fiction, poems and other general flirtatious happenings
Tuesday, March 03, 2009
Quiet
Quiet has a sound life breathing hello and goodbye; either way she renders no judgment a gentle breathing of the day a gentle sighing of the night making not the distinctions that turn rice to blight
Lovely, and as tranquil in sound as it is in words, poetry as it best can be, where the words, singular, matter not (in a manner of speaking), and one feels sure non-English speakers hearing the words spoken would feel it as deeply.
This poem, as the one below it are linked, like twins, by the parent concept of Quiet. As I was writing these, the house was quiet, the world was quiet and the day was exhaling birds. :-D
Okay, Trée, color me stupid, but I don't get the 'rice to blight.' Other than that the rest of the poem is brilliant; it actually made me feel calm. Thank you.
Bel, the idea with rice and blight is that something good (rice, substance, food, a job, etc) could be turned bad (blight, disease, ruin, bankruptcy) because of labels and distinctions we make, positions we take, something the quiet of the morning does not do. Let me know if that helps. If not, I can try again to explain what I was thinking. :-)
Thank you, that makes sense. Guess I was just bothered by something interrupting my calm because I reread it after reading your comment and still felt uneasy at the end. You are writing well to draw those emotions.... Any connection to the food drive as well?
You lost me on food drive. So, I guess the answer there would be no. The idea was general rather than specific. Thinking, as it has been said, can make a hell of heaven or a heaven of hell. The quiet of the morning simply is, nothing else added, no layer to its cake, just the gentle breathing of direct experience.
8 comments:
Lovely, and as tranquil in sound as it is in words, poetry as it best can be, where the words, singular, matter not (in a manner of speaking), and one feels sure non-English speakers hearing the words spoken would feel it as deeply.
This poem, as the one below it are linked, like twins, by the parent concept of Quiet. As I was writing these, the house was quiet, the world was quiet and the day was exhaling birds. :-D
Okay, Trée, color me stupid, but I don't get the 'rice to blight.' Other than that the rest of the poem is brilliant; it actually made me feel calm. Thank you.
Bel, the idea with rice and blight is that something good (rice, substance, food, a job, etc) could be turned bad (blight, disease, ruin, bankruptcy) because of labels and distinctions we make, positions we take, something the quiet of the morning does not do. Let me know if that helps. If not, I can try again to explain what I was thinking. :-)
Thank you, that makes sense. Guess I was just bothered by something interrupting my calm because I reread it after reading your comment and still felt uneasy at the end. You are writing well to draw those emotions.... Any connection to the food drive as well?
You lost me on food drive. So, I guess the answer there would be no. The idea was general rather than specific. Thinking, as it has been said, can make a hell of heaven or a heaven of hell. The quiet of the morning simply is, nothing else added, no layer to its cake, just the gentle breathing of direct experience.
Since I am truly always thinking, I occasionally overthink. Forgive me? ;-)
Of course. I've been known to think a little too much myself, a habit my amber friend is helping me erase. :-)
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