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    <title>The Poetry Archive @ eMule.com</title>
    <link>http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/index.php</link>
    <description><![CDATA[]]></description>
    <language>EN</language>
    <pubDate>Sat,  7 Nov 2009 09:18:29 -0600</pubDate>
    <lastBuildDate>Sat,  7 Nov 2009 09:18:29 -0600</lastBuildDate>
    <category>The Poetry Archive @ eMule.com</category>
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    <item>
      <title>[User Submitted Poetry] Re: social distortion</title>
      <link>http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?5,231789,231790#msg-231790</link>
      <author>hpesoj</author>
      <description><![CDATA[Frosty:

The events of the past several days serve to heighten our sense of vulnerability and our frustrations with with the fickleness of nature and the accelerating decline in human kindness in the world. You've captured those feelings well, but you also end your poem with a sense of hope.  I like that. 

Well done.

Joe]]></description>
      <category>User Submitted Poetry</category>
      <guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?5,231789,231790#msg-231790</guid>
      <pubDate>Sat,  7 Nov 2009 09:18:29 -0600</pubDate>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>[User Submitted Poetry] social distortion</title>
      <link>http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?5,231789,231789#msg-231789</link>
      <author>frost42_24</author>
      <description><![CDATA[there's such a sense of panic
the world is on fire

and the famine 
and the fighting
and the flooding 
and the crying

and the flu
and the cancer
and the suicide bombings
and the dying

and the sensationalism of the media is incredibly disappointing

nothing much has really changed
I'm guessing it's always been this way

there has always been hunger
there has always been war
there has always been flooding
there has always been dying
there has always been someone 

whose insecurities created a need to hold others down

only the world has gotten smaller
and our reach so much larger
and the possibilities are limitless
making some feel challenged
and others feel defeated

but we all still share the commonality of our humanity
or our lack thereof at times
there has always been a fire deep inside our souls 

and the sun still shines
and the earth still spins
and the skies still pour
and the ocean still rages
and our heart still beats

there is a rhythm to life that we cannot forget to move with]]></description>
      <category>User Submitted Poetry</category>
      <guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?5,231789,231789#msg-231789</guid>
      <pubDate>Sat,  7 Nov 2009 00:15:14 -0600</pubDate>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>[User Submitted Poetry] Re: Format Question</title>
      <link>http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?5,231783,231788#msg-231788</link>
      <author>frost42_24</author>
      <description><![CDATA[it looks right once posted...just looks weird at first. refresh and look again and it should work. I'm looking forward to your new poem.]]></description>
      <category>User Submitted Poetry</category>
      <guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?5,231783,231788#msg-231788</guid>
      <pubDate>Sat,  7 Nov 2009 00:00:21 -0600</pubDate>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>[General Discussion] Re: Who can give me a top 10 romantic love poem?</title>
      <link>http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?4,224797,231787#msg-231787</link>
      <author>nihil</author>
      <description><![CDATA[Whittemore in his recent book &quot;The Monument&quot; asserts that the  Dark Lady is Elizabeth and the author is the 17th Earl of Oxford, a famous nobleman/poet who hid his identity under the pseudonym of William Shakespeare. Elizabeth and Oxford were lovers and in 1574 Elizabeth bore their child who was put out to nurse and then forced into the family of the 2d Earl of Southhampton, whom he later succeeded as the very rich 3rd Earl, Henry Wriothesley (&quot;Risley&quot;) the W. H. to whom the Sonnets were dedicated. The first 27 sonnets celebrate Oxford's love for his bastard son whom he tries to make E.'s successor. So do Essex and Southhampton independently, Essex, a likely lover of E. is executed, and Southhampton is sentenced to death for Treason, and each day of his imprisonment is celebrated in the next 100 osonnets. The timing of 130 is a few days before S.'s long-delayed execution. Oxford is furious at E. who is old, and ugly, and has not slept in days, and he slanders her mercilessly. A few days later, E. dies, James V. of Scotland is E.'s heir. He pardons S. and S. and O. promise on pain of death to conceal the secret. O. who has been scribbling furiously to create a poetic monument to his royal son to whom he promises immortality through his powerful poetry that will outlet crests and brazen tombs (like Henry VII's). 
A great tale -- &quot;if this be error and against me proved, I never writ, and no man ever loved.&quot; (S. 116).  Great love poetry -- paternal  rather than homosexual (as often suspected). The Dark Lady sonnets combined hatred and begging. Well worth studying in my opinion. Whittemore knows his Shakespeare,  but no mature Shakespeare scholar can afford to believe it. Young scholars however can knock it or applaud it, produce volumes of criticism and notice things that mature, clapped-out professors have missed or misinterpeted. The beat goes on.]]></description>
      <category>General Discussion</category>
      <guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?4,224797,231787#msg-231787</guid>
      <pubDate>Fri,  6 Nov 2009 22:20:21 -0600</pubDate>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>[User Submitted Poetry] Re: Lyric Central #20</title>
      <link>http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?5,231443,231786#msg-231786</link>
      <author>les712</author>
      <description><![CDATA[My City Was Gone
--Pretenders


