Tuesday, August 08, 2006

Like Juliet

give me a soliloquy to shed those water logged
words that creep through the hypothalmus
sometimes that even seep into the marrow of who

who it is that tortures the cells consisting of water,
nucleus and that in-between, it’s all that in-between
which separates, barricades like a city street arson show

show me the mirror you look into on Mondays that reflects
this drowning, wants-to-be-swimming tadpole
shimmering to the side of the baby food jar like it’s first grade

grade me on my speeches, they have been countless
these failed efforts at writing your languagestruggling to speak Hooked on, Suffering, Hopelessness

10 Comments:

Blogger Plus Ultra said...

An extremely good poem, will need time to chew on this and digest it well...so that it will go to my marrow and into the nuclei...

Wednesday, August 09, 2006 6:34:00 PM  
Blogger Letajo said...

Thank you, Plus, honored to have your comments here in my little midwestern USA space.

Thursday, August 10, 2006 10:02:00 AM  
Blogger Plus Ultra said...

Can I put you on my links?

Saturday, August 12, 2006 7:18:00 AM  
Blogger Letajo said...

absolutely, please do

Saturday, August 12, 2006 4:03:00 PM  
Blogger bittersweet said...

fragmented imagery makes the frustration more intense, especially so in the last line.
i'm left with a feeling that i'm not understanding this 100% - but i'm guessing that is the point of this poem... (?) :)

thanks for the recent visit btw

- Cheryl

Saturday, August 12, 2006 9:57:00 PM  
Blogger Clifford Duffy said...

"who it is that tortures the cells consisting of water,
nucleus and that in-between, it’s all that in-between
which separates, barricades like a city street arson show"

Hello, I found one of your poems at the bucket blog and at the ezboard, anyhow,
I find that line i've quoted aboveto be absolutely shockingly good, and not only that,it's true, it has an almost biblical tone which underlines or pervades the sense of what is being said. Well you see,where I am commenting from it is very early and I am quite tired, and would say more, but alas,for now, I won't.

Monday, August 14, 2006 4:44:00 AM  
Blogger Clifford Duffy said...

I had to that comment:

"grade me on my speeches, they have been countless
these failed efforts at writing your languagestruggling to speak Hooked on, Suffering, Hopelessness " I like the way you cap the last words to enhance or really not enhance but actually bring out the meaning, or to use slang, to how the caps, jack out the meaning and intensity of what's being spoken.

grade me on my speeches" i mean that is a really nice counterpoint to the original Juliet's lover's sweet sung speech.

Monday, August 14, 2006 4:51:00 AM  
Blogger Letajo said...

Clifford,
Thank you so much for your comments. I am glad you found me through the bucket blog, a fabulous little nook to search out cyber poetry at its best. I look forward to reading yours.
I am really pleased at your comemnts as you seem to really hear what I'm trying to say, the confusion of these pathetic languages that are Hopeless, Suffering, etc...
So nice to see you here.

Monday, August 14, 2006 9:01:00 AM  
Blogger Clifford Duffy said...

This comment has been removed by a blog administrator.

Tuesday, August 15, 2006 11:20:00 AM  
Blogger Clifford Duffy said...

Letajo, for me reading a given poem is almost , let's say, re-composing it for myself.

I like this phrase 'the/marrow of who' I like the hard 'earthy'almost primitive sense of the word marrow in comparison to the more abstract pronoun who. I wouldn't be the first to say that English poetry flows best in the energy that works the differences between the specific sense of Anglo-Saxon rooted words and the more abstract sense of Latin & Greek cognates. It's strange, because in Latin and Greek these words are not in the least abstract, but when they got carried over into English it changed.

I think a reader enters into a con-versation with a poem, especially if they happen to be a writer. So when I am able to enter a poem in that way, then I guess I am on the right path. It's a careful business this poetry business, and what seems electric today, seems half-asleep the next. When I say on the right path, I don't mean that I have the supposed true interpretation of a poem, but that I am reading it in a meaningful way for myself. See you at the ezboard and elsewhere...

Tuesday, August 15, 2006 11:29:00 AM  

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