Intro 4: Take me home Posted by David Emeron on Monday, October 6th, 2014 bring me home home to where you are my heart aches Permalink Rate this:Share:FlattrMoreEmailFacebookLinkedInPinterestPocketPrintRedditTumblrTwitterLike this:Like Loading... Related
So few words
To say so much.
And you well know what they mean and how she should have felt.
home is where
after all these
years, we are
still trying to
figure out the
I believe science is getting a bit closer to understanding such things; however one needs only look to history for a clue regarding the direction to pursue in ones research. I am very happy to hear that, of late, scientists are partnering themselves with historians for such purposes. And, in this, I do mean true historians, not the “armchair” variety; those willing to delve through countess basements and closets and attics, and sort through untold dusty reams of unsorted papers, to get at the truth of the past.
are just inked
way traces of
an old romance
meditation on the
when your lips
are this close,
a way back
Such a lovely answer.
thank you – delve into any palimpsests lately?
Alas, I am no historian! : )
not even the armchair variety? (smile)
Perhaps a bit : )
Though the scope of my knowledge is quite uneven. Still I am very fortunate to have the fond acquaintance of one among the real variety, and two more of perhaps the most accomplished of the other variety.
My sweetheart has been of both varieties. Although I have travelled very little, even when compared to most in the US, my dearest wife, when she–when we–were much younger, would think nothing of travelling halfway around to globe to pore through unsorted papers in the basement of some unconsecrated church or other unusual building. Often she would return not only with new perspective and understanding, but also having portfolios of rubbings to dazzle and mystify.
And, sadly, in those days, I hardly understood what the fuss was all about. I have no excuse to offer for this save my callow youth; in those days I was little interested in such things. But as you might suspect, love changed all that; and, not long after, I was writing sonnets and studying the universe from the perspective–as much as possible–as she to whom I gave all my love.
Oh, my darling, darling, boy. Your world of science fascinated me just as much as you came to be fascinated by my world later. I find lasers as interesting as brass rubbings and that is much because of you, my love.
The poetry you write and the music you play and compose is all so exquisite.
Perhaps in the eye of the beholder? But even so, it is you, my sweet beholder, whose view is, to me, the most precious of all.
so very lovely. My heart (my home) is in Japan. I have felt an ever since he went home. so few words but somehow, they say all that is in my heart. I could not have expressed this in such a way and I thank you for speaking for me.
I have felt this from you from the beginning, I think, or nearly so; and even if I had not, I would have been able to see it from the word you skipped in your second sentence. I feel that the empty space in your words communicates that missing place within you much more eloquently than would any word you might have inserted into that space.
It is the reason I have only very gingerly read and tried to ascertain your life’s story as you present it. I do, i confess, have trouble with my own feelings when I read about the pain of others. This is partly because my brain–hence, my mind–is not entirely neuro-typical owing to a number of unconnected events; but mostly due to the nature of my own feelings, and the events of my own life.
As is anything obtained which is highly prized, my happiness did not come easily, foolish youth that I once was, which can be seen–and which I feel I may have communicated to you–in my writing in whatever state it may be found.
Before we became “your fairytale couple,” Much did we learn and many prices did we pay. Both of us.
You are blessed to be now in that fairy tale couple. It takes much work, dedication and a love that is measureless. He and I were the fairy tale couple for 8 lovely amazing years. He has never married. It’s all there in the three parts of the Samurai and the Wren and in many poems. I am married now and love my husband dearly. He is different and the love is different. I’ve learned you can love two people deeply – the heart has so many rooms! I have a problem with the pain of others because I feel so deeply, so want to take away the pain. I know I can’t although I have been able to assuage sometimes. A rare few times, I have actually helped the healing. that is something for which I am grateful.
I like your “new” shorter poems – your sonnets transcend but these of few words speak volumes.
I like knowing you and the lovely fairy wife are together. It gives me a peace to know such love still exists.
A friend of mine stays in touch with love and through the years, has visited him in Japan. Only recently have I asked questions. I am told through the years my love has asked questions and wanted to know about my life. Jeff tells me his eyes still shine with love – it sort of reminds me of Casablanca – the love that will go on even though the people, in their bodies, are apart. But souls always as one.
I have been approaching your story very gingerly. I feel I may be able to delve more deeply.
As to the shorter poems, they have a story all their own. They began simply as a whimsical way to introduce each sonnet. Very often that are nothing more than a short sentence “shoehorned,” as it were into haiku, or some other short form. But over time, I have spent a bit more, and sometimes, quite a bit more time on them.
I have long felt they were perhaps confusing to the site, seeming to be largely ill-considered entries juxtaposed with sonnets. I am not so sure it is clear that they are introductions.
I would not mind–in fact, I would very much like–your thoughts on this if and when you have a moment to consider this vexing problem which I, alas, may only view from one side.
I do not find the problem vexing, but then, I am on this side! The shorter poems to me were not confusing; rather, I read and absorbed them in situ.
On my site, which is a mishmash of various and sundry, I write haiku, tanka, free form poetry, and prose. I let what is in my heart move the pen. There is no reason why sonnets and haiku cannot live together in perfect harmony.
I write haiku more often than other forms because I am striving to express the essence of something. the Japanese call this Mono no aware (もののあはれ). It translates as the “the pathos of things,” or “a sensitivity to ephemera,” it is a wistfulness at the passing of things.
I try to strip away the extraneous and bring to light, that feeling within in, or a season, weather, love. Cherry blossoms in their time bloom fully and with a joyous abundance, but in a day the petals begin to fall and soon the branches are bare of the blooms. “the passing of things” – being a breath away from perfection.
It is like looking over the surface of a calm pond, covered with water lilies. Seeing all the blooms and then – finding the one yellow lily in the crowd of pink and white. Isolating the one and bringing it to glory, stripping away the lilies from around it. For just that moment, that one bloom is perfect and glorious and unique…then it begins to fade. But oh! the passion of that one.
Being a southern girl, I look at things oft times, in a southern way. To me, sonnets are magnolia blooms – lush, fragrant, glowing in the moonlight. Haiku are gardenias. Smaller, fragrantly imbuing the night with their unseen presence. Both the gardenia and the magnolia are sisters – same family of plant, different in form and appearance and fragrance. In our yard, there were several large magnolia trees and quite a few gardenia bushes. Our house was always filled with vases of both during their season. There was no competition between them for attention – one simply walked into the room and noticed one or the other first, smelled one or the other first, and discovered the second. Both gave enjoyment, serenity, awareness.
Do not worry about folks being confused. Either they will sort it out or not. As long as you are true to your art, there is no matter if one is large magnolia in a vase or a gardenia in a buttonhole.e
I thank you so for your wise words.
You are welcome. Hope they helped. BTW: