Daddy's Little Princess.

[Violet]

.. to continue from the previous post.. [on prior page]..

[Violet]

.. my love, how are you?

.. I saw yesterday in your road blog that you are bunkered in Regina, but that all is on the mend. I'm glad to hear it, and hope that's even more true today, as far as this flu outbreak is concerned. As far as being "bunkered" is concerned, well maybe Regina isn't the worst spot for that. I don't know a thing about the place, except that it's the capitol of Saskatchewan. [and I only know that since I just wiki'd it] [which is also why I even know how to spell Saskatchewan]


Anyway, my problem just now is that I'm in the midst of some very serious procrastination. Yes, my mind--seeing that it may, in fact, need to learn computer code--is frantically seeking out ways to avoid that happening. This has GOT to stop.

(sigh)

.. but, last night, and for a while now, I've been looking back at poems I've posted here to see if anything is at all passable seeming. I find there are some that I still do like, and a lot that need work--or are even hopeless cases. Anyway, some day.. [though not now, that's for sure].. but some day I need to put all these works together, and be terribly ruthless with them, and see if there's anything left at the end of that process. Actually, while lying in bed early this morning [unable to sleep], I thought that once I get to that point with them.. [if there are any left, that is].. I should then have you take a look at them--and be equally ruthless with a red pen. [you can even write little helpful notes in the margin] [or even do some self portraits in which you're frowning at me]

.. then I can take the whole mess and publish it [as is, I mean] [red marks, and all] as:

Poems by Violet, Corrected by Leonard Cohen

Now, it may not make the best seller list, but I do think it might raise a few eyebrows. [there's at least that]

.. what else. Actually, I still like that last poem I wrote on this thread, and wonder if you like it at all. ["As when first I saw you not gone" is the title] I mean, like so many failed attempts of mine, I wrote it in one sitting, then posted it right away, which I know is not a good idea. Still, this one seems to be "holding," for some reason.. so, I guess I'll see in time.

.. anyway, I think I can squarely blame some of my worst poetic efforts on just how much I love you. It has caused me to want to tell you that, even before good writing, or pride, even.

This also as GOT to stop. Well, not my loving you.. (that's rather a separate topic).. but this blind urge to want to tell you that in a poem. In the future [if this tendency persists] I'll just tell you that my love for you has caused me to write you yet another love poem, but that I'm sitting on it for a while, until the good-poetry faeries come and tell me that it's okay to post. Only THEN will I post it.

(I do love you, my angel. And it hurts)

actually, speaking of that--love, I mean..

I don't know, I've been trying to put this into words for a while now.. [and so maybe I've in some manner already said this].. but I think that in writing you all this time, and in that way feeling connected to you.. it's sort of to know you "vibrationally." [as I may have already mentioned] And so, it's not about persona, in other words. But I think this is why I find myself almost shocked sometimes when I brush up against your more public persona, which is really "outside of" what gets nurtured in this little cacoon of sorts.

.. and I suppose that's what gets rather confusing for me. I mean, my psyche feels to "know" you, even as, more externally speaking, I only can know you as this persona.

.. it's funny, my therapist thinks my writing you, or even just my coming here to the forum and writing.. but she thinks it's my psyche's rather brilliant way [yes, she thinks my psyche is brilliant] but she thinks it's my psyche's rather ingenious way of saving me.

Anyway, I'm looking to see how I might forgive myself for all the time I've spent writing here. I guess I'm hoping my therapist is right, and it was somehow necessary. I mean, I'm sure it's affected my writing, and hopefully in a good way it has. But, as far as "saving" me.. I don't know. I mean, I have to now re-enter the world, I guess.. and maybe then I would know.

.. anyway, I tell you these things so that maybe you can understand better this predicament I'm in. (I guess it is a predicament) And I guess, in part, that's why I hope to speak with you some day.. since at least it's to come up from this "ocean," of sorts.. so to breath, finally. [or just have that cup of tea]

Alright, my love.

