View From The Northern Wall: Making Camp

Saturday, January 25, 2014

Making Camp

It is ash now, ash
where we built the fire after
yesterday's long hike
into love's wild ways,
where we came to rest, singing
twelve songs of wonder
all in angelic
tones, as if it was written
that we give love voice.

September 3, 2010 9:46 AM

2 comments:

TomJanuary 26, 2014 at 6:40 AM
I bless the day I was given a second chance. :)
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christopherJanuary 26, 2014 at 8:42 PM
Cherish your loves. The world is often kind like this. Often it is not. Cherish your loves.
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The chicken crossed the road. That's poultry in motion.

The View From The Northern Wall

Some years ago my poetry took on a mythic flavor and I became a character in my own poems, a mage, "the man of the Northern Wall". This apellation is not completely fictional. My middle name is Noordwal, a Dutch term for north wall, though in current Dutch it mainly means north bank as in riverbank. I was told that an ancestor, a Portugese Jew escaping the Inquisition, settled in a small Dutch town and took this name from where he settled, near the north wall of the town. I have thought for a long time that -wal meant wall, think my mother told me that. A linguist might say that my usage is no longer common, is an older usage, but then the Inquisition happened in Portugal a few centuries ago, right around the time the Moors lost control of the Iberian Peninsula and the Jews lost the modest protection given them by Islam. Now I write as this mage, my poetry persona.

View From The Northern Wall

Saturday, January 25, 2014

Making Camp

2 comments:

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