Tho I have not looked at the poem in awhile, this one, Peter, echoes Poe's
The Raven for me which echoes back to the landscapes of your visual work. I
wonder (out loud here) if, at some point,you have to break that landscape
open and see what falls out. I guess my concern is that the motif can become
a prison. Like throwing the nineteenth century back on its head.
Just a thought,
Stephen V
http://stephenvincent.net/blog/
> I think I would be wild then
> Sounding the radar depths of myself
> With untailored looks and
> Discarded prudence whose wind
> I would use for these hastily fashioned wings
> Sufficient to carry to speculate
> Adequate for the journey and
> Comforting if not in manufacture
> Then in philosophy of the expedition itself
> Whose impending congress yields to the other
> Of me cautious and precipitous with doom
> Having returned again to the starting point
> And finding myself still there
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> Peter Ciccariello
> Rhode Island, USA
> 4/5/2006 10:35:29 PM
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