.. I will now remove myself from the horrid visitations of Hastily Written Poems Past.. and learn what I have to, to put together this website of mine. The screenplay is still percolating, but I'm not going to let that get the upper hand right now, until I see to this website business.


.. okay, my angel. I do hope you've managed to stave off the flu.. and I hope you had a good "catch-up" day yesterday.

.. I love you, and send again my tender kiss.. x

actually, this photograph.. (of a birch tree on our lake) (also from "the red scarf day").. anyway, it's the image I'm currently using as my "tiled background" at the home page of my twitter account. [yes, I've been finding more and more ways to procrastinate]

I also looked through the list of whom you yourself "follow," and I can't say I'd easily come to any firm conclusions as to who you are, just based on your twitter account. Or accounts, I should say. [I decided to follow your tour, as well] Actually, I'm now following some of the same personages you follow--including this brit actor I've never even heard of.. (whose name escapes me just now).. but whose self description is:

Actor. Writer. Strangler.

(it sort of cracked me up)

.. oh, and I was surprised to see that His Holiness the Dalai Lama is such an avid twitterer. And so, yes.. I am now officially "following" the Dalai Lama.

Oh. Right now I'm tweeting as.. [well, as I said, you're my first (and only) tweet].. but right now I'm: [blank]

but once the new website is up, I'll probably need to include the name of my website in that. It will be quite a change.. [as you shall see]

.. alright, my divine.. 'til soon.. xx x..

(I miss you)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=FVR2a4O1exs
FULL SCREEN..

[Violet]

.. my angel, how are you today? Does Regina have any good coffee shops?

--uh, make that hot chocolate. My God, it was sixteen degrees there yesterday, and all the way up to eighty degrees in L.A.???

[I guess it's not the best spot to be bunkered, after all]

[oh, this, as per your road blog, again]

Well, today you're up in the thirties supposedly, so things really are on the mend. And I continue to send you all well wishes, so that you'll be all set for Chicago.

[later note: upon taking another gander, I see that that sixteen degrees refers to today].. (sigh)



Let's see, now--oh. As part of my procrastination initiative to find poems I've written that are in some manner "holding," I came upon this one [which I never posted] from early last month:




I only remember that you love me


I only remember that you love me,

(even as I only seem to see you

go)


Do you mean to say I should leave?

not leave?

that you’ll be here soon?

that you won’t ever return?


Tell me

like a shimmering

light



x



Well, it's dark today, my love, and rainy. The chickens are out, though. Actually, on the chicken front

well, first:


The Chicken that Could

Yes, they had a difficult mid-winter this year, as they were "moulting." [yeah.. losing their pretty russet-colored feathers] And Margery had it the worst. She lost so much in the tail area that it was rather sore looking, and

okay. This part brings up the dark side of chickenhood.

[yes, I'm afraid there is a dark side, even with chickens]

In any case, for the most part, the chickens exist rather contentedly together. Yes, they both rush in for the apple [as I crush it beneath my foot], and in that, Auntie Em has for a long time been at the top of the "pecking order".. [appropriately called].. and so, would

okay, she can be something of a hog, sometimes. [just because she can]

oh--so, when Margery was sore feeling.. well, Auntie Em started pecking at her sore tail, causing it to bleed (!!)

yeah.. chickens will do that. If one is sick, or is weakened in some way, the rest will start pecking at it--and even kill the poor injured one.

