Re: The Poem of I-Don't-Like-You

[phanero]

the angstrom is an A with a halo.   i tend to associate the a with turbulence and the A with both the short circuit and the band-pass filter, if not the pen-nib.   "Your emotions make you a monster." is the chorus to a Dead Kennedys song.   One of my favorite books must always be _Dangerous Women_ by Victoria Cass. There is a good chapter on ancient Chinese Hermit Lady poets called Recluses and Malcontents.   Here is a poem by the famous female recluse of the Ming Dynasty Lu Qingzi:   On Dwelling In Idleness   I close my gate. I rely on suiting myself. In the little alley creepers and grass are grown deep. The color of the willow makes the spring birds call. The play of light on the waves grows tranquil in the evening shadow. The fallen petals blanket the covered ground. The high clouds grow still over the nearby grove. If you ask the purpose of the dark (you) house; There is but the plain zither as the end of the bed.   ==   My Aunt Hazel died alone in Phoenix. I would sit with her sometimes while she knitted on an afghan and baked bread, and she would talk about Arkansas, the woods and the ticks. I got the feeling she didnt like it very much.   yours Lanny   ----- Original Message ----- From: Sheila Murphy To: WRYTING-L@LISTSERV.WVU.EDU Sent: Thursday, September 21, 2006 8:38 AM Subject: The Poem of I-Don't-Like-You Big full-of-the-love heart b(ull)rushes up against the bully heart and then what? Coaches on the side past, present and to come exclaim beatitudes on steroids, trying to get a rise, it's called, out of the hurt heart. "Tell her to _____ (let's call it "collapse") herself." "Tell her to off herself." "Tell her she couldn't become interesting if she had every morself of her routine body replaced." "Tell her she will always be a drudge machine nobody loves."   Big full-of-the-hurt heart disappoints the coaches and drowns pills for years instead. Big full-of-fatigue heart turns drip-dry with sadness in the sun. Big full-of-admiration heart seeks to age kindly without kiss thirst, while out on the the surrounding lawn it always rains sans prompt, and roller-coaster thought continues making marks on the experiential sky. Big full-of-self-infliced-hurt heart fevers into sleep.   Big full-of-the-insanity-clause heart decides it's never easy not to die, Having once died, and come back as a saint. Big full-of-the-acclaimed heart offers crisis as proof of breath. Big full heart finds a light to watch and watches. Big heart tries to self sustain where there are other hearts. Big heart pieces together versions of the recent history as if to make it early. Big heart ceases to be large enough, as as to wedge into the tiny size allowed by its untenable surroundings.     sheila e. murphy