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Pastimes : Let's Talk About Our Feelings!!! -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?


To: Daniel W. Koehler who wrote (17218)1/28/1998 1:13:00 PM
From: Grainne  Read Replies (1) | Respond to of 108807
 
Daniel, you might be able to offer an interesting perspective on Bill Clinton, because you live in Little Rock and have met him. While everyone in America who is interested in politics is trying to sort through this amazing story which is unfolding, there seems to be a huge schism developing, not only in public opinion as to whether he "boinked" Monica, but as to the deeper realities that exist behind the stories.

While 77% of Americans still approve of Clinton's performance as president--which is actually quite shocking considering that this country seems to be coming more conservative, generally--the far left and the far right both seem to feel that there is a conspiracy against them. I think we all know of Hillary's recent statements on the matter, coming from the left. On the right, there seems to be a fairly large group of people who honestly believe that the Clintons are evil enough to deal drugs and murder people--a lot of people!!

Having been closer to the situation than most of us, do you believe the Clintons are really capable of crimes like this? And what do you think of this extreme split and polarization?

I am an occasional writer of overly emotional, pretty bad poetry. But I'm working on it!!! Some people around here were kind enough to say they liked this one, about a woman at a crossroads in her life:

The Heart Wants What It Wants

Summer seared hot with intrigue, laughter and playful hugs
Giggly girls and glimmering warm seawater and Gaia love rugs
and seemed to stretch on, shimmering and endless
Vegetarians of love entering the realm of the senses

I danced while freesia candles burned, sipping mango tea
Spinning in a see-through dress whirling gracefully, diaphanously
Symphonies and sad love songs played on endlessly
Like waves softly lapping against a beach on the Tasman sea

Now the year ebbs and jasmine blooms die and the moon wanes
My nightmares horrors of wheelchair love and death and pain
On my Christmas tree dangle amethysts, starfish and strands of pearls
Ornaments strung with question marks of other worlds

I look up at freezing wintery stars but feel young and hot and wild
And gaze stunned into a home fire which smothers me but warms my child
Raindrops cloud my beloved crystals and I cannot see
But I know I'm not the woman I wanted to be

At the moment I am trying to get through several books by minor, contemporary Irish poets. I do like to post poetry here sometimes, just because I think some of it is so beautiful. Here is one by a poet I really enjoy at the moment:

Process

The structure of process,
time's gullet devouring
parents whose children
are swallowed in turn,
families, houses, towns,
built or battered down,
only the earth and sky
unchanging in change,
everything else fragile
as a wild bird's wing;
bulldozer and butterfuly,
dogrose and snowflake
climb the unending stair
into God's golden eye.

Everyone close in his own
world of sense & memory,
races, countries closed
in their dream of history,
only love, or friendship,
an absorbing discipline--
the healing harmonies
of music, painting, the poem--
as swaying ropeladders
across fuming oblivion
while the globe turns,
and the stars turn, and
the great circles shine,
gold & silver
sun & moon.

John Montague