(sigh)

(of course, I did have some rather earnest good-night talks with Auntie Em about this development.. but

anyway, it's recommended you put some sort of pine sap or something on an open wound in order to close it up, so to prevent this behavior from occurring. But as I didn't have any, I instead started putting some tea tree oil on it, which is both healing and has such a powerful smell that even Auntie Em, I thought, would probably have to back off. Well, it did the trick!

not only that

well, first: Margery has, from the very start, been suffering from the "ugly duckling" syndrome. She was the smallest, and so probably the youngest. And she always got the short end of the stick. Even her feathers looked rather dull, as compared with the strawberry blonde of poor pretty Dorothy.. [the one who died in my arms].. or the very deep russet color of Auntie Em.

but now that Margery's feathers have grown in, and she's also finished growing.. she's actually larger, and more beautiful.. [with the color of her feathers having deepened] But, yes, she's even more beautiful than bossy-boots Auntie Em. And she doesn't take any flack from her anymore, either.

So, that's the happy ending part. The ugly duckling is now the beautiful swan. [only nicer, as I believe swans can be pretty nasty].. [as I recall]

Oh, and she's laying more eggs than Auntie Em now, too. Although, in Auntie Em's defense, she still lays the largest eggs. [you should see the size of some of them..

[my God]

with her you just need to have scrambled "egg" for breakfast. Or bacon and "egg."

[yeah, her eggs are that large]


Alright, my love.. I guess I have to get back to this website conundrum. I have made contact with that computer dude in New Zealand, so hopefully we'll be chatting soon, which hopefully will help.

Yesterday, I did ride around our lake, and at the "Ophelia section".. [where the brook is, at the bottom of the lake].. well, it was there that I had a new idea for my screenplay, and so things really are "percolating" in that respect.

.. anyway, I miss you, my darling. Keep warm.. and here's my warm and tender kiss.. x

[youtube way, let me see what I might find for you that could lift the spirits somewhat..

.. (this one has a way of doing that, actually

(imagine that?).. (xx x..

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=qoLmmbpbpMs
FULL SCREEN..

[Violet]

.. my love, have you seen this music video?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=QWtsV50_-p4
FULL SCREEN..

.. I'm quite liking this new album so far, what I've heard of it. The artist who did this video I'm not a fan of, actually.. and yet here I don't mind the effect he's known for using. It works somehow with the song.. (and their rather sad, worn out faces)

.. alright, my angel.. I guess it's the rain.. (.. I want to shower you in kisses, my love.. x. x xx..x

(and I want to wrap you up with me in just the softest blanket)

oh, and I have all my fingers crossed, and all manner of wood knocked, and am even throwing the salt over both shoulders.. (just in case).. that you will all be set for your flight to Chicago.


.. meantime, here's more of these "hand" pics. I wanted to have them smaller, but I seem to have no control over the size of these pics, once I go to post them.. [later note: I think I just succeeded in that] [uploading them smaller, I mean].. [actually, is it just me.. or is there something rather.. uh.. "suggestive" about these?

(it's probably just me)

[Violet]

.. my angel, I'm just so distracted with thinking of you.. (as I try to read this tedious tedious stuff)

.. anyway, I'm glad to see you landed safely in Chicago, and hopefully with one more good night's sleep, all will be well for tomorrow night.

okay.. this tender kiss towards that, then.. x.. (and a nice sexy, dreamy song..

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CxYRbzGi8Rg
FULL SCREEN..

.. (as for these pics.. is it just me? or..

[Violet]

.. how are you today, my love?

.. I'm hoping that no news is good news as to tonight's performance. (and I do have my fingers crossed) (I know it must be quite a challenge for those taken ill to recover from a serious case of the flu on a fixed schedule)

Alright. Actually, I’m never quite sure whether to go with the “break a leg” theory of wishing one luck.. or the opposite.

.. so.. just know I’m here, sending you all my good wishes and thoughts and prayers that all is well, and that all goes wonderfully tonight.

.. and I send, too, my tender kiss.. x

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=7qZB4adZAf8
FULL SCREEN..

[Violet]

.. my angel, how are you?

I'm assuming relieved, and happy to be back on tour, although there's no coverage available yet. Or at least in these parts.

Out here it may as well BE the windy city. My God.. a fierce wind has been blowing over this mountain since the very early morning. I don't like this, as that's when power lines go down. But so far, so good, my love.. (my angel)


Well, since there's no coverage yet, let's talk about me.

