A Luminous Halo

"Life is not a series of gig lamps symmetrically arranged; life is a luminous halo, a semi-transparent envelope surrounding us from the beginning of consciousness to the end." --Virginia Woolf

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Location: Springfield, Massachusetts, United States

Smith ’69, Purdue ’75. Anarchist; agnostic. Writer. Steward of the Pascal Emory house, an 1871 Second-Empire Victorian; of Sylvie, a 1974 Mercedes-Benz 450SL; and of Taz, a purebred Cockador who sets the standard for her breed. Happy enough for the present in Massachusetts, but always looking East.

Tuesday, December 05, 2006

Bad Poetry: Common Bond

I feel that in these weekly postings of bad poetry I've been giving entirely too much press to the Victorians. In fact, very bad poetry is still being cranked out at a frightening rate. Poetry is like a shameful secret for many--it's surprising how few people, really, have not at one time or another been so full of emotion that they have felt driven to compose verses.

This poem was sent to me about six years ago by a dear friend I left behind when I came back to Massachusetts. She was separated, then divorced, and looking for romance, often in chat rooms. Someone whose online persona she was very attracted to sent her this. She loved it. I'm not quite sure why this guy is so partial to italics. And I'm almost afraid to guess what the "lurking missile" is. But, hey--that's what's so powerful about poetry. It makes you think.

“COMMON BOND”

‘Twas “Tales Of Mystery” by Poe…
That “sparked” the discourse ‘tween we two
But, that’s not all…we’ll have you know…
We’ve “shared” some poems…and more than few!

Our “common bond”…the “fruit” of pain…
Rejected by those “dear” to us
The “music” gone…no last “refrain”…
A love “cut short”…so often thus!

Our “wounded hearts”…in prose “cry out”…
A “need” to set the “record” straight
Let every “line” in triumph “shout”…
We’re “hurting”, yes…but, we’ll not “hate”!

We’ll still “forge” on…content to know…
We gave our best despite the “cost”
It’s “times” like these that help us “grow”…
Were nothing “ventured”…nothing “lost”!

We’ve “shared” a laugh…a “tale” or two…
Comparing “notes” on “lessons” learned
We’ve “penned” some lines as “poets” do…
And then “signed off”…our “chats” adjourned!

Tomorrow is another day..
Will “46” have “words” for me?
We “share” this number on “e-Bay”!
New friends emerge through one small “fee”!

So long as our computer “works”…
It’s nice to know…come “snow” or “hail”…
That just off “screen”…a “missile” lurks…
“R.J.” and “Kim”…Hey, you’ve “got mail”!

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2 Comments:

Blogger Cicily Corbett said...

well, in that case, it's a freudian slip. he only wishes he had a big "missile" lurking offscreen for her.

2:26 AM  
Anonymous Anonymous said...

I agree about the nature of the slip. After all, on a standard keyboard, "l" and "v" are pretty far apart.

I remember corresponding with a fellow named Mihnea, who complained that a lot of people mistyped his name Minhea. I told him that he'd have to learn to deal with it, because (a) it's an unusual name for us English-speaking chaps to write at all and (b) n is very close to h on the keyboard, making the mistake an easy one.

But "v" and "l"? Sorry. Something else was on his mind. "Offscreen" even seems to be a good 21st century figure for the unconscious.

4:32 PM  

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