I went back to Ohio
But my city was gone
There was no train station
There was no downtown
South Howard had disappeared
All my favorite places
My city had been pulled down
Reduced to parking spaces
Eh, Oh, way to go Ohio

Well I went back to Ohio
But my family was gone
I stood on the back porch
There was nobody home
I was stunned and amazed
My childhood memories
Slowly swirled past
Like the wind through the trees
Eh, Oh, Oh way to go Ohio

I went back to Ohio
But my pretty countryside
Had been paved down the middle
By a government that had no pride
The farms of Ohio
Had been replaced by shopping malls
And muzak filled the air
From Seneca to Cuyahoga Falls
Said, Eh, Oh, Oh way to go Ohio

Les]]></description>
      <category>User Submitted Poetry</category>
      <guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?5,231443,231786#msg-231786</guid>
      <pubDate>Fri,  6 Nov 2009 22:09:19 -0600</pubDate>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>[User Submitted Poetry] Re: to you, unknown</title>
      <link>http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?5,231771,231785#msg-231785</link>
      <author>les712</author>
      <description><![CDATA[&quot;wot did you think of the poem?&quot;\

Not my cup of tea.  Keep writing though I'm sure you'll find others who  delight in this style.


Les]]></description>
      <category>User Submitted Poetry</category>
      <guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?5,231771,231785#msg-231785</guid>
      <pubDate>Fri,  6 Nov 2009 22:04:49 -0600</pubDate>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>[Homework Assistance] Fred Cogswell's &quot;Circular Saws&quot;</title>
      <link>http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?6,231784,231784#msg-231784</link>
      <author>Ookamichan</author>
      <description><![CDATA[Hello,
I'm in a need of a bit of help concerning Cogswell's poem &quot;Circular Saws.&quot; I need to find 3 literary devices, but I'm having trouble. I thought maybe the circular saws were used as a metaphor for &quot;anything hurtful; physical and emotional&quot;...and also that maybe in the third stanza, &quot;...They had ways of disguising themselves&quot; was personification since saws can't disguise themselves, they can only be disguised....but, I'm not the brightest, so I could be wrong. What are some other literary devices you can spot out?

Also, am I right in guessing that the meaning is that being hurt is unavoidable and that we are also hurtful?

Thank you in advance.]]></description>
      <category>Homework Assistance</category>
      <guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?6,231784,231784#msg-231784</guid>
      <pubDate>Fri,  6 Nov 2009 19:26:14 -0600</pubDate>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>[User Submitted Poetry] Format Question</title>
      <link>http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?5,231783,231783#msg-231783</link>
      <author>aaron</author>
      <description><![CDATA[I have been away for a little while and just tried to post by copying and pasting into this box.  All my words were placed on the same line.

What is the trick to posting?

