Thanks, Doug and Deborah.
Relating to what I just mentioned in a post to Arni, I used the piece in a
reading last night, and I 'semi-sang' the final phrase/sentence: 'Nothing
more to be said'. I'm mentioning that because I'm getting intrigued by the
relationship between the poetic and the sung, it seems there's a kind of
half-way house which poetry can inhabit.
A Chide's Alphabet
Painting Without Numbers
----- Original Message -----
From: "Deborah Russell" <[log in to unmask]>
To: <[log in to unmask]>
Sent: Thursday, April 17, 2003 7:21 PM
Subject: Re: A dibble for Deborah
Very nice, similar styles. I like them both. - Deborah
Nice one, Dave. I like the short line, of course.
>NO TITLE INDEED
>When the four-week moon of your madness
>Curved on the blank pane of your head
>Obscurities thronged with obscurities
>In a dance from the living to the dead.
>You crumbled like cottony, white bread.
> No use,
>I had to go. Nothing more to be said.
It reminds me, sort of, of a poem I included on a question about 'love
poetry' for my first year students in a poetry reading course, by a
Canadian poet, who has not published for years, alas:
I have been thinking a great deal
about my bike that will be stolen.
I don't like things whose inevitability
works against me.
Why have you driven through my heart?
Make that what.
by Artie Gold
As you might guess, I really like this one...
Department of English
University of Alberta
Edmonton Alberta Canada T6G 2E5
(h)  436 3320 (b)  492 0521
he said the President said
he would not kill anyone
anymore and the way he would not kill
would be to let the killers kill
and then he would not be a killer
Eli Mandel (circa 1970)
Deborah Elizabeth Russell, Artist/Poet
Post Poems | Inside | Cityslide
Shadow Poetry | Parallels Words For The Wind
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