Skip to main content

Muse of Poetry

Yesterday Michel read some of "Paradise Lost" Milton. I really enjoyed it. Then he told me that in all Epic poems the writer begins by calling a muse for inspiration. 
I told him that every Sunday he and I should read our favorite thing of the week to each other. I just read Earnest Hemingway's first short story. "Up in Michigan" which he wrote in Paris in 1921. 
It's was like a slap in the face.

 I think it speaks to the truth about how men are different from women in love and life. And that maybe every young woman should have this read to them as a bedtime story. 

Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

CranioSacral therapy 1

I just took a 4 day intensive class on CranioSacral therapy.  A Doctor of Osteopathy, Upledger, discovered that there is a rhythmic flow of cerebro-spinal fluid between the cranium and sacrum.  The flow can be felt and even manipulated to relieve pain. This has been something I've wanted to learn for a long time. Some of my teachers at both acupuncture and massage school loved this type of therapy and gave dramatic demo's often leading to a crying student. Crying but feeling better. The therapy is very very light so the crying was a mystery to me. The class was taught by a man that, to my great surprise, I had worked with at a clinic in Chicago ten years ago. He used to eat my snacks while I was in a room with a client. I'd come out of the room and find an empty bag.  He lives in Iowa on a transcendental meditation commune where the residents meditate for world peace. They must share snacks. There were several volunteer teaching assistants. They all introduced themse...
3 comments
Read more

Irony "the song of the bird that loves its cage"

Michel has gone back to work teaching High school this week. For his last weekend of freedom I left him to do what he most wanted to do. So he went in the the basement to sculpt. He is in terrible need of a head to sculpt and no heads have volunteered so I reluctantly offered my own. As a woman who is a victim of our media and culture's war on women's self esteems, this is not my idea of a fun thing.   I tried to read "Infinite Jest" by David Foster Wallace. In other words we hid from the world as usual. He, or DFW,  was raved about in a recent class I took.  I'm arriving late to the hip party of his fandom, but I want to see what all the hubbub is about. I'm hooked. The book is as thick as a brick. But reading him or listening to him is like weight lifting for the brain.  It is hard work, but it feels like the brain is better for it. As though I feel an afterglow similar to after a run. From what I can understand The protagonist is not being u...
3 comments
Read more

Traveling Molly's

I went to a poetry reading last night http://myemail.constantcontact.com/May-9-at-The-Buzz-Cafe--Molly-s-features-Timothy-Yu-and-Donna-Vorreyer.html?soid=1103180195612&aid=QRNC3gtxue4 I went with Jean, one of my nine or so muses. She is a poet and has had several poems published. Jean in the foreground and Donna Vorreyer reading in the background And I read a poem I wrote about my boyfriend Michel Ode to Michel (my bell) Michel was a black and white picture. Even taken with color film. Achromatic and anachronistic it turned out he spent most of his life looking into old books and reading older texts. So many that he too was black and white. His hair made up of black or white letters, a language lost today. His eyes periods.. His smile in quotes. His front teeth old tablets. Perhaps of Moses. His skin Papyrus, only sees the sun when running from one book to another He told me he was reading The Aeneid by Publius Virgilius Maro, in Latin. He told me that ...
2 comments
Read more