(!)

I just wanted to mention that I think I was being rather harsh on myself before. About my poems, I mean. I mean, I have found quite a few that I still like. Some of them maybe need a few edits here and there.. but, still. They weren’t bad, I don’t think.

.. so, I’m thinking that maybe the book’s title could be changed somewhat, in light of this realization. Yes, it should be more like:

Poems by Violet, with Corrections—or, no, Suggestions by Leonard Cohen

or, no, maybe the second part shouldn’t be such a “harsh” color, so more like:

Poems by Violet, with Corrections—or, no, Suggestions by Leonard Cohen

[more of a red wine color, in other words]

.. oh, and with your self portraits, maybe instead of your frowning at me, you could have more of a.. um.. “bewildered" expression]

(which is not hard for me to imagine) (in relation to me, I mean)

(actually, a self portrait of you frowning at me is pretty easy for me to imagine too)

(I love you, my angel)

[edit: I cleaned up this section a bit]


.. what else. Oh. Here are two examples of poems of mine that might make it into the book. The first is the version of a poem for which I posted an "outtake" version on this thread not too long ago. In any case, I just came upon the original version of it, and I believe it has possibilities. [this is where your comments might come in, my love] Sometimes the problem for me is about spacing, since it's very "subjective".. and

well, once a poster here called a poem of mine "a smattering of words".. .. so that would be an example of it "not working." However, I think that when I get it "right".. [whatever that is].. then it's working for--well, for most readers, I hope.

Anyway.. see what you think about this one (from a few years ago):

(oh, and I'm starting a new desktop folder called: Acceptable Poems by Violet, so these two will go in that new file):



Not even the rain

(thinking of you
while remembering a line by e.e. cummings:
.. "nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands")


I looked as I remembered to,

and
never found the poem.

who quoted it, I wonder?

what
line was it?

small, incredibly
small
were the hands
of the

beloved,

as now
in my love’s eyes, such
small hands
have I

folding unfolding
Spring’s secret scent of rose,
with hands as sweet and
nearly closed, enclosed in his –– but

nothing

not even the rain
(in the pantry, on the
windowpanes)

as
all of me
he pressed
against
and I dissolved
not
even small
to

nothingness


Okay, the second poem I wrote a whole decade ago, two years after my father's death.. (which meant I had no parents, then).. (fortunately, I've not had dreams like those referred to in this poem for a long time, now)

.. anyway, I may have to think more about the spacing, but I feel it to be a rather strong poem of mine overall. (actually, the last one I'm rather liking right now, too)




To my longing for you both


I’m thinking of those kindnesses
that come as small Trojan Horses; the
deception itself a testament to
that which needed rerouting;
suppressing

if there were no wounded here,
if all that was spoken were true,
then there’d be no need for any of this
and the dead would rest easy

I long for you. I long for you
both. in dreams I

fall deeply
into a timeless enmeshment

all wounds emerging
to recombine in a fervent
wished for healing;
a deep deep suffering;
an oceanic grieving

I awake sometimes, at
the sound of my own
crying

lying quietly,
in a dismal after dream.

in a moment, I might
fall asleep again

too soon for
conscious reflection

or to save myself
from the drowning

where again
the heart’s dark bodies
reabsorb each other’s
grief.

ii.

Sun comes on summer days,
wind in the early spring,
time, the insightful say,
doesn’t heal all wounds

this
I dedicate to my longing, to my
longing for you both.



.. alright, my love. Oh, I sent material for my site to this New Zealand computer dude, so maybe he will actually be building the site for me. I'll see. He'll at least point me in the right direction.

I should say that it's rather easy to set up a site these days--IF you're not too picky about the style of it. Or, if you use existing "templates," they're called. But if you're like me, and you have rather specific ideas about things.. well.. then you're really in a quandary. So.. (in my defense, in other words)

.. okay. I look forward to hearing more about the show last night. Oh. Are you going to be mayor of Milwaukee??? Is that what I'm hearing?

