changes. the more i continue down this path, the more i
tap into creative parts which are completely contradictory to writing
about running. and, after weighing the relative merits of maintaining a
blog for each (running and not), i've decided to consolidate and write
what feels right at the moment under the "lupine and daisy" rubric. i
have a feeling most of this will be poetry. that's just what it boils
down to for me. it's been this way since i was eighteen and i was
writing poetry about submarines and a son of mine that still hasn't been
born - thank god. i've moved on to flowers and mountains and genitalia (they're all
the same, by the way). but it's still the same basic view of the
world. i don't really think any other way for very long. i'm starting
to think of this forum as one long lieder cycle for me. i've toyed with
taking that to more formal places in terms of maybe doing a long trip
and writing a poem each day to document the progress instead of, say, a
travelogue, but that seems like too much pressure just yet. i'll keep
it informal. i do see patterns developing, lupine and daisy each are emerging leitmotifs for me, tropes meant to invoke very
specific persons, places. and i like that. i like that there might be
some digging, some thinking on the readers' part to follow me. and if
there is none of that, that's fine too. maybe there is something to
build on.
i write this of course for myself. this
thought, this change of course is merely an abandoned sand bank. the
course of the river has moved elsewhere.
i'll see you on the other side.
"Smoke and wind and fire are all things you can feel but can't touch. Memories and dreams are like that too. They're what this world is made up of. There's really only a very short time that we get hair and teeth and put on red cloth and have bones and skin and look out eyes. Not for long. Some folks longer than others. If you're lucky, you'll get to be the one who tells the story: how the eyes have seen, the hair has blown, the caress the skin has felt, how the bones have ached.
"What the human heart is like, " he said.
"How the devil called and we did not answer.
"How we answered."
from The Man Who Fell In Love With The Moon
"What the human heart is like, " he said.
"How the devil called and we did not answer.
"How we answered."
from The Man Who Fell In Love With The Moon
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment