[stylist] stylist Digest, Vol 127, Issue 4

Tue Nov 4 13:42:00 UTC 2014

Hi, Bill,

Yes, what a beautiful poem..very striking images, sensory....it woke my
mind up this morning, got my day starting....thank you so much.

Helen

On Tue, Nov 4, 2014 at 7:00 AM, <stylist-request at nfbnet.org> wrote:

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> Today's Topics:
>
>    1. Re: An autumn poem (Jackie Williams)
>    2. Poem - (William L Houts)
>    3. Re: Poem - (Lynda Lambert)
>
>
> ----------------------------------------------------------------------
>
> Message: 1
> Date: Mon, 3 Nov 2014 20:40:51 -0700
> From: "Jackie Williams" <jackieleepoet at cox.net>
> To: <myrnaspoetry at yahoo.com>,   "'Writer's Division Mailing List'"
>         <stylist at nfbnet.org>
> Subject: Re: [stylist] An autumn poem
> Message-ID: <002101cff7e1$23aa9d80$6affd880$@cox.net>
> Content-Type: text/plain;       charset="us-ascii"
>
> Myrna,
> Another beautiful inspiring poem. So many memorable lines and phrases. You
> are a master.
> Jackie
>
>
> -----Original Message-----
> From: stylist [mailto:stylist-bounces at nfbnet.org] On Behalf Of
> myrnaspoetry--- via stylist
> Sent: Wednesday, October 29, 2014 9:34 AM
> To: Writer's Division Mailing List
> Subject: [stylist] An autumn poem
>
> Written a few years ago but still one my most favorite pieces I have ever
> written.
>
> Sweet Autumn
>
> O take me away, sweet autumn!
> Carry my thoughts upon whispers
> Of changing winds... or sing to me,
> Your dulcet chords of acceptance
> Fading into the melody of time's passage.
> Weep with me if you must.. seasons' memories
> Coursing down cheeks of tomorrow
> Where forgotten springs will dry our tears.
> Or simply sit in companionship... ah yes...
> Come read with me some poetry!
> Scatter rhyme upon the grounds of summer,
> Lay a vibrant blanket of crumpled moments
> Before winter's calling... let us sip
> Of contentment's wine and pass time together...
>
> O sweet autumn, take me away!
>
>
>
>
> _______________________________________________
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>
>
>
> ------------------------------
>
> Message: 2
> Date: Mon, 03 Nov 2014 23:28:57 -0800
> From: William L Houts <lukaeon at gmail.com>
> To: Writer's Division Mailing List <stylist at nfbnet.org>
> Subject: [stylist] Poem -
> Message-ID: <54588039.8010504 at gmail.com>
> Content-Type: text/plain; charset=ISO-8859-1; format=flowed
>
> HI Bards and Poets,
>
> Been away for some time, I guess.  Finally surfacing after solving some
> unusual access problems.  Anyway, hope all here are well and productive,
> assuming you want to be.
>
> As for me, the past few months have been extremely productive. Below is
> one of my favorites.  It's gone through some revision since I wrote it
> this summer, and I think this is the vest version so far.  Also, my work
> over the summer has, by design, been aimed at being somewhat less
> "literary" in my approach. Comments welcome, as always.
>
>
> --Bill
>
>
>
>
> ---
>
>
>
>
> *Alien*
>
> In the dream, I stood at an
>
> uncountable remove, in some canyon
>
> of red and earthlike rock.
>
> Before me, at twelve unblurred feet
>
> were a couple.They were
>
> not remotely human, and yet
>
> I sensed their minds or something deeper.
>
> they'd neither hands nor heads, and the female
>
> in her had a kind of hollow
>
> into which her mate would go, a pen or roost.
>
> They were boxlike, somehow, with short fur.
>
> And here's the great reveal:
>
> they knew I was there, and didn't mind.
>
> They were peaceful and decent in the most ordinary way:
>
> not saints, yetsacred, earnest folk,
>
> bearing gravity's grip without complaint.
>
> I might go or remain, they seemed to say,
>
> and all would be well. They were light years
>
> away, I think, and suppose they were real enough,
>
> convincing as thunder or suns.
>
> How could you know such things, you say.Poetry's fine,
>
> but we dwell on a rock among rocks
>
> in the black unhomely cold.
>
> Yet maybe the cosmos dreams us to each other
>
> I venture, across the stellar gulfs
>
> that we might abide for dreaming seconds
>
> in the presence of friends both strange
>
> and utterly dear; neighbors or kin like us:
>
> adrift on rocklike rafts in a dark and motherlike sea.
>
>
> WLH
> 8/14
>
>
>
>
>
> ------------------------------
>
> Message: 3
> Date: Tue, 4 Nov 2014 06:17:59 -0500
> From: "Lynda Lambert" <llambert at zoominternet.net>
> To: "William L Houts" <lukaeon at gmail.com>,      "Writer's Division Mailing
>         List" <stylist at nfbnet.org>
> Subject: Re: [stylist] Poem -
> Message-ID: <263239D4BFB3403189C71B2A36B2E26B at LyndaPC>
> Content-Type: text/plain; format=flowed; charset="iso-8859-1";
>         reply-type=response
>
> Hi Bill,
> I enjoyed reading your poem this morning as I sat in the dark room around 5
> am. I think the time of day and the aloneness of the pre-dawn reading of it
> was just the perfect time to encounter this poem. The others in the house
> this morning are fast asleep, it is just me and the cats here, moving