(I wouldn't think you'd have the time.. but

Oh! Congrats also on the Juno award nominations. And I agree with some here who say they might have added best album to those nominations. [as it's surely that wonderful].. [oh, and with your son being nominated, too.. that sounds like a very happy family in that]


.. okay. My love to you, my angel.. and my tender kiss.. x

(actually, this song has been on my mind.. [I've been singing again, hoping that the spring will inspire me to get going on that side of things].. but, yeah, to go with those self portraits of you frowning at me, we can add my doing this number.. (actually, since she goes all over the place with this song, I find myself doing my own original interpretation of it--I think just trying to remember what hers was).. (xx x..

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hpIJN5NF_Es
FULL SCREEN..

(I miss you, my love..

[ragsandbones]

If I may, Dear Karren B:
A friendly comment on your poetry:

beyond the images you visit
is the one that is implicit:

Daddy standing over her
in grief for which there is no cure

And standing over daddy there's
a pointed finger in the air;

For what its worth dear Karren B
I submit to you humbly

That things are seldom ever quite
that simple, that black and white.

Perhaps poetry (if I may mention)
is better sans a moral lesson.

your story stands on its own
let the reader throw the stone.

[Violet]

Hey, R&B.

Karren B. may not see your little message to her, as she's not been around in a while. [if you're peeking in, kissy, I hope all is well].. [xx..


.. my angel, how are you today?

.. it's a bit strange around here with Arlene's passing. She seemed so active, and I didn't know of her illness, and so it really is quite a shock.

[later note: I wrote something on the thread for her, but.. well she will surely be missed, and my thoughts again are with her family at this time]


oh. [it's hard to transition here.. but

Did you re-tweet me yesterday, my angel??

Either you, or your retweeting assistant over at twitter retweeted me yesterday (!)

(I can't believe I even know what that is)

(I even used a "hashtag" in my tweet).. (my second tweet, that is)

Now, to those of you who remain un-twitified, my tweet had to do with my version of a "Cohen Cake".. [which someone else had brought up] [he had a picture and everything].. but my version I imagined to be smooth and chocolatie, and a thousand layers deep.

(I was pretty pleased with that myself)

Maybe that's my special calling, my angel. I could be a professional twitterer. Albert Brooks claims that once inside he can't get out of twitter. I know what he means. It's quite a maze in there. I've actually been catching up on all the Pope news through twitter. Oh, cuz I really don't watch the news anymore. I really don't.

Actually, I just read of your lament, my love [during the Chicago show] that you didn't make Pope this time around. But, I mean, you are being made mayor of Milwaukee. (one can't have everything in life)

Good luck with that today, by the way. Oh, and when they hand you the keys to the city--don't forget where you put them. (that could become another one of those "I don't remember what" items).. (that you sometimes sing about).. (though not lately, I'm noticing)

Yes, when one is handed the keys to a prominent city.. (or even a not-so-prominent city).. one should, at the very least, remember where he or she has put them.



On the other hand.. (as certain Popes have shown).. there's probably a lot of stuff that a Pope might just as well forget. [and hope that everyone else does too]

[I'm just saying]

.. what else.

I love you, my angel. Oh, and it sounds like all went well in Chicago, although someone here mentioned that that menacing flu is still clinging to some of you. I do hope that's all over with soon.

Well, have a great time in Milwaukee, my love. And I send my extra special "Leonard Cohen Day" kiss.. x.. (which you can keep in your pocket, along with those keys.. xx x..

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=tEWJsYDdW_E
FULL SCREEN..

[ragsandbones]

Karren B. may not see your little message to her, as she's not been around in a while. [if you're peeking in, kissy, I hope all is well].. [xx..

Thanks for letting me know Violet.

