I do not share Judy's vision.
Douglas Clark, Bath, Somerset, England ....
http://www.dgdclynx.plus.com
----- Original Message -----
From: "judy prince" <[log in to unmask]>
To: <[log in to unmask]>
Sent: Sunday, June 26, 2005 12:31 PM
Subject: Re: poem 2
Douglas, I do love this! Most esp:
"He never mentioned my essay."
"Beating pathways through the nettles."
"The material for the summer's onslaught."
"I left the world early, it has never come back to me."
You, by virtue of your poet-allself, belie your last two lines. Let me
rewrite them the way I see them:
Like some empty tomb---
empty, because, delivered of lies,
I live.
Judy
----- Original Message -----
From: "Douglas Clark" <[log in to unmask]>
To: <[log in to unmask]>
Sent: Sunday, June 26, 2005 7:15 AM
Subject: poem 2
>I have just been listening to Ruby Wax on Desert Island Discs explaining
>how
> at home she felt when she was in the mental hospital and this old poem
> jumped into my head...
>
> Fourteen
>
>
> At fourteen I wrote down
> How terrible it was
> For my English teacher:
> The business of no love
> And nobody there.
> He never mentioned my essay.
> The woods and the gardens
> Were clothed in the brightness of green.
> I stood and watched a woodpecker drill away.
> Beating pathways through the nettles
> I created a living pattern,
> Every moment of the summer I was outdoors
> Living wild phantasies of my imagination,
> Winter and night-times I retreated into books;
> The material for the summer's onslaught.
> Reality was not for me,
> I had had enough of that.
> I left the world early,
> It has never come back to me.
> I exist between the squeaks of my poems
> Like some empty tomb.
> I have never lived.
>
>
> Douglas Clark, Bath, Somerset, England ....
> http://www.dgdclynx.plus.com
>
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