Blur Comments
Storms of perfume lift from honeysuckle,
lilac, clover—and drift across the threshold,
outside reclaiming inside as its home.
Warm days whirl in a bright unnumberable blur,
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The oldest man in the holy book.... Thanks for posting...👍
For the first time in my life I stepped inside a boy's mind. Incredible experience. The power of this man's pen rivals the great literary giants throughout time. Tell me. there are more of his poems out there
The experience is not similar for girls? I assumed the driving force of what is described is innocence and exuberance, nothing gender specific. A zest for life undiminished by analysis and logic. Learning about life and about the world through experience, through sheer, inexhaustible acceptance and motion. Except, in the end, of the day, or inevitably life, exhaustion cannot be evaded. Is it the sense of the mindless attack, the living to the limits of one's energy, that you find specific to a boy? Or the fierceness? They may serve to qualify the gender identification, but I think they are mere mentions within the greater compass of the poem. Or maybe it's just because I've always been fond of tomboys.
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7/30/2025 3:32:55 PM # 1.0.0
Each day its own millennium. I remember that frame of time in the structure of my life, when the far edge of summer sailed beyond the horizon of my understanding of time. It simply spins, It doesn't need my feet to turn it... The gradual appearance of comprehension, first of my own existence, then the reality that my existence is not, after all, the center of purpose of the universe, but in actuality a minute, inconsequential side-effect. Profoundly and strikingly expressed here. We are our own uncomprehending mourners... This piece concludes like life itself, somewhat abruptly, not wholly satisfying, a hint of what was unlived, and yet, a continuing progression in which our existence was only a small fragment of the whole.