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T'shuva T'fillah T'zedak.. Eureka / United States, Female, 72
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    T'shuva T'fillah T'zedaka Shalom's last comments on poems and poets

    • (7/29/2010 1:51:00 AM)

      Since I believe the premise of existence is that we are God’s dream and alas, sometimes nightmare, there has to be eternal dissatisfaction in that end of the spectrum, as it were and if you will. Human consciousness containing God consciousness is a continuous in and out process of what’s real and what shouldn’t be, and how we the characters in our dream, our existence, should question it and better yet, change it. Eastern mystics break the God process down to creation, preservation and destruction which basically is what God-given nature does all of the time. About this profound poem, in particular, YP, I tend to want to see or experience my first response to the words as their meaning flows out of you and into the reader (me) from a literal perception. Your comrades or familiars have spoken well and in depth to your line of thought. I’m in line with those readers’ understanding(s) .
      I also tend to want to define and deconstruct the poem’s words individually, and wonder at the pairings. Torso being the Trunk without Limbs(movement) or Head(thought apparatus for ego self driven by lie, lay, lain) Shod pairing with sleep intriguing as one associates shod with shoe. Metaphorically Sleep is what transports here without the ego self superimposing misguided direction, false sense. Walking or running. Taking it on the lam. From what’s real or not real. The reigns drawing this being is truth.
      Doubt ridden awake, our shared mortal state of affairs, current, that is, and I fear and it sucks.

      So eternal the dissatisfaction, yeah, makes sense. In the eye (I) of desire. In the sense organ, the eye and the sense being, the (I/self) . Wondering what is real, This wounded dream (God’s dream) You. Aka dust bunny, again You. No disrespect. Just saying.

      When I was reviewing my definitions, I came across lain in an interesting context as follows:
      in Mesopotamian religion, Sumerian deity, city god of Girsu, east of Ur in the southern orchards region. Damu, son of Enki, was a vegetation god, especially of the vernal flowing of the sap of trees and plants. His name means “The Child, ” and his cult—apparently celebrated primarily by women—centred on the lamentation and search for Damu, who had lain under the bark of his nurse, the cedar tree, and had disappeared. The search finally ended when the god reappeared out of the river…” Anyway all this talk about trunk, limbs—I like your poem and Trusting Within is probably a better bet than Doubting Without.

      Amazing that your few words that say succinctly what you mean engenders so much verbosity from one sleepy head (somewhat attached to trunk and limbs all lain out ready to dream being awake or awake being to dream) . Thank you for inviting me to comment on something I know nothing about, really. I read and was taken in with this wonderful poem earlier today.

    • POEM: Risdael Blue by gershon hepner (11/4/2009 8:25:00 PM)

      Very nice, Thank You. Keen observations and juxtapositions of these two remarkable artists and their contrasting visual accuities