Thanks]]></description>
      <category>User Submitted Poetry</category>
      <guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?5,231783,231783#msg-231783</guid>
      <pubDate>Fri,  6 Nov 2009 19:19:19 -0600</pubDate>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>[User Submitted Poetry] Conversation as Discontinuous Interruptions</title>
      <link>http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?5,231782,231782#msg-231782</link>
      <author>petersz</author>
      <description><![CDATA[Conversation as Discontinuous Interruptions

We were wanting to be
Talking about the words
They were using poets
Making words do
What they knew they couldn’t do
As they left in the room
Empty -- the windows open
The path to the door
Closed like their minds
To anthropologists, politicians
Movie stars waiting for their chance
Among the ambiguities
Before we took off the track
Recorded a new scene
Came to ourselves]]></description>
      <category>User Submitted Poetry</category>
      <guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?5,231782,231782#msg-231782</guid>
      <pubDate>Fri,  6 Nov 2009 17:36:41 -0600</pubDate>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>[User Submitted Poetry] Re: Pretty boys,warm girls</title>
      <link>http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?5,231779,231781#msg-231781</link>
      <author>petersz</author>
      <description><![CDATA[ain't the phenomenology of love grand.

cheers,

Peter]]></description>
      <category>User Submitted Poetry</category>
      <guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?5,231779,231781#msg-231781</guid>
      <pubDate>Fri,  6 Nov 2009 14:50:17 -0600</pubDate>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>[User Submitted Poetry] Re: Covered Ground</title>
      <link>http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?5,231749,231780#msg-231780</link>
      <author>Ordinary_girl</author>
      <description><![CDATA[I really like the imagery in this poem, it is different and relaxing, i like it :)

Beth]]></description>
      <category>User Submitted Poetry</category>
      <guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?5,231749,231780#msg-231780</guid>
      <pubDate>Fri,  6 Nov 2009 11:15:33 -0600</pubDate>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>[User Submitted Poetry] Pretty boys,warm girls</title>
      <link>http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?5,231779,231779#msg-231779</link>
      <author>Ordinary_girl</author>
      <description><![CDATA[A short drabble ;)


When the pretty boy just stands there,
unobseverant, unware,
her heart beats like fire and ice
her lips pulsing with his so near
yet so far and cold and pale
her skin, her bone ,her lips
twitch beneath her
her heart wanting to get out
to find him, to invite him in
but its obscure, 
its complicated and terrifying
and nothing is like it seems.]]></description>
      <category>User Submitted Poetry</category>
      <guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?5,231779,231779#msg-231779</guid>
      <pubDate>Fri,  6 Nov 2009 10:46:54 -0600</pubDate>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>[General Discussion] Re: Does the daily news always make bad poetry?</title>
      <link>http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?4,231734,231778#msg-231778</link>
      <author>Ordinary_girl</author>
      <description><![CDATA[hey,

I think if crafted carefully it can be good, i have written a poem about ignorance that i'm very proud of.  But I think you have to be careful about it so it doesn't come across as a lecture 

Beth]]></description>
      <category>General Discussion</category>
      <guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?4,231734,231778#msg-231778</guid>
      <pubDate>Fri,  6 Nov 2009 10:15:10 -0600</pubDate>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>[User Submitted Poetry] Re: to you, unknown</title>
      <link>http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?5,231771,231777#msg-231777</link>
      <author>Ordinary_girl</author>
      <description><![CDATA[thanks Les :) wot did you think of the poem?

Beth]]></description>
      <category>User Submitted Poetry</category>
      <guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?5,231771,231777#msg-231777</guid>
      <pubDate>Fri,  6 Nov 2009 10:06:29 -0600</pubDate>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>[User Submitted Poetry] Re: to you, unknown</title>
      <link>http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?5,231771,231776#msg-231776</link>
      <author>les712</author>
      <description><![CDATA[Welcome to the mule, OG.

Les]]></description>
      <category>User Submitted Poetry</category>
      <guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?5,231771,231776#msg-231776</guid>
      <pubDate>Fri,  6 Nov 2009 02:26:12 -0600</pubDate>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>[User Submitted Poetry] Re: Frivolous Conversation</title>
      <link>http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?5,231705,231775#msg-231775</link>
      <author>UPMarty</author>
      <description><![CDATA[I found a poet and his poetry.  Good stuff.
----------------------------------------------
The Book of Questions, III by Pablo Neruda 
Translated by William O'Daly 
III.


Tell me, is the rose naked
or is that her only dress?

Why do trees conceal
the splendor of their roots?

Who hears the regrets
of the thieving automobile?

