So what happens January 1 for you guys? For me it was sacred space this year. Here is just one poem. I think tomorrow's post will also be one poem. I don't know beyond that.
Beyond Reason
You touched me one time,
So completely real beyond
All other real things
That I tend to float
An inch or so off the ground.
This was through the veil.
It has no logic,
No logic at all was there.
Axioms are torn
Open by your touch,
Cannot be relied upon
When I sit by you.
Only in this way
Can the rules hold in this place,
That you say it so.
So you have promised
That for this moment, this flash
Within eternity,
You will not break out
Unless you find you have to,
And you have before.
January 1, 2009 9:02 AM
Hurry
6 days ago
That I tend to float an inch or so off the ground...
ReplyDeleteLove that line....Love living there
Linda
Dear Christopher.
ReplyDeleteSo much you've been saying here, and at mine, is right and true.
I'm struggling at the moment, though very joyfully, to know what to do with what's inside (- and on the camera!) I feel I could be on the edge of some great outpouring, or perhaps it's just something that needs to be contained, and no great creative endeavour will come of it, in which case I need to accept that as of equal importance.
I don't know what I need to do, but just at this moment, I needed to come here and read.
The heart attack was a shocker - I know you were ill, but you rather understated at the time, I think!
There is a labyrinth at Chartres, and I did walk it! It's unusual to be able to. I'll write about that.
Thanks so much for everything.
"Only in this way
ReplyDeleteCan the rules hold in this place,
That you say it so."
There's so much in those lines - as in the rest of the poem - that expresses complete giving over or surrender to the other.
Here's my favorite lines, though:
"Axioms are torn
Open by your touch"
That's amazing.
Linda, May your floating gift you with what you need.
ReplyDeleteLucy, I know well that hunger, or fullness, both ways...to what?? It certainly requires an interpretation but remains wordless. Time shows it to ebb and flow quite apart from the real creativity in me. The successful drives come from elsewhere...but blast it! where? There is too much mystery in it all.
I have yet to figure out how much of the other illness, which is respiratory, has to do with this constriction (not a complete blockage) in what I think is called the descending posterior artery, a branch of the right cardiac artery.
I am glad you walked the labyrinth.
Karen, I am pleased that you find this poem so expressive. Thank you.
Christopher. There is something very ‘holistic’ about your poetry in that it seems to pull together the sensual, the ethereal, the spiritual and the natural on so many levels. It’s as if things find their raison d’être through your poems... Hmmmmm – dunno what I’m trying to say but there is a questioning yet liberating quality to your poems which I really appreciate.
ReplyDeleteCath, wow. Performance anxiety now... Thanks for that, what a humility checker it is!
ReplyDeleteWhat's wrong with me? I go around this blogging world and I think everyone has insight into me! Damned ego! And yet, you speak to me directly in this one. I believe I know what you're talking about (although I am probably mostly off) and I believe you are talking about me (only on one level, of course.) And so it is with great poetry, that we can see ourselves and our own questions reflected, examined and then placed so prettily in just a few words.
ReplyDeleteWIAW, or...
ReplyDeleteI confess, I have been lurking in each of your last 754 lives, taking notes and gathering the sense of your destiny so I can put down in a few words just this.
Or...dna tells us we are 99.3% the same critter, and about 93% the same as bonobo chimps. Thus if I gather from my deeps, I going to find yours too.
No secrets when you really get it.
metaphysical
ReplyDeletepish tosh
on a pedestal
i've been placed
you imagine me
here
now gone
there
now far
you dream
what you want
fantasize what i am
it is only me
always there rooted
in your heart
dancing
on mysterious air
only me
dendrophylax lindenii
softly dangling for your eyes
from the moist pond apple
for what were you searching?
logic?
ghost orchid
ReplyDeleteghost orchid
ReplyDelete{{{Ghost}}}
ReplyDeleteYou may dance for me anytime. Indeed, you may find me behind the next binding of quarks, or then again, playing just outside the event horizon of the nearest black hole...See next post.
I am the sphinx of the long nose, so be very careful how you tease me. I may spread my wings, fan you with the feathers of my eyebrows, and leave you ever changed.
Beautiful Ghost.....and Christopher the Philosopher...Love to you both
ReplyDeleteLinda