Today's poet

This is so lovely too Freckle. Love is a strange old thing. I definitely agree about the projection thing and have fallen foul of that in a number of past relationships but am currently totally bewildered by a love at first sight connection that keeps on astounding especially since neither parties were looking for or wanted a relationship and both of were fearful of getting involved but compelled to do so anyway. It defies belief and continues to amaze. Hope neither wakes up!

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Originally Posted by freckle

I really liked that poem too and concur with your view Mossdog....I think that love is a largely irrational affair, that we project all our wants and desires onto the loved object and sometimes it works out! other times we realise with great clarity that it has all been a figmet of our imagination!

Misplaced love
in a moonbeam
refracted unexpectedly
and now on course
for the centre
of you (me)

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planting onions
my aching back forgotten
as swallows swoop down

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Originally Posted by Hes

This is stunning Mossy. I think it is one of the best I've read in ages. I've been watching and listening to curlews up on the moors as part of my artist in residence project at Nidderdale Museum and they have also become meaningful for other reasons. I'm going to print this out and stick it up in my studio if that is ok (poet acknowledged of course :)).

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Hes, thank you for your kind words of encouragement. And I'd feel very honored to think of you placing it on your studio wall. Curlews, lapwings, golden plovers and even the occasional enigmatic snipe, abound in Teesdale at the moment (but sadly few Oyster Catchers on the north side of the dale) and they all contribute to that special, distinctive haunting mood of a Pennine Spring evening.

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Originally Posted by Hes

planting onions
my aching back forgotten
as swallows swoop down

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You've got swallows, wow
Teesdale scans all horizons
speedy friends 'come home'!

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Originally Posted by Mossdog

Er Alf, that's really deep. I too have had to read that several times and, ummmm, I'm not sure I get it yet. I think his view is that love is unfathomable and can't be contrived and so must be instantaneous, i.e at first sight, or...it ain't the real thing, or at least only a pale reflection of 'the real thing'. But perhaps I'm mis-reading????:o

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I think you are right there Mossy. The title pretty much sums up the poem which is not always the case with poetry. The two gold ingots I think are Love/Heart and the Will . Although both are powerful love will overide the will so the purest form of love is love at first sight before the will can have any effect.

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Originally Posted by Mossdog

Curlew

Startled, she protests
sleep flight
across echoing dale
shares her
crescendoing
burbling lament

this harbinger of paradox
of Spring's dawning bounty
and life's transient sorrows
casts
a mournful enchantment

time is stilled
breath suspended
mesmerized
momentarily
by her disquieting melody
perplexed by contradiction

yet sunlit pinions
soar magnificent
circle
then captivate
an enthralling magnanimity
of dreams and resignation
and
I take heart

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Thats quality Mossy :cool: I only had a few sparrows to look at out of the window today :D

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Hes

planting onions
my aching back forgotten
as swallows swoop down

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Love the way the whole thing turns round in just 3 lines :cool:

I love that Mossy. The sound of Curlew is one of the things I'm lucky enough to hear at work every day.

Quote:

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Originally Posted by Mossdog

Curlew

Startled, she protests
sleep flight
across echoing dale
shares her
crescendoing
burbling lament

this harbinger of paradox
of Spring's dawning bounty
and life's transient sorrows
casts
a mournful enchantment

time is stilled
breath suspended
mesmerized
momentarily
by her disquieting melody
perplexed by contradiction

yet sunlit pinions
soar magnificent
circle
then captivate
an enthralling magnanimity
of dreams and resignation
and
I take heart

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My Existence Years 88-96.

I drink myself lonely,
And hate myself in the morning,
A pale insipid youth,
Head banging like an engine piston,
I do this to myself night after night,
Livers shot,
But it's the only way i can keep,
The black dog from taking over,
No friends,no lover just surviving,
Only a few years left,
If i don't find another way,
Come forth the peaceful night,
Wipe away my torrid life,
In death there is no suffering,
Peace at last.

By Herakles.

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Originally Posted by Herakles

My Existence Years 88-96.

I drink myself lonely,
And hate myself in the morning,
A pale insipid youth,
Head banging like an engine piston,
I do this to myself night after night,
Livers shot,
But it's the only way i can keep,
The black dog from taking over,
No friends,no lover just surviving,
Only a few years left,
If i don't find another way,
Come forth the peaceful night,
Wipe away my torrid life,
In death there is no suffering,
Peace at last.

By Herakles.

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Like that Herakles, kind of sums up how i feel at the mo, except got a lover and friends and kids who need me, but no job, confidence, self-esteem, motivation or hair:rolleyes: