Greeting dudes and dudettes, warlocks and witches, werewolves and vampires, aliens and earthlings, people of the blogs and nether regions (fairies). I am hiding out all day and it's been fandango so far. I've written one new poem, which I a bit happy with and edited the three newish ones. They're okay poems but one must be like Theseus and follow the threads out of the labyrinth.
I loikes this poem below so I does. I can't believe it's half way through the year. I'm waiting for my red roses to come out. They're ready to burst from the buds. I saw Hereafter yesterday, directed by Clint Eastwood. It has taken something of a bashing by the critics but I enjoyed it. At least it tackles some modern issues like effects of tsunamis, terrorism and spiritual crisis. I also watched Secretariat, a movie about the famous horse who won the triple crown: the Kentucky Derby, the Preakness Stakes and the Belmont Stakes. He won the Belmont Stakes by 31 lengths, of this the commentator famously said "Secretariat is widening now! He is moving like a tremendous machine!" His chief rival was a horse called Sham. Big Red as Secretariat was also know was the damsire of Stormcat and the great grandsire of Giant's Causeway. He was owned by Penny Chenery, trained by Lucien Laurin and ridden by Ron Turcotte.
Paul Celan - Corona
Autumn eats its leaf out of my hand: we are friends.
From the nuts we shell time and we teach it to walk:
then time returns to the shell.
In the mirror it's Sunday,
in dream there is room for sleeping,
our mouths speak the truth.
My eye moves down to the sex of my loved one:
we look at each other,
we exchange dark words,
we love each other like poppy and recollection,
we sleep like wine in the conches,
like the sea in the moon's blood ray.
We stand by the window embracing, and people
look up from the street:
it is time they knew!
It is time the stone made an effort to flower,
time unrest had a beating heart.
It is time it were time.
It is time.
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