When I watch TV news programs for a few minutes, it seems I see a lot of mental illness. I sometimes wonder about my own sanity. I think the basic definition of insanity is being out of touch with reality. Applying that to, say, America today, the home of the brave and the land of the free seems like a giant nuthouse. A southern belle I met online several years ago, and since then we have had many conversations on FB, as she has no telephone, once shared a poem that fell out of her in a dark time, which I told her today, I hoped someone read at her wake.
"Pigs In Mud"
All want the security of the well fed pig.
Horror at the baseness unrecognized.
A lifetime spent in shirt stuffing.
And pen comparison.
Is truth more palatable when honeyed?
Is a stark soulscape less so with the eyes of Monet?
This poem captures the emotional resonance of October and autumn as well as any I've read. Not just a standard celebration of fall colors and cooling weather etc. but a real, deep entanglement of subjectivity and objectivity in the fact of the month's and the season's palpable experiential presence, as processed and communicated through the lens of a sensitively observant human being.
I like how the opening part "Books litter the bed..." and the closing line "The books of fall litter the bed." connect and sort of close a loop of sorts. On my walk this morning experienced something similar with gray overcast skies and the wind stripping the leaves from many trees. Love that photo as the one tree (Maple?) next to the red barn is doing its best to hold onto their leaves while others around are nearly bare.
When I watch TV news programs for a few minutes, it seems I see a lot of mental illness. I sometimes wonder about my own sanity. I think the basic definition of insanity is being out of touch with reality. Applying that to, say, America today, the home of the brave and the land of the free seems like a giant nuthouse. A southern belle I met online several years ago, and since then we have had many conversations on FB, as she has no telephone, once shared a poem that fell out of her in a dark time, which I told her today, I hoped someone read at her wake.
"Pigs In Mud"
All want the security of the well fed pig.
Horror at the baseness unrecognized.
A lifetime spent in shirt stuffing.
And pen comparison.
Is truth more palatable when honeyed?
Is a stark soulscape less so with the eyes of Monet?
May my affectations always be understood.
boy that's an interesting thing.
This poem captures the emotional resonance of October and autumn as well as any I've read. Not just a standard celebration of fall colors and cooling weather etc. but a real, deep entanglement of subjectivity and objectivity in the fact of the month's and the season's palpable experiential presence, as processed and communicated through the lens of a sensitively observant human being.
This is my favorite world to be in! I wish October could last another month.
Very very beautiful. I like the photo of the poet. He looks troubled, but writes like an angel.
Interesting a friend of mine here on substack community as well
We do not often think of these autumn leaves that litter books
Distinct portraits in September colours
Thanks to Outlaws for this poetry
I like how the opening part "Books litter the bed..." and the closing line "The books of fall litter the bed." connect and sort of close a loop of sorts. On my walk this morning experienced something similar with gray overcast skies and the wind stripping the leaves from many trees. Love that photo as the one tree (Maple?) next to the red barn is doing its best to hold onto their leaves while others around are nearly bare.
Love how sparse this poem is, and end of season falling vibes move me
Didn't think much of that. Too many repeated motifs and "this pear tastes good" is a throw away line.
I liked the idea if leaves and books falling. Agree about the pear line. Is this a poetic form ? Its almost a Japanese sound
Unpatterned is its loveliest feature.
Rain and books...take two and call me in the morning. Fantastic.
my impression of October fwiw...
A Phoenix prowls through the neighborhood
as trees sing in multicolored flames...
Fall and rain falling
Crispy Apples and
The leaves falling
Evokes a sense of refreshing and rejuvenation.
It is time for a new life!
Our News broadcasts are rife with Netanyahoo's mental illness and his succombing to its
aftermath....May the God-dess bring Thor's Hammer down on All of themselves.
and here a calm rain
almost all October
lots of water washing everything
great
I wish that
water move more and more every October from now on
still water under the river
don’t serve for fruit
Tender. Lovely.
Thank you!:)))