we ponder vastness
here suddenly again
you are crushing
poetry is sacrametal wine
( dank uw haartlijk wel schaatje)
Thank you. But did’ja have to post that photo?! Oy vey! 😱
…how wonderful!!! rivers are running down my cheeks from having just read this! and yes! that photo of you speaks to something kind, honest & truthful i had lost! it reminds me of Rodin’s Mahler! you are not just a very beautiful woman, you are more…this photo of you expresses…. hmm.. Shekinah in all her glorious beauty!
no! that pix of you teaches me that Tifereth is ultimately not a dream but an awesome truth! if i was a Michelangelo or a Rodin I would carve your face onto time itself! your beauty is that which Dostojevski hinted when he wrote these profound words, ‘Beauty will save the world.’ to this poet maudit u r that! 🙂
sorry if my texts are disconnected! i am moving! what i want u to know ia i have now integrated my love 4 u! if u want me to delete personal references to my blog. ask! zoals uw wilt scgaatje!
Good evening, Mark. Yes – please do not post any additional photos – but know that your words are beautiful. I only wish that your perception of me was true. While reading, I find myself singing: You say Shekinah, and I say Shequinoa…Shekinah, Shequinoa, Tomato, Tomahto…!
Did you ever read Jerzy Kosinski’s “Being There?” Or, did you see the movie? Well, I’ve coined a diagnosis called, Chancey Gardineritis. Lots of people contract this virus; in fact, probably everyone at one time or another. The main symptom is that one projects something onto someone (who’s either quiet, shy or not around) that bears little resemblance to that person in reality. Me thinks that this might apply to you. ;-D
On a different note, your daughters must be physically present. Your Father’s Day poem to them will surely be treasured.
wow! amazing…that across what? 40 years i find only deep wisdom in these words of yours…u gracefulness is crushing my cynicism into a beautiful wine…thank u not only forgive but choose to over-come natural fear…& actually engage in this conversation…well! if u could see me just now i rivers of joy ate staining my cheeks! you are indeed my muse of muses and mor(ley) my beloved emBeth! be clear dearest, i am not a sentimental fool! nor mentally disfunctional! it has taken me 40 years to understand why i ran away from you! what happened that night even though we were both drunk was holy. i send u a mature kiss of holy fire! la sagesse c’est la femme. – victor hugo. c’est toi ma belle etoile!
emBeth: projection is a part of the human condition that afflicts those who do not have bi-focal vision. doing the process of doing deep interior work i too recovered my memories of our danse! the ego is a pathetic thing & one american narcissism pampers to the detriment of the heath of our planey! if i choose to celebrate all my memories of all the traits – your beauty – that once allured me into bed with you as an enlightened artistic soul that is not projection but truth! a muse need not be a lover! dante never slept with beatrice nor don quixote with dolorsa! did u never read german hesse, siddartha, narcissus & goldman, damien, etc. when we were teeners in my part of the world hesse was mandatory reading along with camus & sartre! i still sense that intoxicating beauty in your image even if has yet to blossom into a rose of sharon! if i were rodin i would cast you in bronze! :-). hope to talk sometime! we have walked very different paths since Hedrick Hall! ❤
Oops – should be Chauncey with a “u.”
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