moment

[anon_j_anon]

Comments

[danahid]

There is such joy in this by the end. I love this very much. Your imagery is powerful, the emotion more powerful still. Just lovely.

[anon_j_anon]

:) I was happy when I wrote it (as trite as that sounds). I love this poem: Why Regret by Galway Kinnell.

I remember calmer days when I watched Lehrer's Newshour every night, read the paper on Saturday mornings... I kind of miss the regularity a home provides (even if that home sometimes shook with arguments, sometimes was a place of misery. It wasn't all misery all the time). Your description of your house covered in books... right at this moment, I find myself longing for that, for quiet mornings with a dish of fresh blueberries.

[danahid]

Thank you so much for the link to the poem and the PBS video, hon. They're both wonderful. :-)

[anon_j_anon]

Video here, at PBS.

[mazaher]

2: On a bike, in the middle of a thunderstorm shaking the old poplars along the road
4: In the lonely garden of a school in summer, on a round artificial pond in the shade of tall ancient rose bushes, the water still and dark, the dragonflies electric blue
5: I'm lucky there was someone who needed me, just me
9: Wish I could. I care. Are you smiling?

[anon_j_anon]

I thought of you writing this and wondered how many you had seen. You have likely seen more than this, a thousand sights lost to humans now that we are more caught up in machines than flesh and blood (in all its forms). My mother was raised on a farm, in truly peasant conditions and she sees so much more than I do. I think something has been lost in vision from mother to daughter (though something has undoubtedly been gained as well).

I am smiling.

[mazaher]

My bet is that the gain is compassion-- literally, the willingness to feel *with* another.
Just now, the resident nightingale is singing in the April drizzle. Good evening to you in your different April.

[darstellen]

This becomes even more stunning with each reread.

I'm struck by the three clusters broken into movements of three (four counting the question): 1) through the seasons, 2) media of reflection (water, the windows, the mind), 3) the dialectical movement of near and far, embrace and abyss, light and darkness, individual meaning versus humankind's history that combines in that sublime last apostrophe that twisted my heart.

[anon_j_anon]

You see the structure of my poems so clearly. Sometimes I think of it as discovering the architecture of an old house.

[ariadnechan]

I love it it is a great poem!!

idk any of the places only by movies but i totally know the 3 am

I have seeing
the dark places of 3am not knowing if the sun come out again
The dark places of my heart who ached for light but are drown in the dark
The pain of the cold in my skin and my heart where,
i wait for the dead or the life, knowing it would be the same

I have seeing you in one of that nights.
Curved facing the wall where i was in the opposite side.
i have feel your pain and your hope
but have you see me?

[anon_j_anon]

Thanks you so much for your reply. It means so very much to me. And your poem is beautiful. Please, if you have time, write more poetry (en inglés, en español, voy a leer todo).