Is there anything in the world sadder 
than a train standing in the rain?

----------------------------------------------------------


The Separate Rose: I by Pablo Neruda 
Translated by William O'Daly

Today is that day, the day that carried
a desperate light that since has died.
Don’t let the squatters know:
let’s keep it all between us,
day, between your bell
and my secret.

Today is dead winter in the forgotten land
that comes to visit me, with a cross on the map
and a volcano in the snow, to return to me,
to return again the water
fallen on the roof of my childhood.
Today when the sun began with its shafts
to tell the story, so clear, so old,
the slanting rain fell like a sword,
the rain my hard heart welcomes.

You, my love, still asleep in August,
my queen, my woman, my vastness, my geography
kiss of mud, the carbon-coated zither,
you, vestment of my persistent song,
today you are reborn again and with the sky’s
black water confuse me and compel me:
I must renew my bones in your kingdom,
I must still uncloud my earthly duties.


----------------------------------------------------------



The Song of Despair by Pablo Neruda 
Translated by W. S. Merwin
 
The memory of you emerges from the night around me.
The river mingles its stubborn lament with the sea.

Deserted like the wharves at dawn.
It is the hour of departure, oh deserted one!

Cold flower heads are raining over my heart.
Oh pit of debris, fierce cave of the shipwrecked.

In you the wars and the flights accumulated.
From you the wings of the song birds rose.

You swallowed everything, like distance.
Like the sea, like time. In you everything sank!

It was the happy hour of assault and the kiss.
The hour of the spell that blazed like a lighthouse.

Pilot’s dread, fury of a blind diver,
turbulent drunkenness of love, in you everything sank!

In the childhood of mist my soul, winged and wounded.
Lost discoverer, in you everything sank!

You girdled sorrow, you clung to desire,
sadness stunned you, in you everything sank!

I made the wall of shadow draw back,
beyond desire and act, I walked on.

Oh flesh, my own flesh, woman whom I loved and lost,
I summon you in the moist hour, I raise my song to you.

Like a jar you housed the infinite tenderness,
and the infinite oblivion shattered you like a jar.

There was the black solitude of the islands,
and there, woman of love, your arms took me in.

There were thirst and hunger, and you were the fruit.
There were grief and the ruins, and you were the miracle.

Ah woman, I do not know how you could contain me
in the earth of your soul, in the cross of your arms!

How terrible and brief was my desire of you!
How difficult and drunken, how tensed and avid.

Cemetery of kisses, there is still fire in your tombs,
still the fruited boughs burn, pecked at by birds.

Oh the bitten mouth, oh the kissed limbs,
oh the hungering teeth, oh the entwined bodies.

Oh the mad coupling of hope and force
in which we merged and despaired.

And the tenderness, light as water and as flour.
And the word scarcely begun on the lips.

This was my destiny and in it was the voyage of my longing,
and in it my longing fell, in you everything sank!

Oh pit of debris, everything fell into you,
what sorrow did you not express, in what sorrow are you not drowned!

From billow to billow you still called and sang.
Standing like a sailor in the prow of a vessel.

You still flowered in songs, you still broke in currents.
Oh pit of debris, open and bitter well.

Pale blind diver, luckless slinger,
lost discoverer, in you everything sank!

It is the hour of departure, the hard cold hour
which the night fastens to all the timetables.

The rustling belt of the sea girdles the shore.
Cold stars heave up, black birds migrate.

Deserted like the wharves at dawn.
Only the tremulous shadow twists in my hands.

Oh farther than everything. Oh farther than everything.

It is the hour of departure. Oh abandoned one.

------------------------------------------------------


Love For This Book by Pablo Neruda 
Translated by Clark Zlotchew and Dennis Maloney
 
In these lonely regions I have been powerful
in the same way as a cheerful tool
or like untrammeled grass which lets loose its seed
or like a dog rolling around in the dew.
Matilde, time will pass wearing out and burning
another skin, other fingernails, other eyes, and then
the algae that lashed our wild rocks,
the waves that unceasingly construct their own whiteness,
all will be firm without us,
all will be ready for the new days,
which will not know our destiny.

