Gilbert is so good. It waits. Deep in our hearts. Our poetry will arise in a place that is not the mind. It patiently and mysteriously waits there and slowly it becomes our lives.
I am 77 years old and suffering the same malady that my dad suffered:, friends are dying from natural causes. As I await my turn, I find myself singing to myself songs Ditties and TV commercials. We got our TV in 1947, and ever since, I have been a passive follower of commercials for everything frim healthy cigarettes to Oscar Meyer songs aand I find myself wondering that when I finish my repertoire I will pass. -Amen-
I read this poem several times to get its meaning. It called to mind Samuel Beckett's "Waiting for Godot". This two-act tragedy-comedy play from the fifties appears to have a similar message, yet I am not sure. The play is about pointlessness and repetitiveness in modern life (theatre of the absurd). The two men continue to wait day after day for Godot (change for the better) but he doesn't show up.
The heart is a foreign country ❤️
I loved that line as well
I have been studying the language of the heart... and it seems to live in the body. Our body speaks and we try to find the words for it.
The heart is the home country, all else is the foreign country
Beautifully expressed
Gilbert is so good. It waits. Deep in our hearts. Our poetry will arise in a place that is not the mind. It patiently and mysteriously waits there and slowly it becomes our lives.
The former poetry editor of the NYer once told me that she would not hear from
Gilbert for years and then he would send her a poem that would just floor her. Seems somehow to make sense.
"or not"
It will not, a while yet. "Miles to go before we sleep." The Soul is Timeless, and can endure it all.
I am 77 years old and suffering the same malady that my dad suffered:, friends are dying from natural causes. As I await my turn, I find myself singing to myself songs Ditties and TV commercials. We got our TV in 1947, and ever since, I have been a passive follower of commercials for everything frim healthy cigarettes to Oscar Meyer songs aand I find myself wondering that when I finish my repertoire I will pass. -Amen-
In between moments are where the poems live.
Nina Simone wrote a quote years ago that "when listening to music, the melody is in the spacing between the notes not the notes themselves
The combination is a piece of the riddle that is as yet unspoken
Hauntingly beautiful.
Yes. The heart speaks a language we translate. The rhythm is heard between beats while we wait for the music to end.
Very appropriate for me, right now!
It is....
The link betwen 'home ' and salvation. there's no loss as long as we have hope
Such beauty in the art of expressing the in between and repetition without being tiresome.
A Winter's Tale holds many pathways. Dave P
The heart is waiting for truth such as this egalitarian sentiment.Dave P
Really excellent selection.
something IS stirring
I read this poem several times to get its meaning. It called to mind Samuel Beckett's "Waiting for Godot". This two-act tragedy-comedy play from the fifties appears to have a similar message, yet I am not sure. The play is about pointlessness and repetitiveness in modern life (theatre of the absurd). The two men continue to wait day after day for Godot (change for the better) but he doesn't show up.
9 years since a threatening diagnosis??...other thoughts?
Heart warming words. Loved it
A tribute/inspiration to Ferlinghetti's "I Am Waiting"?? Or am I just projecting?