I
In winter Maiden Memory
cannot recall the names
of frozen things. She tries
...
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Long memory is smt like stones. Smt I think: we humans are all created alike - almost the same speed of thinking, imaginations, memory capacity. And it is so dull in general. Gray mass you know. A drug is a prayer. But few try it and few use it, A wink!
That gray mass is probably the ordinary human life, safe, unadventurous, not given to quests. That's the life my father lived; he did not even try to stretch beyond its narrow confines. But to his credit he saw Mary and I needed something more and he supported us without understanding why we felt this need.
I am haunted by the edges of space and the curves of time. - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -Do you ever look at a line of poetry and say to yourself- -That is perfect? Well, I just did and indeed, it is perfect! Daniel, that is what happens to the real poets they can up with these lines and look at them with astonishment! ! ! Love it, love it, love it! ! !
Yes, Susan, some poems have that one magical that makes us feel purified and lifted out of normal selves. I love the closing of Hart Crane's VOYAGES II: Bequeath us to no earthly shore until Is answered in the vortex of our grave The seal's wide spindrift gaze toward paradise Astonishing indeed! ! .