Thursday, December 16, 2010

thinking in fits and starts


s
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8 comments:

Jon Parsons said...

All our debate is voiceless here,
As all our rage, the rage of stone;
If hope is hopeless, then fearless fear,
And history is thus undone.

--From "Bearded Oaks", Robert Penn Warren

Harlequin said...

intriguing and provocative pairing here...
if hope is hopeless...the cascade unfurling from that "if"
dismantling even the first glimmers
of fits and starts...perhaps
and yet, you write words with wings with words, held aloft by that barest whisper of breath, as if that is all it would take to make it so

always enjoy seeing what you are reflecting on


alis volat propriis *

Jon Parsons said...

Harle,

perhaps you seek answers
where none exists
and where the poem is
a mirror:

"A blood red flower arose, like the rich bloom
Of pomegranates which in a stubborn rind
Conceal their seeds; yet is its beauty brief,
So lightly cling its petal, fall so soon,
When the winds blow that give the flower its name."

--Ovid

Jon Parsons said...

and indeed...

on her wings I fly...

:)

Harlequin said...

Ovid is perfect :)


and, what a luscious freedom, unhinged from seeking, demanding or needing answers
indeed, yielding continues to beckon as a necessary way of being

nice touch with the latin :)

manik sharma said...

and you flew jon..if i were your mirror..

Mariana Soffer said...

I love graphical poems/texts, yours is very nice and well rounded.
Wish you the best for this time of the year.

Jon Parsons said...

manik sharma,
Thanks for stopping by. Always trying to take flight, and maybe we're all mirrors of ourselves? This little poem keeps trying to dance off the screen (an arabesque?)...
:)

Mariana,
Thanks! Lots of fun playing with the space on the page...
Hope you had a nice holiday season as well...