as I read through this), you have constructed a poem of shrewd observation and poignant wisdom. This poem reminds me of Phil Larkin's best stuff; although, through your poem's final two lines, you achieve the escape from bitterness and disdain that Larkin never fully achieved or managed. Bravo!!!
Thank you for reading it,: Thank you for reading it, Starward. I would love to build it out into something grander that even carried an ounce of such lore.
You end up missing the person: You end up missing the person and stupid pride prevents you from friendship again. But hey, you only lost a beneficial friendship. You still have your stupid, worthless fucking pride.
>> View All Comment Activity >>