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buckman
Firefly

USA
2703 Posts

Posted - 04/06/2007 :  08:37:41  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Poem: "Failing and Flying" by Jack Gilbert, from Refusing Heaven. ©


Everyone forgets that Icarus also flew.
It's the same when love comes to an end,
or the marriage fails and people say
they knew it was a mistake, that everybody
said it would never work. That she was
old enough to know better. But anything
worth doing is worth doing badly.
Like being there by that summer ocean
on the other side of the island while
love was fading out of her, the stars
burning so extravagantly those nights that
anyone could tell you they would never last.
Every morning she was asleep in my bed
like a visitation, the gentleness in her
like antelope standing in the dawn mist.
Each afternoon I watched her coming back
through the hot stony field after swimming,
the sea light behind her and the huge sky
on the other side of that. Listened to her
while we ate lunch. How can they say
the marriage failed? Like the people who
came back from Provence (when it was Provence)
and said it was pretty but the food was greasy.
I believe Icarus was not failing as he fell,
but just coming to the end of triumph.




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aussiedave
Swinger

Australia
506 Posts

Posted - 04/08/2007 :  04:29:41  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Send aussiedave a Yahoo! Message  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Has Dorothy misplaced her red shoes?
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Doug L
Firefly

Canada
5432 Posts

Posted - 04/08/2007 :  04:51:19  Show Profile  Visit Doug L's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Yes, Henry. It is a strong poem. Jack is
speaking of Santorini, days with Linda,
the Aegean, the hot stones, and a love so
splendorous even in its denouement. They
lived in a place called Monolithos, which
means 'single stone'. He named one of his
books after that place. I saw them together
in San Francisco at a radio station, we
were both there to be on my friend Bart's
late night show. I sang a few songs and
Jack read, read magnificently, a few of his
fine poems. "This is to tell you I am not
coming back / to tell you instead of my
life among people / who must wrestle their
hearts / in order to feel anything." No
matter what happens to us, there is a
poem or a song waiting to be our friend.
And then there are days when we choose
our own way, leave the path for a wider
adventure, even days when we write our
own poems and songs. You've done it and
I've done it. Those are the days that
we bring the sun back north. There are
no curtains strong enough or dark enough
to block its light. That poem I quoted
from above is from Monolithos, is called
A Description Of Happiness.


http://www.myspace.com/mickeynewbury
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1809 Posts

Posted - 04/08/2007 :  20:59:19  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Salvatierra says he's drunker than he thought. He walks over to the mirror in the front room and stares into it. "I could seperate myself from the quicksilver of the mirror I was leaning against, or what I mean is, I could peel my hands off the glass of that old mirror (noticing all the same, how my fingerprints lingered like ten tiny faces speaking in unison and so quickly that I couldn't make out their words.)"

~Roberto Bolano~
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1809 Posts

Posted - 04/08/2007 :  21:03:37  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Of course nothing is as it seems and always as it should be. I save everything, Ro. I try to. The old poems and songs and stuff. I went out to the barn... The old dresser that I love. Silver comin' off the back of it... Hardly no mirror left at all...Beveled glass. Oh, how I loved it...

~Mickey Newbury~
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1809 Posts

Posted - 04/12/2007 :  12:01:18  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"...when a society is in great danger, (writers are) likely to sound the alarms. I have the canary-bird-in-the-coal-mine theory of the arts. You know, coal miners used to take the birds down into the mines with them to detect gas before men got sick. The artists certainly did that in the case of Vietnam. They chirped and keeled over. But it made no difference whatsoever. Nobody important cared. But I continue to think that artists -all artists- should be treasured as alarm systems."
1973

"Poverty is a relatively mild disease...but uselessness will kill strong and weak souls alike."
1965

"You cannot be a good writer of serious fiction if you are not depressed."
Undated speech to American Psychiatric Assn.

"We are what we pretend to be, so we must be careful about what we pretend to be."
1962

"When I think about my own death, I don't console myself with the idea that my descendants and my books and all that will live on. Anybody with any sense knows that the whole solar system will go up like a celluloid collar by-the-by. I honestly believe, though, that we are wrong to think that moments go away, never to be seen again. This moment and every moment lasts forever."
1974

An American original.

Kurt Vonnegut
1922 ~ 2007

~So it goes~


Edited by - Ailinn on 04/12/2007 12:03:24
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Joe Z
Windchimer

USA
1808 Posts

Posted - 04/12/2007 :  12:25:21  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
The travels of Billy Pilgrim changed the way I think about time and space.
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Doug L
Firefly

Canada
5432 Posts

Posted - 04/12/2007 :  12:49:13  Show Profile  Visit Doug L's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
An original...

http://www.myspace.com/mickeynewbury
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Craig
Firefly

Kyrgyzstan
3779 Posts

Posted - 04/12/2007 :  19:31:22  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Schlachthof Fünf
I was taken to Dresden, not realizing that the author had been there...along with Billy Pilgrim. Tralfamadore became a real place, and who could ever forget the twisted mind of Paul Lazzaro.

