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Pastimes : Calling all SI Poets -- Ignore unavailable to you. Want to Upgrade?

To: Volsi Mimir who wrote (1702)	4/3/1999 4:39:00 PM
From: Susan Saline	Read Replies (1) \| Respond to of 2095

those are deep

To: Volsi Mimir who wrote (1702)	4/4/1999 3:42:00 AM
From: Volsi Mimir	Read Replies (2) \| Respond to of 2095

Never offer your Heart to someone who eats Hearts Alice Walker Never offer your heart to someone who eats hearts who finds heartmeat delicious but not rare who sucks the juices drop by drop and bloody-chinned grins like a God. Never offer your heart to a heart gravy lover. Your stewed, overseasoned heart consumed he[she] will sop up your grief with bread and send it shuttling from side to side in his mouth like bubblegum. If you find yourself in love with a person who eats hearts these things you must do: Freeze your heart immediately. Let him--next time he examines your chest-- find your heart cold flinty and unappetizing. Refrain from kissing lest he in revenge dampen the spark in your soul. Now, sail away to Africa where holy women await you on the shore-- long having practiced the art of replacing hearts with God and Song. ---==--- [i just learned that- why do i always learn the hard way?] the hard way burns and scars deep. feel it. numb to the pain.[lies] just don't want to show 'em. why? i ........don't know go ahead ......hurt me.[lies] at least i won't forget.] guess i'll just listen to this here music.... John Hammond, Junior Wells "driftin blues" "dreamy eyed girl" Buddy Guy- THE MAN. "Help me"- sonny boy williamson i gotta dust off that Edwin Starr stuff.... that time ...... again. ---==--- AFRICA!? Two poems from Trauits de la nuit Jean Joseph Rabéarivelo Madagascar- from Novelle Anthologie de la poésie négre et malgache- LS Senghor-1948 and Modern Poetry of Africa -Moore & Beler 1963 She whose eyes are prisms of sleep and whose lids are heavy with dreams, she whose feet are planted in the sea and whose shiny hands appear full of corals and blocks of shining salt, She will put them in little heaps beside a misty gulf and sell them to naked sailors whose tongues have been cut out, until the rain begins to fall. Then she will disappear and we shall only see her hair spread by the wind like a bunch of seaweed unravelling, and perhaps some tasteless grains of salt. ---==--- The black glassmaker whose countless eyeballs none has ever seen, whose shoulders none has overlooked, that slave all clothed in pearls of glass, who is strong as Atlas and who carries the seven skies on his head, one would think that the vast river of clouds might carry him away, the river in which his loincloth is already wet. A thousand particles of glass fall from his hands but rebound towards his brow shattered by the mountains where the winds are born. And you are witness of his daily suffering and of his endless task; you watch his thunder-riddled agony until the battlements of the East re-echo the conches of the sea-- but you pity him no more and do not even remember that his sufferings begin again each time the sun capsizes.