What do we leave here but the lost cry
of the seabird, in the sand of winter, in the gusts of wind
that cut our faces and kept us
erect in the light of purity,
as in the heart of an illustrious star?

What do we leave, living like a nest
of surly birds, alive, among the thickets
or static, perched on the frigid cliffs?
So then, if living was nothing more than anticipating
the earth, this soil and its harshness,
deliver me, my love, from not doing my duty, and help me
return to my place beneath the hungry earth.

We asked the ocean for its rose,
its open star, its bitter contact,
and to the overburdened, to the fellow human being, to the wounded
we gave the freedom gathered in the wind.
It's late now. Perhaps
it was only a long day the color of honey and blue,
perhaps only a night, like the eyelid
of a grave look that encompassed
the measure of the sea that surrounded us,
and in this territory we found only a kiss,
only ungraspable love that will remain here
wandering among the sea foam and roots.

-----------------------------------------------------------
Still Another Day: XVII/Men by Pablo Neruda 
Translated by William O'Daly
 
The truth is in the prologue.  Death to the romantic fool,
to the expert in solitary confinement,
I’m the same as the teacher from Colombia,
the rotarian from Philadelphia, the merchant
from Paysandu who save his silver
to come here.  We all arrive by different streets,
by unequal languages, at Silence.]]></description>
      <category>User Submitted Poetry</category>
      <guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?5,231705,231775#msg-231775</guid>
      <pubDate>Thu,  5 Nov 2009 22:33:25 -0600</pubDate>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>[General Discussion] Re: Help for a newcomer</title>
      <link>http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?4,38868,231774#msg-231774</link>
      <author>UPMarty</author>
      <description><![CDATA[Yes, indeed, but I still have technological difficulties at times. Has it really been five years? wow.

Mary]]></description>
      <category>General Discussion</category>
      <guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?4,38868,231774#msg-231774</guid>
      <pubDate>Thu,  5 Nov 2009 21:13:20 -0600</pubDate>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>[User Submitted Poetry] Re: Lyric Central #20</title>
      <link>http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?5,231443,231773#msg-231773</link>
      <author>Mr. P</author>
      <description><![CDATA[Tom Waits - Brother Can You Spare A Dime?

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=CVE72Ae82Tw]]></description>
      <category>User Submitted Poetry</category>
      <guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?5,231443,231773#msg-231773</guid>
      <pubDate>Thu,  5 Nov 2009 18:17:34 -0600</pubDate>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>[General Discussion] Re: Spammers are back! Moderators needed.</title>
      <link>http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?4,231313,231772#msg-231772</link>
      <author>misterF</author>
      <description><![CDATA[Jack? Is that You?

Cartoon. First picture: man drowning, shouts to dog &quot;get help!&quot;
         Second picture is of dog on psychiatrist's couch.

That's how it is these days.
You OK?]]></description>
      <category>General Discussion</category>
      <guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?4,231313,231772#msg-231772</guid>
      <pubDate>Thu,  5 Nov 2009 15:10:00 -0600</pubDate>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>[User Submitted Poetry] to you, unknown</title>
      <link>http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?5,231771,231771#msg-231771</link>
      <author>Ordinary_girl</author>
      <description><![CDATA[this is only a very rough draft, written in the spur of a moment, suggestions for improvement and titles will be appreciated :)


his eyes sparkle intense
curious, an endless sea
I dream and dream
as I'm lost in them
my heartencapsulated forever
your words are simple yet divine
you voice is satin,
 luxurious, soft
yet easily torn, 
ruined in a moment

my soul my being my all
lives within you
i hang on to everything you say
every move, however slight
i learn to read you,
to find what you think
but your heart is cave
i cannot break into

you love is I desire
it is all I ever dream of
you are the only 
the only who keeps me alive
without you  would stop
mt soul could not cope
for I am lost in you
though you dontknow
my heart has left myself
and it lives in you
and your heart beats for two

i cannot break free
yet i cannot break in
i am stuck in pergatory
between your heart and mine
i am in a holding pen
that no-one else can see
i lie, because i cannot tell
the truth evades me for always

