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Terreson Profile
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Re: In Praise of My Lover


I don't want to distract from Shab's gorgeous poem. But I got a different idea, Steveman. A place where usually quiet people feel comfortable enough to become chatty kathies and kevins.

Tere
Jan/31/2010, 2:19 pm Link to this post Send Email to Terreson   Send PM to Terreson
 
SteveParker Profile
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Re: In Praise of My Lover


I was just thinking out loud really, Tere. Not claiming any great truths. But Cathy and Kevin generally seem to want to trust people and want to be around them before they get chatty.

Steve.
Feb/1/2010, 5:35 am Link to this post Send Email to SteveParker   Send PM to SteveParker
 
Terreson Profile
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Re: In Praise of My Lover


Steve that was the spirit in which I take your comment. Likely you are right. It is logical. Still, increasingly my personal interest is in the more quiet spokes, so to speak. I tend to find what they have to say, when they feel like saying anything, delightfully, suprisingly interesting.

Not said to offend, but maybe we could take the conversation to the Board Business and Updates thread so as not to take from Shab's?

Tere
Feb/1/2010, 6:57 pm Link to this post Send Email to Terreson   Send PM to Terreson
 
carolinex Profile
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Re: In Praise of My Lover


I'm back finally. Sorry to be so slow with my thoughts. It doesn't look like a lot of thoughts but I have enjoyed spending more time now with this fine poem...I love the way this poem piles image over image and yes the dramatic voice. I always wonder now about blood and moon and I hear they are overused though a poet friend of mine made a great case recently of not worrying about cliche.

Best

Caroline

In Praise of My Lover
  
My lover does not read poetry. He does not //The first line is great! Sets up the whole piece for how to describe how a poet feels. I like how you use the negatives as a pattern too
know that my nights don't end
till the sky has turned
the color of iris after thunder
where I am tossed
between dignity and disgrace
ruin and redemption
love and lust. He does not
  
know that my pulse daydreams
of his tongue tracing the stem of my neck//love this image
where blood rolls in waves, surging
me towards a dark naked
urge away from rectitude,
that in the spaces between his heartbeats//I'm trying to picture this literally which may not be a good idea//
a single note rises to the tip of his finger
balanced on a string leading to my legs.
He doesn't know that in his absence, happiness
cracks in between my drenched lashes. Yet //happy because he is absent or the memory of him? Anyway a nice way to describe sadness

he sings for me, when I sink
in the tub, lower and lower. As his voice
deserts me, his face
turns to liquid and I break
out of my brown husk. He watches
my eyes, two ebony stones covered by the tide;
he watches my breasts, two jellyfish, floating
and grounded, the eternal conflict,
a token from my mother.//I think this stanza just beautiful

At the end of my lover's voice, the moon
and I reunite and rise from the dead sea.
Feb/4/2010, 5:58 pm Link to this post Send PM to carolinex
 


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