Don't bring me art
It's too painful
the beauty
the truth
of a place
within
buried
as
seed
for to know it
is to know
the absence
of
it
as one knows
the filling
of lungs
or
the beating
of
heart
and too
a priori
the
lack
thereof
a poem like this one is simply written as dictation--and once transcribed, I sit back and read it as if seeing it for the first time and I try to do what Keats said one should not do, work it out--I suppose that is the beauty of it--it reflects rather than gives-so look into this poem and tell me what you see
ReplyDeleteThe presentation is divine, like an arrow the through the heart, one is no longer one's own, from those very first words.
ReplyDeleteDon't bring me art
It's too painful
the beauty
the truth
Writing simply does not get better than this. I would launch a million fireworks to highlight the above conclusion and still the words written would not reflect the sentiment. Absolutely superb. Don't bring me art...sigh. Such brilliance, such simplicity. Such wealth (of feeling, heart, natural talent..)
My dearest Autumn, one thing I know for certain after five years of your comments--they never get old and the thrill of your kindness is as an ocean breeze, simply always welcomed, always appreciated. And I might add, always anticipated with great joy. Thank you. Hope you are surviving the extended visit. :-)
ReplyDeletenice poem,,,
ReplyDeletecustom wood furniture