[Violet]

Yes, R&B. It's sad that she's not around these days. I miss her. You'd no doubt like her, too.


Leonard, my love.. how are you? The picture of you on your road blog is quite moving. And things remain rather sad feeling around here. The picture below I remember finding on Arlene's site. I believe it was a gift to her from Eija. [I hope it's alright that I'm posting it here now]

.. I thought I'd post a poem of mine I came upon, as I've been digging around here, still. I believe Cate had presented a challenge to write a poem using its title, and so that's what inspired it. I edited it some just this morning, hopefully to good effect.

I remember when I was just a child of ten, I think it was, I entered a drawing contest that was really for someone older. I remember getting the test back in the mail with the reviewer's comments written on it, with one comment being: "delicate rendering."

but that seemed to stay with me as maybe a part of myself that I needed to preserve somehow. Of course, there is good writing, and not-so-good writing, regardless of one's subject or approach. But, I'm hoping some of these poems will survive my present "wrath".. since maybe there's something to them. [I honestly don't know]

.. well, my warmth and love goes out to you, my love. I know in Arlene's passing you lost a real friend.. x




I can’t console the crying bird


she’s lost inside

her wounded wing,
a song
not yet a song.

though
in your eyes
I felt her
once; she stirred there
all aflutter

love’s loss and promise;
love’s telling of
itself

(its broken wing, broken
of love's
winged dream)


so sing me
all aflutter

take me
now,
love’s arms

for even without words,
it's love that does console
the crying bird


x

[Violet]

.. my angel, I love you. And I miss you. How are you?

.. well, it's looking like Milwaukee is the place for good reviewership. [who'd a thunk it?]

.. let me see..

well, of course, I'm quite liking this bit from John M. Gilbertson of the Journal Sentinel:

"… [Cohen] was, and is, a kind of Cole Porter for the rock 'n' roll era, with a similar combination of bright
desolation and gallows wit. He also had musicians who probably could've found regular employment in
Porter's time."

My angel, didn't I tell you you could do with a few Cole Porter numbers?? Didn't I???

[who's that comedian: I don't get no respe--oh, Rodney Dangerfield] [forgot, for a minute]

.. oh, and from that "fedorable" review by John Sieger, as per OnMilwaukee.com:

"If Leonard Cohen didn't exist, David Lynch would have to invent him."

That's sort of great. [sort of] I mean, I'd hate to think he was implying you were "the Frank Booth of song."

.. but, no. That's not quite what he meant.. [at least I don't think it is]:

"In a performance with his stellar nine-piece band that was a mystifying mixture of "Blue Velvet" and dialog with
that other poet of song, Bob Dylan, Cohen delivered an evening that moved a capacity audience from the first
song to the last. It didn't hurt that the first song was "Dance Me to the End of Time," his meditation on love (his
most common topic) and the Holocaust."

Dance Me to the End of Time

Not bad. [maybe you should tweet him for some more song title ideas]

[I'll get on that right away myself, my angel].. [see what I can do]

Oh, and it seems [according to Sieger] that you "converted" him into a "follower." [actually, maybe you should check your twitter account].. [just to make sure]

[sorry]

.. but, yes [Sieger states]:

"My conversion began on the first number and I was ready to testify by the time he finished the stunning early career
number "Bird On A Wire." Had there been a call to the stage, I would have been ready by the time he was through
with "Everybody Knows," and if he had been recruiting martyrs for his world crusade, the stunning recitation of his
poem (you read that right, poem), "A Thousand Kisses Deep," would have sent me to boot camp."

So, yes, you took [what he claimed] was a "lukewarm" fan, and converted him into "something close to red hot."

[yes, but only "close to" red hot] [I mean, this is Milwaukee, after all].. [besides, you still have New Orleans to do]

.. now the following quote refers to what Sieger felt to be obligatory middle-brow stuff for the kind of show that attracts a certain [older, I believe he means] "demographic." And yet, his description itself is anything but "obligatory":

"… an elegant set with curtains dropping like the aurora borealis from the heavens and changing colors just as often,
the band and the man in tasteful black or charcoal grey suits and every touch of production, from sound to the obligatory
curtsying guitar techs, doing their jobs."