Then of course "Cat's Cradle" and "Slapstick", the tale of Daffodil and "Lonesome No More".

Always trying to figure out where he was coming from, not knowing where we had been...and the places where we were being taken.

Yes..."so it goes"

craig

Edited by - Craig on 04/12/2007 19:33:19
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aussiedave
Swinger

Australia
506 Posts

Posted - 04/15/2007 :  04:23:40  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Send aussiedave a Yahoo! Message  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
...and he drove on into the night
alone,
a melancholic memory sitting right beside him,
this his second companion, not that he felt lonely
for he preferred his own company

a selfish trait really,
so self-centered

and he was one with his vehicle,
entombed,
an entity in a compact space,
his melancholic memory and himself
as he slid along that highway anaconda
toward a rendeavous with his past
watched by a million astral eyes
a canyon filled star studded sky

this his first companion
being one with the universe
an eternity of distance at arms length...
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1809 Posts

Posted - 04/15/2007 :  16:00:15  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"...an eternity of distance at arms length..."

AD~ There's a place out on the Borrego Badlands where you can walk into the night sky. No city lights. Just the black and stars around you.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1809 Posts

Posted - 04/15/2007 :  16:37:05  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Before dawn, while you're still sleeping,
Playing the part of a dreamer whose house is an ark
Tossed about by a flood that will never subside,
Its dove doomed to return with no twig,
Your neighbor's already up, pulling his boots on,
Playing the part of a fisherman,
Gathering gear and loading his truck
And driving to the river and wading in
As if fishing is all he ever wanted.

~Carl Dennis~
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1809 Posts

Posted - 04/15/2007 :  16:55:28  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
First, a hazy radiance. A mist of rain. His raised hammered cup. Her amber lantern moving quickly through the trees. Then the sky unspooled. A star fell. A flood of mystery. "Take haste with the children!" he cried under thunder as they fled across the lightning-striped moor. The portent rain fell down around them. When they reached the edge of the driftwood-choked shore they tumbled into the mocking ocean. The crossing was centuries long longing for higher ground. Sea serpents interrupted his dreaming. His inventory of the sky. His stories all recalling stormy weather. Abandoned souls endlessly petitioning his rescue-worn heart. What else could he do but save them? One Sunday he found the providential inlet and pulled the Ark ashore.
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1809 Posts

Posted - 04/15/2007 :  17:23:23  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
"It happened that quickly!" she says and snaps her water-logged fingers. The lamps glow low and blossom against the adobe. In dusky light he sits at the old oaken table with his warm cup before him. His cloudy fruit with its spiraling vines. "Two kinds of grapes on the arbor..." he muses. He moves closer to the open oven door and tips back in his gravity-defying chair, "...good grapes, too." She nods and continues sweeping wonder across the kitchen floor.
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aussiedave
Swinger

Australia
506 Posts

Posted - 04/21/2007 :  01:43:22  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Send aussiedave a Yahoo! Message  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
..funny how that road looks the same
after all those years

his gaze held captive
by a forty year memory
as an eleven year old
sitting in the rear seat
of the ghost car in front

his gaze shifted
held forever briefly
to that shattered rear view
a mirrored anaconda
in a rectangled frame
his past captured by the present
as it disappeared into the distance..
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aussiedave
Swinger

Australia
506 Posts

Posted - 04/21/2007 :  01:46:16  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Send aussiedave a Yahoo! Message  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
he remembered..
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aussiedave
Swinger

Australia
506 Posts

Posted - 04/26/2007 :  04:23:49  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Send aussiedave a Yahoo! Message  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
how he had changed
but how he had changed not
an eleven year old
left clinging
inside the body

of a fifty year old child..

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buckman
Firefly

USA
2703 Posts

Posted - 04/26/2007 :  06:48:55  Show Profile  Visit buckman's Homepage  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
I have gone to that
dark heart of the night
And seen myself looking back at me
As in a mirror
Asking,
How did I come to this?

Flying in a dream...
Ready to die but
No longer wanting to.
It is time to shed the old
Dead skin and bring out
The new wine...

Tonite we dance...

Rev B
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aussiedave
Swinger

Australia
506 Posts

Posted - 04/26/2007 :  14:55:40  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Send aussiedave a Yahoo! Message  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
shake that rusty chain and let it go.........
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Ailinn
Windchimer

1809 Posts

Posted - 04/26/2007 :  17:57:10  Show Profile  Edit Reply  Reply with Quote  View user's IP address  Delete Reply
Evening, Reverend B~
Any place you land is a good place. Even if the beach is fog-bound. Even if you don't know where you're touching the ground. It's not drifting out that's dangerous. The tide will bring you back in. It's not knowing where the bottom is. Churning in the wave. Trying to get enough breath before you're caught in the next one. The board is attatched to your ankle with a leash. It floats. It can also hit you in the head. The trick is knowing when to kick free. Today's surf was choppy. Paddle out, snap up, ride in quick. Or wipe out and eat some sand. Some days you eat a lot of sand.
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