tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880716367641540716.post5532946131846678651..comments2023-06-17T04:09:19.944-05:00Comments on Bird in a Box: Papir iz dokh vaysMiss Janehttp://www.blogger.com/profile/13659603837343456631noreply@blogger.comBlogger9125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880716367641540716.post-10428714090954428882011-07-09T21:11:40.527-05:002011-07-09T21:11:40.527-05:00And I from my own box, as well.
You are most heart...And I from my own box, as well.<br />You are most heartily forgiven, Erin, since that picture IS partially me, or a persona I occasionally adopt.Miss Janehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13659603837343456631noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880716367641540716.post-35711279185809637352011-07-09T16:13:48.661-05:002011-07-09T16:13:48.661-05:00jane, i answer blushedly, yes. blushedly and path...jane, i answer blushedly, yes. blushedly and pathetically. sorry. i like you much more dangerously broken from my sorry box. all of us, really.<br /><br />xo<br />erinerinhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16636371927224076866noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880716367641540716.post-23255976264876184762011-07-06T21:01:02.403-05:002011-07-06T21:01:02.403-05:00"surely a doppler of oddness"
I really w..."surely a doppler of oddness"<br />I really want to use that line!<br /><br />Thanks for your insightful commentary, Brendan. I have the tune sung by Mandy Pantinkin and also by my ex-girlfriend, and it's going around and around my head. I find myself humming and whistling it. Oy!<br /><br />Anyway, this has been sitting inside of me for a while and I'm still not sure about the form the story has taken here. Since I prefaced my poem with the Yiddish lyrics, I think I felt pushed into writing with some rhyme and meter (not my usual style) and that gave this a restrained feeling. I was eager to know if it resonated with an audience. I'm not sure if it feels "true" to me. Perhaps I'll revisit this again and rewrite sometime.<br />I felt strongly about the white/black and blood connections here, so thanks, Ruth, for acknowledging that.Miss Janehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13659603837343456631noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880716367641540716.post-42247620158425385262011-07-06T04:33:31.407-05:002011-07-06T04:33:31.407-05:00How do we bear the ache?
I do so like the wedding...How do we bear the ache?<br /><br />I do so like the wedding song's ground for this poem. I love how you begin, with white birches that are also black, and red. Like our blood, white, red, then black. <br /><br />We long to possess, and be possessed, as we long to be free also. The loss is so poignant here, and no, I don't think it is too much.Ruthhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/14204074161539605133noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880716367641540716.post-9815883779786797512011-07-06T03:17:01.762-05:002011-07-06T03:17:01.762-05:00The strange relations Stevens once acknowledged as...The strange relations Stevens once acknowledged as piercing us weave so finely through this odd love song (how can they ever be other than odd, the beloved always both intimate yet ultimately alien), a klezmer band with its redheaded torch singer (surely a doppler of oddness, similar yet strange), the rich malt of single-sexed pairing, the "luminous moonlit breasts" (another doppler), the wild sense of presence reverberant so bittersweetly in the absence, the fact that the affair is long in the past, that it opened doors that couldn't remain so (another doppler, another ostinato beat in many of your poems). What is it to receive a moon in fullness, except to go on with a moon-sized hole in the soul? A reverbrance of an old music, haunting and lilting in the ear as one walks home alone (a paradox there), with a heart "crowded" with a past, breaking "quietly all alone." Can't live with it, can't live without it. Go figger. Hearing the music would diminish the poem, in my book. -- BrendanBrendanhttp://blueoran.wordpress.comnoreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880716367641540716.post-54488083380288643562011-07-05T16:16:16.337-05:002011-07-05T16:16:16.337-05:00Thank you, Claudia.
It also makes me wonder for wh...Thank you, Claudia.<br />It also makes me wonder for what my wide open heart was asking.<br /><br />Perhaps if I were more tech-savvy, I could embed a player, but it seems this song isn't readily available online. <br />If you have iTunes you can listen to some snippets from their store.Miss Janehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13659603837343456631noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880716367641540716.post-57454552605371205032011-07-05T15:00:16.738-05:002011-07-05T15:00:16.738-05:00such beautiful pictures and so sad if love just do...such beautiful pictures and so sad if love just doesn't find the way...“I love you too much to offer you less<br />than you deserve.”...this made me think and i wonder if_we ever can give enough..and i don't think so...love the hebrew lines - would love to hear it sung..Claudiahttps://www.blogger.com/profile/03011763027311966186noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880716367641540716.post-9281533966773683402011-07-04T17:58:46.602-05:002011-07-04T17:58:46.602-05:00Hahaha. Thanks, erin.
That's my "serious...Hahaha. Thanks, erin.<br />That's my "serious writer" picture!<br />I found an online eye wear purveyor that let me plaster glasses on a picture of myself. <br />I'm wondering now at the image you may have had of me.<br />Was I in a quiet frock,<br />sipping a sherry,<br />scribbling odes to orioles as<br />the sun slowly slipped down<br />past my English roses?<br /><br />Thanks for reading. After I saw your trees and river image, I hoped that you would come and read this.<br />I was leery of the pathos quotient in this piece. I hope I kept it tolerable.Miss Janehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/13659603837343456631noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-880716367641540716.post-47738337360420576712011-07-04T17:13:08.337-05:002011-07-04T17:13:08.337-05:00the yiddish wedding song marries this so completel...the yiddish wedding song marries this so completely. <br /> <br />i wish <br />as though <br />i were a birch <br />and my arms a breeze <br />and you a man.<br /><br />gorgeous you.<br /><br />and you make me laugh, your profile picture completely dashing what it was i thought i knew of you. but then the beer you drank in a parking lot just last week (?) undid that too. keep undoing. what will be left?<br /><br />xo<br />erinerinhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/16636371927224076866noreply@blogger.com