Poetry Critical - TurboSwami - 2009-2011 - 3 of 4 (w/ Comments)
The Sirens
turboswami
Sirens sing up a fragile mask for danger,
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and the dogs run out to jump and smell and know.
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The dogs, like men, love the scent of a beautiful woman,
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and will curl to protect a voice so delicate as hers.
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Clothed in the glistening of the night sea, they call,
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call from ( Read more... )
Comments 5
It is everything. The poet writing the poem, the poem itself, the words and meaning the reader picks out and feels without any ‘insider’ knowledge, and also with insider knowledge, it is nothing to do with the author, and everything to do with the author, it is the reder making connections with themselves and with another, it is creation of the new out of the old and familiar. It is art that does not need an explaination, but once you read the name of the meaning it changes from the first flush of contact into something not you any more. By ‘knowing the author’ there is no reader, no poem, no poetry ... only the superficial analysis of the creation.
It appears that poetry and the reading of it is far beyond your single issue, small time, redundant linear pyschosis.
Art is beyond you .. art is esoteric and magickal .. not a study of statistics.
- jharrison
this speaks to me when i am in process, either wrtiing or reading, creator and audience
thanks for sharing
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need a week just to comb through... then time to ponder...
thanks for sharing
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and here we are linked to it all over again
; )
thanks for sharing
got me wondering
and pondering
meandering
all good
the remarks are quite reactive!
over all..
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