Reading room
By Parson Thru
- 3330 reads
Is it harsh of me
To look down from these walls
Across the rooftops of a former life
And be appalled?
Is disloyalty justified
When scars redden
And the welts reappear across my back?
Whose fault is it that I’m so different?
Better just to melt away
And let the demons be
To not disturb the dogs
Would that the arc could be so smooth
As simple as an early morning flight
Unproblematic
Then why not?
I have no fear of Dantean torments
No millstone weighs around my neck
Great Peter doles its mood into my reverie
The river running through these walls
Rises to its banks when rain falls to the west
Its waters bear a constant threat
I feel them brimming now
Inundation
She and Us
Nature: the sewerage pouring through your door
Nature: Departing Manchester 6:30 for Madrid
Nature: the Phoenician
Groaning at the bottom of the sea
Nature: the demented mother
Ever-present stench of piss
Nature: when nothing else remains
But what I can do for you
And you for me
Birth
Life
And the final end of everything
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Comments
you have made the memory of
you have made the memory of hurt into a liquid, it's a fantastic metaphor
the welts reappear across my back...
groaning at the bottom of the sea...
the sewerage pouring through your door...
the river running through these walls...
the demented mother/Ever-present stench of piss
and this has the rhythm of the little waves on the edge of the tide, where the sea, the huge but not infinite past, meets the present, with the future spreading out behind, waiting
"when nothing else remains
But what I can do for you
And you for me"
you have distilled some strong thoughts/feelings, this one needs lots of reads. What is the Phoenecian?
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Thankyou. I am overawed that
Thankyou. I am overawed that you have read Ulysses!
feeling very ignorant
tiptoing away
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Phew. I think Ulysses is salt
Phew. I think Ulysses is salt in cooking, more than a few pages and my mind is overwhelmed, but those pages make everything SING
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Cherries are not from me - am
Cherries are not from me - am not an editor :0)
I like poems that hit me with an emotion. Sort of headbanging rather than waltzing around
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Cherries very well deserved
Cherries very well deserved
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yes, very well deserved. Can
yes, very well deserved. Can read it over and over and come back and it's still brillant
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The fear of guilt is a powerful attraction towards the unwanted
And nothing ferments guilt like the fear of disloyalty. A circle of fear I guess. I imagine it will be over eventually one way or another. The books are your friend, love them and they'll see you through.
I attempted Ulysses but I was kind of disappointed, I confess I skipped to Molly's brilliant monologue.
I'm also struggling with Don Quixote. I love it but it's hard work. I keep reading a bit and then forgetting what I have read the next time I pick it up, two steps forward and one back so to speak. I imagine you could read the Spanish version now?
Good luck, Kevin
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Sharp and sensitive. A moving
Sharp and sensitive. A moving read. :)
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