this cutie was taken by Crazyegg95 in 2005 and is from flickr

for the main blog of poetry, whimsy and maybe beauty, now

Friday, 29 February 2008

Carver and Reid

Well, this is not the poetry blog, though poetry sometimes appears hereupon. My father wrote me a very witty email tonight. He is a funny man in print.

And when drunk.

Happy drunks are the best, though our livers do not necessarily agree.

Anyway - this one because I love it so, do not know, if others do too. So even though it should maybe appear elsewhere, I shall place it here, and the one to follow. That previous bit kind of goes to the chorus, in phrasing - not intent, of this song

From the master of those brilliant snapshots of life, Raymond Carver:

Late Fragment

And did you get what

you wanted from this life, even so?

I did.

And what did you want?

To call myself beloved, to feel myself

beloved on the earth.


Now, a potential love of mine viewed this as terribly negative as he felt that Carver was writing as a man who was finished with life. It was a finished poem. But no, even though Carver's life was tumultuous and I doubt I would have wanted to have gone through the hurdy-gurdy with him, this is a man who was contented, for this moment, for the writing, the expression he wished to exhibit.

The love previously spoke of, the claytonship, pulled a strange meaning from these lines, too:

maybe that's what I should do

rather than build pedestals from which

even dragons would tumble...

I do not have the rest of that poem...might have deleted it ...but I have the gist. Anyway, his view was that dragons were such a despicable creature that my pedestal must have been built mighty low. Maybe it was self reflection on his part (heh!). The dragon in my mind (my poem) was wondrous, of course, but my pedestals were even higher.

Anyway, that wasn't the second poem I wanted to post, it was this:

Dear Diary

Today my wife called me

a 'pompous old fart'.

We were hugging at the time

and did not spring apart,

though her words were deliberate

and struck at my heart.

It's a fearsome business,

this loving and being loved.

Would anyone try it

if they hadn't been shoved

by a force beyond resistance -

velvet-fisted and iron-gloved?

Christopher Reid (nd?).

I cannot get the lines to indent the way I want them to. I apologise. Every second line should be indented. Anyway, I imagine this man, pot belly, balding, in the arms of his wife. Oh,the cut and thrust of familiarity. And not being able to express his hurt, knowing it would bring an attention that outweighed the slight. And knowing that he probably was a pompous old fart in many ways, but one with love, huh? Funny, I did not notice that it rhymed until now. That's a good thing for me.

I leave you without conclusion.

Monday, 25 February 2008

the deleting demon

I went a bit spare last month with getting the assignment done, and wiped everything off here - never to return, un-uh, no never - that lasted for all of the two hours or so that the deleting demon possessed me. I am terrible at deleting, well no, I am actually very good at it, therefore, I am a terrible deleter, as in it is my wont and habit: tearing things up throwing things out, emptying my whole inbox, setting things on fire. I love that piece of pottery you gave me, but you don't love me anymore, so I'm going to smash it to a thousand pieces. So there, that'll learn ya!.

I bought a ceramic dog, weird of face, but sort of endearing, that reminded me of a long term crush that went nowhere - claytonships I call them - the relationship you're having when you're not having a relationship - anyway, that dog used to sit in the garden amongst carefully, or occasionally, if we're being honest, tended flowers. My shovel made its way into his head, body, torso one very cranky afternoon. Damn it, loved that pooch, though.

I tried to get a link to that original claytons advertisement, but couldn't find it, so here is this from wikipedia.

The point being, far away from my obvious psychosis, is that I deleted the Shaun Tan pictures and links. They had reminded a friend of his interest in the author/illustrator, and he went out and bought two of the books and read them with his daughter in a cafe where a woman actually had an original print from the Red Tree. Holy synchronicity batman.

So, as Shaun Tan is a good and worthy cause, I will put the pics up again. If you are ever feeling a bit down, The Red Tree is sure to lift you up, and I spoke of The Arrival before. A true work of art that tells a truly poignant and powerful story.

Shaun Tan

Sunday, 24 February 2008

And the yuki god laughed

Hey rememember this ?

and this:

and how I said Spring was just around the corner?

Well, look at what the snow god brought us:

At least as the day progressed, though it has been snowing, it warmed up some and the winds didn't blow so strongly, and you can see a change. This is at about lunchtime:

and then at about 4 this afternoon.

Everytime I say spring is almost here, see what happens!
Best I keep my mouth shut.

Thursday, 21 February 2008

(to my mother)

upon whose knee will I rest

my head in my fragility alone

as I have left you to your own

this experience never shared

always known.

park rose, (c) 2008

Tuesday, 19 February 2008

Well, I was a bit in the blah-doms despite having finished massive assignment, or perhaps because of finishing it. I am sure there are healthier pastimes than sitting in front of this computer, anyway. Am thankful that I have had the chance to start up swimming again, but instead of writing ad infinitum about laps, and the pool and the peace and such things, I might put up a few images that show that maybe, really, spring is just around the corner.

Some of the Siberian geese or swans seemed to be flying home the other day, so perhaps they know.

Anyway, these pictures are for a friend of mine who has had a little too much of winter. I hope she enjoys their whimsy. They are all taken on my balcony.


The beginning of winter. The midst of winter. And today! The thongs (yes, that's what we call them in Oz) sure look prettier in winter, though!

Sorry about the bright brown there, and of course it is not a garden to be proud of, but see what it has just freed itself of! Of course I know where she comes from you wouldn't even be getting an outline of the things pictured above - I could not imagine living in the type of snow that she does, but many people do, all over the world. Anyway - just a little bit of warmth for her, and for those who are waiting for a few rays of sun.

As for the Aussies who are suffering from the heat, well, just rest your sunburnt eyes on the snow pics for a while.

Sunday, 3 February 2008

(poem to a lover)

this I long to see

the habit and labour that wears

smooth the skin, splits lines

into the palms of your hands

strips of bark peeled back

and curling.

fingertips not quite

a match against my own

alluvial whorls caught in

the elbow bend of a river

roots burrowing into loam.

patterns not yet uncovered by snow.

February, 2008, park rose ©

this cutie was taken by Crazyegg95 in 2005 and is from flickr