on saturdays in leiden, the vendors fill the streets with their carts and tents of clothes and food and olibolo (did NOT spell that right) balls for Sinterklaas… middle eastern scarves, heavy wheels of cheese, african carvings, and books. people here love books.
i found this slim volume of poems by John Smith (?) at one of those carts. a book in english and i liked the subject… so i bought it. and, after reading, thought some of the poems might generate discussion, as love tends to do.
from 1952 and “The Dark Side of Love” . . .
A MINOR EMOTION
First and Last: 1
Man, coming first to woman
and finding her fair
Might, looking in her eyes, discover
How soon he will despair
Of finding that way back again
From her enchanted lair,
Made captive by such simple things
As eyes, as lips, as hair
Estrangement: 2
Turning, I found you gone
Who had been always there.
How can you know that I
Plunged into such despair
Have since that sullen day
Searched for you everywhere?
Since you have never moved
How can I hope to find
That place where you are gone?
I who am grown so blind
How may trace the way
Back to your heart and mind?
____________________________________________
what i liked about these poems, the whole book in fact, was the simplicity of his despair and his glorified memories. it seems honest to me. sad and romantic. and women, for some reason, love to know this power over a man.
the best thing about this collection, for me, is its name… The Dark Side of Love.
so, what’s in your heart… and i know you want to rec the pony party, but DON’t do IT! and remember to be excellent to each other… when love hasn’t got you twisted up and in despair, that is. but sometimes it just feels good to feel bad… what can i say.
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you haven’t really lived…
I do note that when I was younger I was able to tolerate far more drama in my love life, maybe I even enjoyed it. Now I am sorta “fuck all that” my home is supposed to be my peaceable kingdom.
Author
but i do need some umph. a little fire, not so much to burn down the house, but enough to get singed…
oh. passion. love. politics. traveling. food. art.
It was here yesterday….
the most dangerous topic of all….:-)
He could drop some sonnets or key scenes from classic lit to inspire us. Might be the one time he is actually sleeping.
…and what I hope I have written and what I can continue to write.
And I hope in what I can teach and learn about life.
snif, snif
snif, snif
for some advice on love….
To bad I can’t sing myself or we could get a ladies singing group here…
you gotta stand up and demand it…
everyone. I am going to scoot out and try to see if I can take a couple of pictures. I have no ideas for pony party tomorrow. Pony block. I might be in a “lamest” competition.