even if you go
if you vanish ou tof my life
my heart will never fully return
for i was lost
i am lost
i will always be lost
yet you, perfect 
with unending beauty
will never know.]]></description>
      <category>User Submitted Poetry</category>
      <guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?5,231771,231771#msg-231771</guid>
      <pubDate>Thu,  5 Nov 2009 14:29:38 -0600</pubDate>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>[General Discussion] Re: &quot;Boy on a swing&quot;</title>
      <link>http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?4,40751,231770#msg-231770</link>
      <author>Ordinary_girl</author>
      <description><![CDATA[I may be compeltly wrong but persoanlly I think it is about when all the important elemts of your life completly change yet all come together, about the sense of growing up and suddenly wanting to know everyyhthing you never thought to as because you realise everything matters and can change in a second.

I am sure this has more cultural references but I think that it also symbolises this for everyone.

Beth]]></description>
      <category>General Discussion</category>
      <guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?4,40751,231770#msg-231770</guid>
      <pubDate>Thu,  5 Nov 2009 14:24:18 -0600</pubDate>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>[User Submitted Poetry] Re: Ventriloquism</title>
      <link>http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?5,231764,231769#msg-231769</link>
      <author>les712</author>
      <description><![CDATA[Peter, one of the rewards of revisiting an  old poem is asking oneself, how might I have done this differently. Of course the danger in revising an old work is that one might create a different poem than was originally intended.

Les]]></description>
      <category>User Submitted Poetry</category>
      <guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?5,231764,231769#msg-231769</guid>
      <pubDate>Thu,  5 Nov 2009 12:41:14 -0600</pubDate>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>[User Submitted Poetry] Re: Ventriloquism</title>
      <link>http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?5,231764,231768#msg-231768</link>
      <author>petersz</author>
      <description><![CDATA[Thanks, Les.  Kind of an old piece, reworked a little.  Found it by accident.

Cheers,

Peter]]></description>
      <category>User Submitted Poetry</category>
      <guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?5,231764,231768#msg-231768</guid>
      <pubDate>Thu,  5 Nov 2009 10:49:17 -0600</pubDate>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>[User Submitted Poetry] Re: Covered Ground</title>
      <link>http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?5,231749,231767#msg-231767</link>
      <author>petersz</author>
      <description><![CDATA[No, Joe, I am in fact one hundred percent behind you in your evaluation of the work Mary is doing.  We all do what we do.

Cheers,

Peter]]></description>
      <category>User Submitted Poetry</category>
      <guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?5,231749,231767#msg-231767</guid>
      <pubDate>Thu,  5 Nov 2009 10:48:20 -0600</pubDate>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>[User Submitted Poetry] Re: Ventriloquism</title>
      <link>http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?5,231764,231766#msg-231766</link>
      <author>les712</author>
      <description><![CDATA[A nice little vignette, Pete.  

Les]]></description>
      <category>User Submitted Poetry</category>
      <guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?5,231764,231766#msg-231766</guid>
      <pubDate>Thu,  5 Nov 2009 10:47:59 -0600</pubDate>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>[User Submitted Poetry] Re: Covered Ground</title>
      <link>http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?5,231749,231765#msg-231765</link>
      <author>hpesoj</author>
      <description><![CDATA[Mary:

Thanks for the Empson post.  I had not read anything of his before this.  I shall read more.

Peter:

I hope you aren't taking my comments about writing structured poetry as a backhanded swipe of free-form or steam-of-consciousness writing.  I just think Mary's poem is especially well done and I wanted her to know that I admire the effort it took to produce.

Joe]]></description>
      <category>User Submitted Poetry</category>
      <guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?5,231749,231765#msg-231765</guid>
      <pubDate>Thu,  5 Nov 2009 06:14:00 -0600</pubDate>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>[User Submitted Poetry] Ventriloquism</title>
      <link>http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?5,231764,231764#msg-231764</link>
      <author>petersz</author>
      <description><![CDATA[Ventriloquism

Let some light in the room.
Laughing comes easy, they say,
But I still see the sun across the roof
And wonder when it will go.
It doesn’t matter much to you,
But the rain is gone for today.

