Well, I wouldn't say it was totally clear to me either. Difference is, I
don't think that matters. I'm prepared to accept the poem as an approach to
whatever in the way of messages might get through to a coma patient, and
whatever likewise might travel in the other direction. Dunno whether it was
intended that way; but to my mind, any imprecision is part of the effect.
For instance, I don't think it matters whether the visit to Israel is
actual, emotional, or imaginary.
best joanna
Deborah, please not my correction:
Or just a curious dream. I mean - at least from here - it is hard to write
>> anything about Israel ³without² raising a bunch of questions, tempers,
>> etc.
³ People who raise questions are questionable, in my opinion. ³
Did you really say that!! I hope not. Itıs more than a little censorious
especially in these times.
As to censorship, I believe I am suggesting that the poem would benefit from
broadening its context.
Itıs not clear to me what is happening.
Where I had no trouble with the earlier poem of washing the garments which
I thought was quite good.
Stephen V
> No, Stephen.
>
> The poem is about my husband, while he was, in a coma. This was written
> for an upcoming reading at the Loveland Art Museum.
>
> People who raise questions are questionable, in my opinion. I hope you
> aren't censoring your work, for those reasons, Stephen.
>
> deborah
>
>> Deborah:
>>
>> Can I ask who the person who is in the coma? Is this about Ariel Sharon
>> in
>> some very oblique way?
>> Or just a curious dream. I mean - at least from here - it is hard to
>> write
>> anything about Israel ³without² raising a bunch of questions, tempers,
>> etc.
>>
>> Curious,
>>
>> Stephen V
>> http://stephenvincent.net/blog/
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>
>>> Visiting Israel
>>>
>>>
>>>
>>>
>>> Visiting Israel
>>> while you are in a coma . . .
>>>
>>> Your eyes
>>> are the language of butterflies
>>>
>>> In the hard cackle
>>> they, remember a word
>>> (something like
>>> a digital manipulation)
>>>
>>> Your mind's webspyder
>>> hangs on a silver thread
>>> Its lucid fandango is urgent
>>> and stuttering
>>>
>>> You try to catch a poem
>>> in your bare hands
>>> I wonder if you can
>>> or, will you ever ?
>>>
>>> In the corners of the wind
>>> I fold a purple scent
>>> The white stars of your tongue
>>> are the pungent taste of Bethlehem
>>>
>>> Israel, Israel;
>>> Israel is the color of your skin
>>>
>>> Stars, over and over
>>> again . . .
>>>
>>> Deborah Russell
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