Today's poet

[Grouse]

Aye it's grand that. I'm going to give my limbic system a good oiling tonight.

[Alf]

Aye it's grand that. I'm going to give my limbic system a good oiling tonight.

Don't let Margarine catch you

[stevefoster]

I'm going to give my hippocampus a dam good going over with an oily rag:w00t:

[Fleeter]

Shake the hands of doubt, Im coming home,
Leave the maps unwound...... The soul knows..... who needs a road,
Im coming home Hey! The soul knows... Hey! Who needs a road?
If I step outside then no one will know I'm not hear to hide, I'm here to grow,
Take a little step back now, take a little step...... Don't let it slide...
Don't look to the ground, look to the sky,
The soul knows....Who needs a road!

(signpostsound)

[Alf]

Me and the Today's poet thread

Meeting at Night

The grey sea and the long black land;
And the yellow half-moon large and low;
And the startled little waves that leap
In fiery ringlets from their sleep,
As I gain the cove with pushing prow,
And quench its speed i' the slushy sand.

Then a mile of warm sea-scented beach;
Three fields to cross till a farm appears;
A tap at the pane, the quick sharp scratch
And blue spurt of a lighted match,
And a voice less loud, thro' its joys and fears,
Than the two hearts beating each to each!

Robert Browning

[Alf]

I wish I could remember that first day,
First hour, first moment of your meeting me,
If bright or dim the season, it might be
Summer or winter for aught I can say;
So unrecorded did it slip away,
So blind was I to see and to foresee,
So dull to mark the budding of my tree
That would not blossom yet for many a May.
If only I could recollect it, such
A day of days! I let it come and go
As traceless as a thaw of bygone snow;
It seem'd to mean so little, meant so much;
If only now I could recall that touch,
First touch of hand in hand--Did one but know!

Christina Georgina Rossetti

[freckle]

I wish I could remember that first day,
First hour, first moment of your meeting me,
If bright or dim the season, it might be
Summer or winter for aught I can say;
So unrecorded did it slip away,
So blind was I to see and to foresee,
So dull to mark the budding of my tree
That would not blossom yet for many a May.
If only I could recollect it, such
A day of days! I let it come and go
As traceless as a thaw of bygone snow;
It seem'd to mean so little, meant so much;
If only now I could recall that touch,
First touch of hand in hand--Did one but know!

Christina Georgina Rossetti

This is a nice choice alf, bringing into focus the paradox of love's relation in time, seeming to be within and without it....

I also enjoyed Fleeters recent post...thanks to Mossy and Hes for your appreciation of my poem...:-)...I do try, currently trying my hand at prose but getting nowhere fast and distracted by research into the likes of Freud and Levi Strauss (not the jeans!) :-)

[freckle]

Variations on the Word Sleep
By Margaret Atwood

I would like to watch you sleeping,
which may not happen.
I would like to watch you,
sleeping. I would like to sleep
with you, to enter
your sleep as its smooth dark wave
slides over my head

and walk with you through that lucent
wavering forest of bluegreen leaves
with its watery sun & three moons
towards the cave where you must descend,
towards your worst fear

I would like to give you the silver
branch, the small white flower, the one
word that will protect you
from the grief at the center
of your dream, from the grief
at the center. I would like to follow
you up the long stairway
again & become
the boat that would row you back
carefully, a flame
in two cupped hands
to where your body lies
beside me, and you enter
it as easily as breathing in

I would like to be the air
that inhabits you for a moment
only. I would like to be that unnoticed
& that necessary.

[Hes]

Ode to Ink

There has to be a heart in a book
and a heart's ink,
not just curdled anxieties.
My shadow's shadow,
grave work,
sparrow nest I've tipped from a tree.
Dance was right: hell ought to be designed.
Some write in electronic ice.
Some with webs,
some with thistle down.
Generally, I'm in another precinct.
It spots my pillows, my blouses.
I've snagged my fingertips through ink's thorns,
and if I get to you
and you're still asleep
I won't kiss you by halves.
For once I won't think.

Lee Upton

[Hes]

I Carry Your Heart with Me
by E.E.Cummings

I carry your heart with me (I carry it in
my heart) I am never without it (anywhere
I go you go, my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing, my darling)

I fear no fate (for you are my fate, my sweet) I want
no world (for beautiful you are my world, my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

I carry your heart (I carry it in my heart)