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Picnic in the shade
Sunday, every Sunday, let's have a community picnic. It's probably been a long week, and it's lovely to have a few minutes to sit back and relax and enjoy some good conversation in a less formal space. Feel free to bring something for the Picnic Basket - a poem you liked this week, a thought you had or something you experienced, or even something completely unrelated to poetry whatsoever that you just feel like sharing. Just take a moment to say hello, and maybe have a bite to eat; no one is going anywhere fast, and the shade promises some relief from the everyday heat. Let’s get to know each other a bit better, here under the branches of the poet’s tree.
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---L.
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I Was Reading A Scientific Article by Margaret Atwood (a rather confusing title and attribution if you say it out loud) is the poem that's caught my attention this week. I love how she describes the inner landscapes inside people in a way that's purely scientific yet also magical: it's something I struggle to capture in my own work, the myriad amazing ways in which we connect when we're interacting with others and with the world, on not just macro-physical and emotional, but ethereal, atomic, subatomic levels.
And things like-- the ways in which the touch of a person's hand, or their head on your shoulder, or their breathing, can recall waves or wind or rolling sand dunes, and it's not just a romantic metaphor (though it is that, too), but a fascinating echo of this fractal universe in which everything has a degree of likeness with everything else, and-- I think she captures that so well, in ways that I can't quite, and that I envy.
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caption this photo
I took this yesterday driving up to Maine -- the first motorcyclist, the one driving, is a leather-tanned whip-thin older man, while the blonde woman riding behind has her nose very deep into a paperback book. They were going about 75 miles an hour on the highway. I can only salute her powers of concentration - I never saw her look up from her book once while the pair passed me.
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Your absence has gone through me
Like thread through a needle.
Everything I do is stitched with its color.
-- W S Merwin
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Today I thought how beautiful the last line would look written in that pastel rainbow gel pen, in a journal. Unforunately, I have neither of those things, but I'm thinking of starting a quote journal (perhaps with photos?).
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A quote journal sounds like a good idea if you want to keep one. ^-^ If you're thinking of keeping one online then you might be able to mimic the effect you're discussing here (and I agree it would be absolutely beautiful) with HTML. It wouldn't be the same, of course, but still. I hope it's a thought worth considering for you. ^-^
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I come bearing links!
A selection of articles/excerpts of articles on Robert Frost's Nothing Gold Can Stay, a study guide on Byron's She Walks in Beauty, and The Poetry Project, which is a project that encourages people to talk about poetry at least once every month. I thought some of you might be interested in hearing about it. ^-^
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---L.