[stylist] Poem -

Tue Nov 4 18:01:24 UTC 2014

Hi Linda,

Thanks so much for your thoughtful response to my poem, "Alien". I had 
that dream about eight years or so ago and it's haunted me all that 
time, as you can see.  Even now, I have the sense that I was granted a 
peek into the lifeways of some whole other kind of people.  They were so 
strange, a child might have screamed, but they were so peaceful, it was 
a great pleasure to visit them, whehter or not they were merely the 
figments of a dream.  Again, thanks so much for your comments.

--Bill

On 11/4/2014 3:17 AM, Lynda Lambert wrote:
> 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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-- 

"Oh, Sophie!  Whyfore have you eated all de cheeldren?"