Well, just today, finally getting back online, as I'm away from home,
I looked at the two poems & thought I might try the thing later,
although the poems don't really speak to me as I suspect you hope they
would.
But, no, not yet...
Doug
Quoting "Bradley Omanson" <[log in to unmask]>:
> Did anyone even bother to read this book?
>
> Download "Vernal Equinox" free as a pdf file at
> http://www.scuttlebuttsmallchow.com/VernalEquinox.pdf
>
>
> "Vernal Equinox" is a lyrical cycle of seven poems written in the
> author's twenty-ninth year. They reflect her learning in literature,
> philosophy and the classics, but are less meditations of intellect
> and erudtion than songs of the unconscious, drawing their imagery
> from ancient Mediterranean wells, from Egyptian, Hebrew and Greek
> traditions.
>
> Virginia DeCourcy's first publication was an epistemological study
> on the nature of learning written when she was sixteen. During the
> same year she wrote a regular editorial column for the Colorado
> Springs Gazette-Telegraph. She graduated with honors from Rockford
> College with a double major in classics and philosophy. Subsequently
> she studied the conservation of rare books and manuscripts at the
> University of Chicago and journalism at the University of Minnesota.
> She died tragically in 1986 at the age of thirty-six. This book is
> the only public appearance of her poetry.
>
> from "Rainy Hyades":
>
> When I found spring in a thicket, in a world grown old,
> she wore a golden embroidered cap
> like Persephone’s, close-fitting as skin,
> to hide the secret hair of her autumn:
> such was Hyades rising in the enigma of rain,
> as the halo wound about the sun
> on yearning days ~~
> its passion remembered:
> a golden claw that accompanies
> the face of the sphynx.
> I loved the body,
> its rainy coolness against black deeps
> like a violet wild on a far tundra ~~
> to nourish beyond the short span of the moon,
> creating unnatural lines of grace
> among thawing streams where black carp drift
> before the divining tree.
>
>
> from "Pilgrim":
>
> As a swift horseman on urgent journey
> through a bleak roumania of foothills and snow,
> (no familiar roof toward evening),
> I entered the dark unknown of a wood
> and there discovered, in a small clearing,
> a holy burial ground of stakes
> and crucifixes, fresh-driven.
>
> The saints all hung there, flayed and torn,
> noble prey like lion or stag,
> in the art of medieval venery ~~
> dark blood staining their humble linen.
>
> It is painful
> to approach the lord in rushing night ~~
> his touch like fire that rips the face,
> twisting the sinews of the world
> to make
> a beatific faith.
>
>
> Download "Vernal Equinox" free as a pdf file at
>
> http://www.scuttlebuttsmallchow.com/VernalEquinox.pdf
>
>
Douglas Barbour
11655 - 72 Avenue NW
Edmonton Alberta T6G 0B9
That’s not a cross look it’s a sign of life
Frank O’Hara
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