Alyssa Holmes, Amanda Reilly Sayer, Anupriya Kumari, Friends, God(s), Jane Paterson Basil, Love, Lovers, Marysa, New Love, Outstanding Bloggers, People, Poetry, Relationships, Romantic Love, Shreya Vikram, Terese, Teresums

A Flock of Sparrows for Majel: No Returns on Lost Hearts

A Flock of Sparrows for Majel

(About a 3 minute read)

I beseech thee! I, a wretched beggar, beseech thee!
In the hour of Marissa’s crisis, in the hour of her darkness,
I beseech thee! I beseech You whose lowly latrine
Is not only infinitely above me, but is thoughtfully plumbed
To drain into my life.

You who are sacred, holy, and divine
You who are the Twisted Circus Clowns Above Us All
Have mercy upon my friend Marissa,
Have mercy on her, you Clowns!
For Marissa has lost her heart, her only heart —

And tragically, her heart has been found by mine.

They won’t, Marissa. They won’t help you at all.

Trust me, I know the Clowns,
I’ve seen them with my own wisdom.
It’s always good to pray in times of crisis
But the Clowns won’t answer prayers.
I do it for tradition, Marissa.
My prayers for you are just formalities.
I only pray for the sake of tradition.

Continue reading “A Flock of Sparrows for Majel: No Returns on Lost Hearts”

Agape, Alyssa Holmes, Anupriya Kumari, Authenticity, Being True To Yourself, Death, Eudaimonia, Friends, Human Nature, Jane Paterson Basil, Life, Living, Love, Lovers, Marysa, Muses, Nature, Passion, Philos, Poetry, Quality of Life, Relationships, Resilience, Self-Flourishing, Shreya Vikram, Terese, Teresums, The Art of Living Well, Unconditional Love, Well Being

I Will Sing Songs to the Ice

(About a 3 minute read)

i.

Something huge fell against my door last night.
Something crashed the silence of the night.

When I was calm enough to look through my window
I saw a tired stag with a broken leg
Struggling to rise.

It failed at first, but then, with horrendous effort,
At last gained its feet.

Last night I saw a tired stag with a broken leg
Slowly cross my yard, pausing every few feet,
Perhaps to ease the pain.

The fur on its back was tuffed up and disturbed
Like the stag had been pounced on and in a fight.

Last night I saw a tired stag with a broken leg.
Last night I saw a tired stag with a broken leg.
Last night I saw a tired stag.

ii.

You are comely and beautiful.
Your still-satin skin glows
In the grace of youth.

You are comely and beautiful.
Your life opens towards the future
Like petals spreading in the morning sun.

You are comely and beautiful.
Your mind roars over the rocks
Like a crystal cold mountain stream.

You are comely and beautiful.
Your heart yearns for the heights of love
Like an eagle for the sky.

You are comely and beautiful.
Your still-satin skin covers sleek muscles
Covers sleek muscles and unbroken bones.

You are comely and beautiful.
I watch you as you take my breath away.

iii.

Tonight, I can hear the cracking of the ice
Beneath my feet.

Tonight, I can hear the cracking of the ice.

My winter is half run.
At 62, my winter is half run
And my life now thaws
Into your spring.
Rushes over boulders into your spring.

I have loved you more purely and more passionately
Than you in your youth might know.

I have loved you with eyes that see well beyond yours.
I have loved you until my heart
Has broken and been reborn.

Tonight, I can hear the cracking of the ice.
Tonight, I can hear the cracking of the ice
Beneath my feet.

So tonight, I will sing songs to the spring.

“You can fly higher, my love,
You can fly further than you think.

“You can fly higher, my love,
You can fly more beautifully than you think.

“You can fly higher, my love,
You can fly to intimacy with the sky.”

Tonight, I can hear the cracking of the ice
Beneath my feet.

And so tonight, I will put on heavy skins
And sing songs to the ice
Before my fall.

Tonight, I will sing songs to the ice,
And I will put on heavy skins.


Curious readers might want to check out Sharon’s poem, Struggles on the Ground.  It strikes me as having themes related to this poem’s themes.