.. hmm.. I had no idea all that was so "ho-hum."

[honestly, I don't get out that much, but I have a feeling this writer is suffering here from premature fedorabation].. [that's where you gush before you meant to--or, no, is that the one where the man turns his wife into a fedora?] [I mean, before she gets a chance to

[talk about a "dangler"]

[I hope I don't get censored for that]

[additional references: see my "red hot" scarf/hand photos] [earlier on this page]

[that could explain some things]


.. anyway, my angel. Good work. And, I mean, he didn't even mention the mayor of Milwaukee part. Or the fact that you didn't even forget where you put the key to the city, thanks to the sound advice offered to you by this one, very conscientious--oh, and "fedoring"

[actually, that's reminding me of that Woody Allen bit: I "luff" you, I "fedore" you].. [I really do, my angel]


.. alright, my darling. My love. [I obviously do agree that you are "fedorable"] [the man got that one right] And I send you my good luck kiss for the next show.. in..

[let me check]

oh, Tampa! Actually, I have no idea what the forecast is for Tampa, but in Cupertino [I'm noticing] it's going up to the high sixties tomorrow.. so

.. okay.. my tender kiss to you, my love.. x.. (and much much more.. xx x..

actually, speaking of

.. [I'd like to play this one more time..

(oh, and you should know that this is another number I'd like to sing especially for you).. (xx x..

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=njzqv5gWt6k
FULL SCREEN..

(gosh, this Milwaukee Sieger dude even draws (!)

[Violet]

.. how are you, my love?

.. I awoke early, after a "fitful" night, feeling rather strange.

.. so, it's one of those days when I'm not quite myself.

I'm also rather upset, given this person I thought was going to give me a hand with my website seems to have disappeared. [you know, the New Zealand guy]

It's an odd time for me all around. Things like that keep happening.

Anyway, I feel rather stuck at present. I realize it means I have to try and fight harder to move things forward.. so

no use complaining, I guess. Still, it's hard sometimes, my love.


Well, I finally did get out to our lake yesterday. It's been quite a few days, as the weather has been lousy. I should force myself out again today, as it does me good.

.. anyway, I wound up taking photos of the birch trees that are right near our Tibetan bell. I think it's good sometimes to give yourself a subject, so maybe I'll focus on birches just now. I'll see. I've read somewhere that they grow in clusters since each cluster is really the same tree, given they share their roots.

actually, before I started photographing the birches, I stared at our bell for a while. It was still, though not entirely. But it was silent.

.. only, as I started photographing the birches, suddenly the bell started chiming. (!)


You know the picture of you on your road blog has been on my mind. You are looking just so sad. And it has me wanting to give you a very big hug.

also.. well, it's true that writing you is this "test" for me. Because if I think of things in the wrong way, it can have me feeling quite sad not to be with you. But, you know, my angel, I have been with you. And I am with you..

.. and maybe some day we will have that cup of tea.

Have a glorious time tonight in Tampa. (oh, and I thought of this film, given it contains a sequence that takes place inside this beautiful birch tree forest. I couldn't find that, but the sequence I have here instead I've always found to be especially moving. I feel to implicitly understand it.

.. I send it to you with my love.. x

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=6g3iS1hUrkU
FULL SCREEN..

[Violet]

.. well, from what I've seen so far, my angel, you had a wonderful time last night (!) .. (.. x

I'm only stopping in just now--gosh, such snow again [I'm noticing out my window]. All week there have been flurries. Oh. I did hear from my New Zealand friend finally. He is "fascinated" by what I wrote for my site so far. I sent him such material, since it has pictures, and layout, etc., and I wanted him to get an idea as to how I'd like the site to look. [I wasn't really focusing on his "getting into" the content part]

.. so. He's going to get back to me.

