...it's not dark yet, but it's gettin' there...
Now that Mardi Gras is over, let's have some New Orleans poetry. Gina Ferrara is a poet who was displaced by hurricane Katrina. She evacuated to Jackson, Mississippi, leaving everything behind, including her computer with all her work. She thought she had taken a CD containing all her poetry, but when she arrived in Jackson she realized that she had grabbed the wrong CD. In the interim, Ferrara had to re-learn an old technology.
I bought a red notebook and some mechanical lead pencils, and I began writing poems by hand. . . . I found that this was a totally different process [from] using the computer. Writing poems by hand is slower, and it seems to be more of a permanent process. The page looks like grafitti, with arrows pointing in up and down directions, scratch outs, and edits done in different colored inks.After a few anxious weeks, Ferrara returned home to find that although her neighborhood had flooded, her house, and her poetry, had been spared.*
Close to ZenithHearts do not bleed,
there, up in the sky
at the other end of twine.
We are flying a kite
admist rubble
from a demolition
we cannot remember,
past birthdays and ruins
higher than the slipping sun
when we run out of twine.
The blurred kite
with hearts ablaze on gauze,
escapes from our fingers
a curious flag of surrender.
* Poets & Writers Magazine, January/February 2006, p. 59.
Oh, that is lovely -- thank you, Annie; "past birthdays and ruins" -- a terrific image.
Posted by: Hugo on Mar. 1, 2006So anyway, Annika, I've noticed your new "Glamour banner" and, at the risk of crossing the line of propriety, have this to say:
Some guys are "breast men", some are "ass men" and some are "leg men". Then, of course, there are those that are "face men".
Within the "face men" category are those that are "lip men", "hair men", "cheekbone men" and "eye men". There are prolly even "nose men" around.
Looking at the photo on your faux Glamour magazine cover (and I presume that that is all you and not just your head PhotoShopped onto someone else's body), I notice that your entire body (however pleasing it may be to others) seems, to me, to dangle like a puppet from your eyes.
For what it's worth, may I tell you that you are an "eye man"'s dream come true. I'm not sure what that means, but I think it means that there's a very "you-ness" to you that intends not to be disregarded -- and that that is announced with your eyes. Even though you have a pretty face, your face is too busy doing something else than to bother with just being pretty.
Yes, indeed, you are an "eye man"'s dream. Just thought you'd like to know.
And I shall now return to my drink...
Wow, thanks Tuning Spork. You could write hallmark cards.
Posted by: annika on Mar. 3, 2006