Not at all;and I am grateful for the comment. You've picked up some I
hadnt known myself. I wish I could do it every time!
L
On 23 October 2014 18:27, Jill Jones <[log in to unmask]> wrote:
> Lawrence,
> Sheila says it better than me, but I do notice, maybe just me, how the
> music works through the vowel soundings (or at least the way I sound
> them) so that it begins with there and ends on prepared and, though
> moves around other vowel sounds of course, tends back to words with
> short or long e sounds - such as the wetness, met, yet as well as the
> above. So that the words man human in the last stanza drew attention
> to this man - with the name starting with E - who says he has lost the
> skill of ...
> Not sure if I am explaining it well enough. And maybe I'm drawing too
> long a bow, but it is simply how it struck me on a first read through.
> Jill
>
> ________________________Jill Jones www.jilljones.com.au
>
> ----- Original Message -----
> From: "Poetryetc: poetry and poetics"
> To:
> Cc:
> Sent:Thu, 23 Oct 2014 08:38:14 +0100
> Subject:Re: Elid's Den
>
> Thank you SO much. I do appreciate that. L
>
> On 22 October 2014 18:30, Sheila Murphy wrote:
>
> > Lawrence, this piece reminds me vividly of your musicality in full
> force,
> > fused with statement, delicately specific, moving as in full
> capacity and
> > how received.
> >
> > Sheila
> >
> > On Wed, Oct 22, 2014 at 4:17 AM, Lawrence Upton
> > wrote:
> >
> > > *Elid's Den*
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > There is another hole. That has no name
> > >
> > > of my coinage. My most secure cavity.
> > >
> > > It is devoid of widely-known entrance;
> > >
> > > and invisible, without openings for light:
> > >
> > > I go hence during day, at gloaming times,
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > to rest myself, in a pent cist of stones,
> > >
> > > out flat, walled close; under grasses, not in sight;
> > >
> > > but, now and then, when horror's overly strong
> > >
> > > for anyone of normal humorous bent,
> > >
> > > I lie too long, spent, in my sweat, clung to
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > by the covering I'm still bearing from life;
> > >
> > > what's left of a living corpse trailed by cerements.
> > >
> > > Dreading discoverers' harshness, I fear me.
> > >
> > > Should you stumble on the grave, look off;
> > >
> > > I'd rise up soon, smelling too rank, I know,
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > for measured conversation.
> > >
> > > Let me wash!
> > >
> > > I would cleanse my body and my clothing.
> > >
> > > Forgive the full wetness of my attire
> > >
> > > if we met at such time. I could explain;
> > >
> > > and yet's far better that you said no words,
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > offering greatest courtesy, being discreet,
> > >
> > > chancing consideration for a man
> > >
> > > who has lost the skill of acting human.
> > >
> > > I do not wish it to be thus, you know,
> > >
> > > remembering cold, for which I'm not prepared.
> > >
> > >
> > >
> > > [Elidius is one of the names of one who may have lived at some
> time
> > after
> > > the Roman period on Scilly, or, as it then seems to have been
> called,
> > > Ennor. There is no evidence of him apart from the earlier name of
> St
> > > Helen's island, where it is said he may have been buried, Insula
> Sancti
> > > Elidii. His feast day is 8th August. Until now he has had no
> > hagiographer.
> > >
> > > This poem, assuming it to be genuine, must be associated with the
> poem
> > > "Elid's cave" which I posted to PoetryEtc 1 October 2014 and
> perhaps with
> > > the poem "I am now almost without energy" posted 10 September]
> > >
> >
>
>
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