Morning HHH how's things today.
Morning HHH how's things today.
I like that HHH, Wendy is great. I need to get off of here and go for the long run I promised myself...better take a notebook and pen in case inspiration strikes. I need a new running watch, do you think I can get a garmin with a dictaphone? (I should point out that I've never owned a garmin as I think you would probably need a degree in computer science to work one or is that just me being a luddite?Originally Posted by Harry H Howgill
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There is a lovely quote from Ted Hughes regards Wendy Cope on the back cover of her "Two Cures for Love". It goes...I like that HHH, Wendy is great. I need to get off of here and go for the long run I promised myself...better take a notebook and pen in case inspiration strikes. I need a new running watch, do you think I can get a garmin with a dictaphone? (I should point out that I've never owned a garmin as I think you would probably need a degree in computer science to work one or is that just me being a luddite?
"I like your deadpan fearless sort of way of whacking the nail on the head - when everyone else is trying to hang pictures on it."
Which is a beautiful way of putting it. I have to agree.
A garmin with a dictaphone would be a wonderful thing. So many ideas come to me when running, but get lost again before I get back. You could pinpoint the grid reference each time inspiration strikes too!
Have a great poetry-inducing run
Harry
Having a pleasantly lazy day thanks. Haircut, wandering round book shops and planning days out in the hills.
Woooo..im putting together a bday poem
Mouth and Tongue
He belongs to her,
like a tongue to its mouth,
and the soft lips on her skull
seek him out,
as do the soft lips
on the bony mount.
He came this way
and forever changed the shape
of the ether in her rooms,
opened up the window
in the ceiling to her sky.
He held a cluster,
a loose cascade of rubies,
blue sapphires
and a solitary diamond
in his palm.
And while he spoke the words,
poem of his heart,
so she would know at last
with the forefront of her mind,
and cease forgetting,
he hung the gently sparkling stones
from every point in the space
wherein they stood.
Then he looked up,
silent, his smile trembling,
and watched her face
as she realised who he was,
what he had done.
For she belongs to him
like a mouth belongs
to its tongue.
Alisha Sufit
Am Yisrael Chai
Sand of Time
My friend is drowning in the sand,
and we stand by and watch.
Like others, I stretch out a hand,
but there is little we can do.
We talk and laugh,
though weep in hiding,
entertain to pass the time,
while she is slowly sinking down,
to take her mind away from pain
of where this ends,
to help her tarry with the Now.
She half pretends it can’t be so.
A potion must soon be devised
to contradict this fate.
A bird down from the cloud will come
and take her off before it is too late.
The giant sole of time’s foot falls
and shadows all of us at last.
I hear the numbers
called out at the boating lake -
“Come in number 3! Your time is up!”
So helplessly we stand and watch
as the reaper drains her cup.
Still patiently she waits, with dignity and grace.
She’s rarely out of sorts within her mind.
She stares death bravely in the face.
But now a tiny edge of anger has crept in
as she counts the shortening hours
and sees there’s no escape.
The station of departure looms.
Life rules, a titan mocking our small powers.
We’re but a million tiny pawns
destined for a million tombs.
Alisha Sufit
Am Yisrael Chai
Wow!!!
Moss Dog, those have to be two of the most powerful poems that we've had. I love them both and so very different. The passion of the first is incredible. Thanks for discovering her. I've just read that she is a poet, artist and musician!
What a great quote! I'm typing as I stretch my hamstrings after a two hour very hilly run. I think I have a couple poems in me as a result. Sounds like you had a nice day HHH.
And Happy Birthday to TurboTom...looking forward to that poem.
Lying asleep between the strokes of night
I saw my love lean over my sad bed,
Pale as the duskiest lily's leaf or head
Smooth-skinned and dark, with bare throat made to bite
Too wan for blushing and too warm for white,
But perfect-coloured without white or red
And her lips opened amorously, and said -
I wist not what, saving one word - Delight
And all her face was honey to my mouth,
And all her body pasture to mine eyes
The long lithe arms and hotter hands than fire
The quivering flanks, hair smelling of the south,
The bright light feet, the splendid supple thighs
And glittering eyelids of my soul's desire
Love and Sleep
Algernon Charles Swinburne
Poacher turned game-keeper
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