Also. I came upon these poems, which I posted here some years ago now. [it seems I was merging in some way with Ophelia in these] The two poems I had put together. In any case, after some edits--actually, the first one needed serious "amputations." [what a horror show that was] But, maybe it's working now. [I hope]

I love you, my angel. And I hope the sad ending here can be remedied somehow. (I hope to kiss you, instead.. x



No one opens me like you do


no one
opens me like you do (this

wounded heart)

(this opening of its

wound)



your flesh in me
swells

rivers;

your tongue,

(this hurt)

how
hard this heart; this

flesh,

this want,

(no other)


2.


How deeply goes this longing


How deeply goes this longing.

I fear to never emerge
from it.

my mind is seated here,

(where lies this body’s
deepest

grieving)


gently, I touch the

wound

(weeping as I do this)

for only you have entered
here

(my love)

(my deepest grief)


Drowned now; this

quiet forest all
around me

where sadly shall I sing:

such
loss of you, such

never having
you

so sadly,

for
never knowing me; never

kissing these
eyes

in winter, nor having
wet this love with

spring,

when once
perfectly came your

melody (its

thoughts of you
inside me)

such quiet,

such happy solitude

for sweetly
did I lie

(a distant
smile so close as God’s near
inkling of new life)


my heart is swimming
now (remembering too its

listening for these waters

where I die)


for

all is sung, but
sadly,

alone this forest grieves:

not all souls

shall meet



x

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=b4R2-GlBd-c
FULL SCREEN..

[Violet]

.. where are you now?.. Miami?

.. [..].. [just checking]

Miami.

.. okay, the first thing that sprung to mind.. [after years and years of re-runs]..

[actually, there should be a camera shot that's racing across the waters..

.. with the narrator saying: Live, from Miami Beach..

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Nx_CudCLnD8
FULL SCREEN.. [not necessary]

I never knew that was called "Melancholy Serenade."

(that seems appropriate, somehow)

.. how are you, my angel?.. [I see it's in the eighties in Miami, which is quite a switch from up north]

.. as for here, some sun finally showed up yesterday, only I missed it. By the time I got out on my bike it was hailing so hard--a white hail, half snow.. but it was hurting my face it was coming down so hard (!) I turned around.. only, then it stopped. And I turned around again, and continued to the first lake.. [since it had gotten late and I didn't want to have to return from our lake in darkness]

(I miss you so much, my angel).. (just so much)

Anyway, I wound up at the first brook, again. It feeds the first lake. It was snowing, and in some shots I took it does seem I captured "a winter wonderland" effect.

.. I also lay in the snow by the brook (trying to get certain angles on things). Water is so strange to photograph. It can seem slate grey and solid.. or alive, and moving, depending on the light.

.. in this low light, with the flash shut off, I was able to capture the drag on the snowflakes, even. It's funny what one becomes aware of with a camera.

but also, there's "myself in my body." "Myself in the wood."

[perhaps, like some distant legend of some kind, I'll turn into a tree]

[a weeping willow, I should think]

.. actually, that's reminding me of another "Ophelia poem" of mine. Only, maybe I'll save that one for later.

here's one I thought you might especially like (which I also posted here a few years ago--oh, but first:

I wish you a wonderful time tonight in Miami. [maybe do a token golf swing on your Tower of Song number for Jackie] [he'd appreciate that]

.. and I send again my tender kiss.. x.. (and just everything, my angel)


Let but life be soiled

.. (not these blackened
pages)


If I could
die

of poetry, I’d not
fear death.

If I could kiss
of poetry

I’d not want for
your kisses.


…..lose…now…..all

…. swans..float...by

this

the blackest river

(ink and dye)


………lovers.. dream

…forgotten
instruments

lean


x


.. (the last pic here, shot from between my legs).. ("the falls between my legs")