”In the shadow…you can see your own shape… taking shape… as you watch those in the sunshine thinking they are free of darkness…nobody ever is… crossing that line out of shadow to the warmth of light sometimes takes more courage than there is inside you… but you do it anyway because you know there is no other way.”
AuroraMorealist (c) 15May2013 (c) photo AuroraMorealist
NOW EVEN NOTHING IS SOMETHING
Lyrics © AuroraMorealist (Janice) May 11, 2013 all rights reserved
Before you I decided
Life was best alone
Now I can’t imagine
That old world of cruel stone
Before you nothing seemed
Like anything I’d want to do
Now even nothing is something
Whenever I’m with you
Your kind heart proved trust and love
More than just a scam
I don’t need you more than want you
I already found the best man
Before you everything
Was hard- oh how I’d try
To put the brave face on
Never let them see me cry
Before you nothing seemed
Like anything I’d want to do
Now even nothing is something
Whenever I’m with you
Your kind heart proved trust and love
More than just a scam
I don’t need you more than want you
I already found the best man
Now I cry proud I still can
No more rising floors
Though sad tears happen too
I’m just so happy to be yours
Before you nothing seemed
Like anything I’d want to do
Now even nothing is something
Whenever I’m with you
Your kind heart proved trust and love
More than just a scam
I don’t need you more than want you
I already found the best man
Lyrics © AuroraMorealist (Janice) May 11, 2013 all rights reserved
If anyone wishes to buy this song, please contact Aura M here or Aurora Morealist on Facebook via private message, thanks!
(c) AuraM May1-2013
(c)AuraM 25April2013
~
dreamers adrift love seize all
mighty visionaries raising beings cloud high the
once invisible hearts of two
~
JAM (c)9April2013
Readers but if you want to read the poem that triggered the discussion/reply below, you will have to read Marie’s pages for yourself and I’m sure you will be glad you did.Toni, some days I wonder if the question of ‘inferiority’ matters in poetry. I wouldn’t presume to teach you how to write, for example. You remember the days when I wrote sonnets and you wrote free verse? Did it all seem easier back then?
I’m not sure I get your point about cultural ignorance being a factor in your interpretation of what I write – this poem in particular – at a time when so much poetry, so much damn good poetry, often seems arcane. When I read the works of WordPress poets I admire (such as Steven Myers, Claudia Schönfeld, or Mari Sanchez Cayuso) I do not always ‘get’ everything they’re saying. There is often a disjunctive quality about their work, which is part of their style(s) and technique(s) – or this might be in my reading and interpretation, I don’t know. Interpretation is part of the artistic process, even when bafflement is involved. None of us knows everything. Anyhow, sometimes I do not write with the sole intention of being ‘got’. Words can be used to conceal as well as to reveal; they can be employed to surprise, they can be used creatively, wrestled into meaning new things; they can be there for their sound rather than their sense, whether that sound is melifluous or raucous. They can be there for the way they look, which is one reason why I have resorted to the use of a stark courier font and an image rather than on entered text, and latterly in the ‘demon’s diary’ to the use of an arbitrary dot for the letter ‘o’. Maybe.
Dictionaries are fine tools. Yes, often I look for an archaic or specialised word, either in my own vocabulary or in my research – for example, my current ‘notepad’ contains boat-building terms and a series of poems might come of that.
I know what it is like to doubt the worth of one’s own poetry (surely we all do that?). I think it would probably be of inestimable value to me if you would say to me, “What the hell is this mish-mash supposed to mean?” sometimes, instead of lamenting your own supposed lack of understanding. Tell me where I am going wrong in your eyes. I am not some lofty goddess of poetry; I’m a struggling writer, full of self-doubt but willing to persevere and to experiment. If I am dedicated to anything, it is to operating as though the Chinese walls between this- and that- type of poetry did not exist.
[By the way, have you read my 'lithopoesis' experiment from 2010? http://lithopoesis.wordpress.com/ ]
Anyhow… back to my bowl of cereal.
