He sure is. Sadly, humor: He sure is. Sadly, humor about the innkeeper is ultimately sardonic and ironic, as was the humor, before 1935, about the Bavarian housepainter. But hopefully, such humorous poems are being launched in a timely manner so that they can help the electorate say, "You're not rehired!" as a sequel to 2020's resounding and triumphant, "You're fired!"
I'm always honored by your: I'm always honored by your presence, great Poet, and it's an added pleasure that you took the time to read with such depth and comment with poetry itself. I loved your insights into my conclusion and the meaning of "home". Thank you kindly for your exquisite feedback.
How many more abandoned: How many more abandoned drafts would be stuffed into notebooks if I didn't have a top-tier literary connoisseur cheering me on? You'll never know what a difference you've made, bringing me back to my first love at a time when I had almost lost interest in the art. Can you put a price on such a gift?
And then there's your legacy of compassion, encouragement and healing through your own work, your Ad Astra series; this, I believe, is the ultimate triumph, because that benevolent world view and human connection is what we can take with us when this life is over. Everything else is pretty words and dust.
Be forever blessed.
I read this a second time: I read this a second time because the first time my head was swirling with so many accolades that I had to dive into it again to appreciate the multifaceted depth of this treasure. It's interesting that you mentioned Van Gogh because I've often read your aesthetically intriguing morsels and felt that they had the impact of an impressionist painting: mood and intricate contemplation translated into the language of beauty.
Here, on an undercurrent of mysterious tranquility, you reflect on the power of art and imagination to bring us "home". Otherwise we are adrift on a monotone, sterile, austere sea of survival, and that is the antithesis of our ingenious, visionary Bard!
Just not enough accolades.
This stirring invocation: This stirring invocation could apply to many people in countless situations. Brimming and gleaming with so much Christ-like charity, so much life-altering hope, it should be cherished like an heirloom. Divine refreshment.
"and we're always home" wow.: "and we're always home" wow. Brings to mind several things that probably are more intertwined than we would normally allow. Of the proverb about home being where the heart is and the feasible concept of home being our centre, we often look out the window or step onto the porch/patio/verandah and quite relatably scope the weathering, wear and tear, the wounds that hide on the outside but boil and tatter on the inside. Though we venture far and wide enough when we step back but once we realise we are still home. A potpourri of thought and verse and wonderment.
Thanks for your comment, here’s my response. Lol.: Donald, oh Donald
I just wanna say
You make me sick
Please go away
Never want to see
Or hear from you anymore
New Yorkers can't stand you
We think you're a shmuck
We all hope and pray
With any luck
You'll go to prison
And that's where
We wish you'd stay..
Leaving content aside, I think you're a pretty good writer.
Keep up the good work!
Wonderful: Wonderful imagery of soft fabrics, and a bride left at the altar the cross eyed kiss. I've been watching 19th-century dramas on TV and I picture her in an empire dress not receiving the kiss that she was anticipating lovely.
then with the juxtaposition of New York City brings us back to the Contemporary very nice
debbie
Who are you?: U
U R..
URE..
SURE?
U SURE?
U R SURE?
URE SURE?
U RE-ASURE?
U TREASURE?
U.S. TREASURE?
USE TREASURE??
U SEE TREASURE!
U N SEE TREASURE?
UNSEEN_TREASURE!
I propose a strict: I propose a strict interpretation of the First Amendment---that Congress shall make no law respecting an establishment of religion. This is a constitutional restriction upon Congress. However, it makes no mention of what a State can do. In a world in a reality in which the establishment clause did not exist in state constitutions, could a particular state's electorate vote an approval of the state's expense to fund a religious school? Should those from whom tax revenue is collected have the right to direct the way in which that revenue is spent? The Deistic Founders' hostility to religion was an expression of their Freemasonry (and I write this as a former Mason), and it found its way into the Constitution. The Founders were not perfect in their various opinions; consider how one of them declared that all people are created equal, and yet practiced chattel slavery---the poisoned fruits of which allowed him the leisure to become a vocal opponent of the British Crown.
Thank you for the kind: Thank you for the kind reply. I think back to my undergrad days, to that basement level room in the Library where the Literature and Astronomy books were housed (odd combination, really, yet to poetically significant). I---on the exterior, an awkward, shy, nerd with a pipsqueak voice; and, interiorly, the starwatcher, eager to absorb as much Poetry as I could, the way astronomers' telescopes gathered starlight---felt frustrated, reading avidly and eagerly about great Poets, but only able to see their achievements has finished totals, complete accomplished achievements. I wondered, almost obsessively, what it would have been like to watch the poems appear, one by one, in those works. What would it have been like to read the Georgics without knowing The Aeneid would soon follow; or The Waste Land without anticipating Four Quartets? But now I understand that those four years were a preparation for now---for the privilege of watching you build your Poetry, one poem posting at a time. I have been reading your Poetry for approximately three years, reading it in real time and not in a retrospective collection; reading a Poet who is obviously walking the path of Greatness (emphasis on the verb form, walking not walked) . . . right before my astounded eyes. Two events from my undergrad years are metaphors for this present tense experience of reading your Poetry: the night I saw Saturn, not as a photograph, but as a present, deep sky object in the Observatory's telescope; and the first time I heard Dvorak's New World Symphony.
Thank you again and again, my: Thank you again and again, my talented friend, for your striking, perceptive and very moving words. So honored by your presence. Your support means more than you know.
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