> around
> in the dream of my own reality.
> It gives me the sense of looking into a surreal painting. You "painted"
> images such as would be encountered in a surreal landscape painting. From
> the first words at the beginning of the poem, I had entered into that world
> as you took me through your experience layer by layer.
>
> It begins "in the dream," which is the perfect entrance into this  surreal
> world. You have given us a place to enter into your own dream by
> positioning
> yourself (the personna of the poem) in a "canyon of red and earthlike
> rock."
> I envisioned standing in Colorado at Red Rocks, or a similar place on
> earth.
> Yet, at the same time, you removed my comfort of being in a familiar place
> when you pair that thought with the reality that we are very far removed
> from what we are seeing and experiencing as you move forward taking us into
> your world.
> There is a strong sense of voyeurism and we continue to watch from that
> distance in both place and time. Actually, we have entered into
> timelessness, I felt.
> The place you describe is both other-worldly yet in some ways quite
> familiar.  And, I liked the matter-of-fact "voice" as the poet describes
> the
> dream/reality of the metaphysical space.
>
> I like this poem very much, Bill. You paced it perfectly and have given it
> breath and livingness.  And, you left me with imagery I will not soon
> forget
> and a question that I can continue to think about as I begin this day in
> November.
> You pose the question at the perfect place in this poem. And, it is a deep
> philosophical musing which I liked very much. I think your timing is just
> perfect in this poem. And, I am left with the continuing thought , "Yet
> maybe the cosmos dreams us to each other..." as my day begins.
>
> I look back once again to the title again and again, "Alien." Just what is
> an alien?  I think of what this word means and I continue meditating on the
> thought of who is the "alien!"
>
> I am not sure what you meant in your prelude to the poem when you said it
> is
> "less literary." Just the fact that it is a poem  (an excellent one, at
> that) gives it literary clothing.  It is the work of a poet with concerns
> and something to say that is meaningful and timely.
> I could go on, but I think this poem holds  the very essence of what
> "literary"  means, Bill.  No apologies please, for having a thoughful mind
> and an imaginative spirit in your writing.
>
> Lynda McKinney Lambert
>
> -----Original Message-----
> From: William L Houts via stylist
> Sent: Tuesday, November 04, 2014 2:28 AM
> To: Writer's Division Mailing List
> Subject: [stylist] Poem -
>
> HI Bards and Poets,
>
> Been away for some time, I guess.  Finally surfacing after solving some
> unusual access problems.  Anyway, hope all here are well and productive,
> assuming you want to be.
>
> As for me, the past few months have been extremely productive. Below is
> one of my favorites.  It's gone through some revision since I wrote it
> this summer, and I think this is the vest version so far.  Also, my work
> over the summer has, by design, been aimed at being somewhat less
> "literary" in my approach. Comments welcome, as always.
>
>
> --Bill
>
>
>
>
> ---
>
>
>
>
> *Alien*
>
> In the dream, I stood at an
>
> uncountable remove, in some canyon
>
> of red and earthlike rock.
>
> Before me, at twelve unblurred feet
>
> were a couple.They were
>
> not remotely human, and yet
>
> I sensed their minds or something deeper.
>
> they'd neither hands nor heads, and the female
>
> in her had a kind of hollow
>
> into which her mate would go, a pen or roost.
>
> They were boxlike, somehow, with short fur.
>
> And here's the great reveal:
>
> they knew I was there, and didn't mind.
>
> They were peaceful and decent in the most ordinary way:
>
> not saints, yet sacred, earnest folk,
>
> bearing gravity's grip without complaint.
>
> I might go or remain, they seemed to say,
>
> and all would be well. They were light years
>
> away, I think, and suppose they were real enough,
>
> convincing as thunder or suns.
>
> How could you know such things, you say.Poetry's fine,
>
> but we dwell on a rock among rocks
>
> in the black unhomely cold.
>
> Yet maybe the cosmos dreams us to each other
>
> I venture, across the stellar gulfs
>
> that we might abide for dreaming seconds
>
> in the presence of friends both strange
>
> and utterly dear; neighbors or kin like us:
>
> adrift on rocklike rafts in a dark and motherlike sea.
>
>
> WLH
> 8/14
>
>
>
> _______________________________________________
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> http://writers.nfb.org/
> stylist mailing list
> stylist at nfbnet.org
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> stylist:
>
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>
>
>
>
> ------------------------------
>
> Subject: Digest Footer
>
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>
> ------------------------------
>
> End of stylist Digest, Vol 127, Issue 4
> ***************************************
>