We get a weather report in our poems
Instead of an account of the soul;
Thank god for small blessings, 
She said, as he rolled over,
As if they were in a vaudeville routine.
Bill said, all life is a stage, or staged,
Or give me a towel and a saloon.
Just let it in, Miriam.]]></description>
      <category>User Submitted Poetry</category>
      <guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?5,231764,231764#msg-231764</guid>
      <pubDate>Thu,  5 Nov 2009 00:22:06 -0600</pubDate>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>[User Submitted Poetry] Re: Covered Ground</title>
      <link>http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?5,231749,231763#msg-231763</link>
      <author>petersz</author>
      <description><![CDATA[Mary,
I wrote about the pastoral poetry of Edmund Spenser many moons ago in graduate school.  Interesting stuff. I also used to read Empson, but I got over him.

Cheers,

Peter

btw, being elaborate isn't necessarily a defect; I just don't always have the patience for it.

amo,

Peter]]></description>
      <category>User Submitted Poetry</category>
      <guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?5,231749,231763#msg-231763</guid>
      <pubDate>Thu,  5 Nov 2009 00:17:48 -0600</pubDate>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>[User Submitted Poetry] Re: Covered Ground</title>
      <link>http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?5,231749,231762#msg-231762</link>
      <author>UPMarty</author>
      <description><![CDATA[I found some discussion which talks both about Villanelles being pastoral and elaborate.  There is one by William Empson, &quot;It is the pain...&quot; and a reading of it, which sounds eerily like you, Peter, doing the reading.  I'll post the link in case anyone wants to hear the reading.

http://olimu.com/Readings/Villanelle.htm]]></description>
      <category>User Submitted Poetry</category>
      <guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?5,231749,231762#msg-231762</guid>
      <pubDate>Wed,  4 Nov 2009 21:36:33 -0600</pubDate>
    </item>
    <item>
      <title>[User Submitted Poetry] Re: Covered Ground</title>
      <link>http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?5,231749,231761#msg-231761</link>
      <author>UPMarty</author>
      <description><![CDATA[Thanks, Les.  Where I live, there's no mistaking the season.  Leaves, leaves, everywhere!

Joe,
I appreciate your comments.  My roots are steeped in tradition, which is sometimes a blessing and other times...well, let's just say difficult.  I will have to explore what you say about the traditional definition of a Villanelle being a &quot;pastoral&quot; piece.  I hadn't heard that before.

Peter,
First let me just say I love you and all the ways that you are different from me. I always welcome whatever it is you have to say. It's interesting that you should use the word &quot;elaborate&quot; to describe such &quot;poetry like&quot; poems as Villanelles and others.  It is also very interesting to me that you mention a minister's discourse on &quot;good works&quot;.  

Recent circumstances in my life involved my exploration of attending church again, but not the Catholic place where I was raised. At this new church I was attending, there seemed to be many comments dropped, whether in sermons, study groups, or adult Sunday school about Catholics...either directly or in a round about way... sort of dissing...the beads (rosaries) or other known practices of Catholics, like repeating certain prescribed prayers. In my youth, I remember hearing criticisms of Catholics with their &quot;elaborate&quot; Cathedrals, statues, money, wealth, idol worship (the statues, Blessed mother) etc.

Only recently had I heard critical discussion about &quot;good works&quot; in relation to the Catholic Church. I didn't stick around long enough to get the full low down, but I guess Catholics supposedly, in error, think they'll get to heaven just by doing good works. This church taught there's no need to do good works because Christ died on the cross.  You just have to accept him as your personal savior.  I don't know...and walk around doing no works or bad works??  It didn't make sense to me.

Anyway, long story shorter, I understand and accept that you and I have differences in the way we write, the type of poetry we most enjoy reading, how we approach poetry, and probably how we approach life too.  I feel no need or desire to get you to see it my way and I don't wish to be exactly like you.  I enjoy the differences and the fact that not only despite them, but because of them, I love you and your poetry.

Peace,

Mary]]></description>
      <category>User Submitted Poetry</category>
      <guid isPermaLink="true">http://www.emule.com/2poetry/phorum/read.php?5,231749,231761#msg-231761</guid>
      <pubDate>Wed,  4 Nov 2009 19:05:56 -0600</pubDate>
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