Posts tagged poetry

Mystery of flesh

Here is a poem I can never get enough of. I listened to Bjork’s beautiful, soulful musical rendition of thi the poem this morning ….

I Will Wade Out
E. E. Cummings

i will wade out
till my thighs are steeped in burning flowers
I will take the sun in my mouth
and leap into the ripe air
Alive
with closed eyes
to dash against darkness
in the sleeping curves of my body
Shall enter fingers of smooth mastery
with chasteness of sea-girls
Will i complete the mystery
of my flesh
I will rise
After a thousand years
lipping
flowers
And set my teeth in the silver of the moon

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Poetical technologies …

My pages have been updated – now links, photos etc. are consolidated there. I’m changing my title back after doing a search and finding this name to be claimed by someone else …
~~~~~
and now an unfinished poem, inspired by my uber saturation with social media marketing over the past few days …

tango – ing
twitter – ing
blog post
roll
o-sphere
digitized,
synthesized
before my eyes
a spread of
techie cloud computing
WORDS
conversation effect [affect]
community interface?
etsy
ravelry
facebook
myspace
all traveling
at bits per second
meta sites …
mini feeds …
micro blogging …

it’s all so …

MIND boggling

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Sharing a piece of Rumi

A Delicate Girl

 

The terrible grief of being human! Let

us drink it all, but with a difference.

 

We sit with Junnaiyd and Bestami. The

moon rising here cannot be covered with

 

cloud. There are no deaths for lovers.

Who is the self? A delicate girl that

 

flows out when we draw the sword of

selfless action. This earth eats men

 

and women, and yet we are sent to eat

the world, this place that tries to fool

 

us with tomorrow. Wait until tomorrow,

which we outwit by enjoying only this

 

now. We gather at night to celebrate

being human. Sometimes we call out low

 

to the tambourine. Fish drink the sea,

but the sea does not get smaller! We

 

eat the clouds and evening light. We

are slaves tasting the royal wine.

 

—————————————-

Right now it is snowing heavily on Pontiac. Makes me miss upstate a little … trying to figure out the immediate future is slow going. Each little thing dependent on the next on the next on the next … etc.

—————————————–

Some Kiss We Want

 

There is some kiss we want with

our whole lives, the touch of

 

spirit on the body. Seawater

begs the pear to break its shell.

 

And the lily, how passionately

it needs some wild darling! At

 

night, I open the window and ask

the moon to come and press its

 

face against mine. Breathe into

me. Close the language-door and

 

open the love-window. The moon

won’t use the door, only the window.

———————-

 

Someone who does not run

toward the allure of love

walks a road where nothing

 

lives. But this dove here

senses the love hawk floating

above, and waits, and will not

 

be driven or scared to safety.

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