Adolescent Sexuality, Bad Ideas, Cultural Traits, Culture, Erotic Love, Ethics, Free Spirit, From Around the Net, Fun, Horniness, Human Nature, Jane Paterson Basil, Judgementalism, Learning, Life, Living, Love, Morality, Morals, New Love, Play, Seduction, Self, Self Identity, Self Image, Self-determination, Self-Flourishing, Self-Knowledge, Sex, Sexuality, Sexualization, Society, Stolen From The Blogosphere, Village Idiots

The Feral Sexuality of Teenage Girls

(About a 6 minute read)

It is easy to fall for the cliché that ours is the most sexually liberated age in history.  It might be actually closer to the truth if we were to think of ourselves as among the most sexually complicated ages in history.

Continue reading “The Feral Sexuality of Teenage Girls”

Art, Blog Awards, Blundering Criticisms, Critiques, From Around the Net, Gifts for Comments, Jane Paterson Basil, Poetry

I Need Your Help With a Housewarming Party!

I need your help to hold a housewarming party for Jane Basil at her new blog.  The door prize for helping out is a 30 USD shopping trip on Amazon.

If I came across a Jane Basil poem published in the Oxford Companion to English Poetry, I would not think it out of place.

Skeptical?  Go and read Promises!  Read just that one Basil poem.  Then tell me whether you concur with me.  Your call, but please don’t make your call until at least you have read Promises.

Continue reading “I Need Your Help With a Housewarming Party!”

Authenticity, Being True To Yourself, Carla, Honesty, Human Nature, Jane Paterson Basil, Life, Loneliness, Mark Ryan, Outstanding Bloggers, People, Poetry, Truth

A Flock of Sparrows for Majel: The Lonely People Who Confess Their Honest Truths

A Flock of Sparrows for Majel

Majel, have you noticed how lonely Anaïs feels this morning?
Only an hour ago in 1936 I heard her weep, I heard her cry,
“I have just spat out my heart”.

Continue reading “A Flock of Sparrows for Majel: The Lonely People Who Confess Their Honest Truths”

Community, Cultural Traits, Culture, Family, Friends, Jane Paterson Basil, Life, Outstanding Bloggers, People, Poetry, Quality of Life, Society, Terese

The Currency of Community

(About a 2 minute read)

“Rihanna. I love her music, her style,
Just love her.”

One million or two? How many times today
Have I heard you praise one celeb or another?

Seems curious to me how the down to earth
Billionaires wear T-shirts, jeans, and sandals
To the office; how everyday became causal Friday;
How no one speaks more than two syllables
If they can help it, and none of us any longer
Are pretentious enough to learn the sciences,
But for all our down to earthiness, our hearts
Belong to the celebs, and only the celebs.

In the evening I once again tell you I love you,
But you only turn from your screen
When you want to say Johnny Depp
Has a new movie out that we must see.

Who lives next door to us now that Cheryl died
Do you remember? I never met her myself
More than to be surprised her voice was ice
When once I said “Hello”. I’ve fled from her,
And from you, to the blogs where my heart
Is still a bit malnourished by the distances.

But there I’ve found lives lived in immediacy
To the realities of mine. Terese is as gentle
As I try to be. Kat is as smart as I aspire.
Jane is like me a poet who tackles
Her life as it is. Riali’s kind and supportive,
Mark is brilliant as gold dust,
And most of the others have more than one thing
To recommend them to me.

You speak of Rihanna and Depp,
And others who are cocooned by wealth and staffs,
Who might as well live above us
On a station circling the earth.
Why are you so fascinated with lives
So unlike yours? It seems to me you’re chasing
Some dream of someday living among them,
But you’ve paying for that dream
In the currency of community.

Abuse, Anger, Attachment, Bad Ideas, Emotions, Jane Paterson Basil, Quality of Life, Relationships, Self, Self Image, Violence

Poetry Critique: “Weapons of Feathers”, by Jane

(About an 11 minute read)

As I see it, a good poem above all else employs words to evoke an emotional response from its audience, regardless of whether its message is trivial or profound, true or false, or even exists at all.  But a great poem goes beyond that, much beyond that, to reveal a truth — and often in a way that is so fresh and striking, the impact of the revelation is multiplied many fold.

Jane’s poem, “Weapons of Feathers, so decisively achieves the first goal of evoking emotions that to spend much time examining the fact would be like pondering whether or not an approaching hurricane could be properly called a “storm”. There is little need here to go into the matter.

But does the poem reveal a truth?  And if so, does it do it in a fresh and striking way?  Those are the questions I will address here.

Continue reading “Poetry Critique: “Weapons of Feathers”, by Jane”