Dragonfly's Poetry & Prolixity: Gravity by Andrea Gibson

Showing posts with label Gravity by Andrea Gibson. Show all posts

Thursday, March 15, 2012

Gravity by Andrea Gibson

"The Madness Vase" by Andrea Gibson

I have most of Ms. Gibson's books on CD as she's such an incredible slam poet, but this one is amazing in print, and I think this is her best book yet. 'Gravity' is my favorite short poem in the book.

Gravity

By Andrea Gibson

We wear our traumas

the way the guillotine

wears gravity.

Our lovers' necks

are so soft.

From: "The Madness Vase"

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Spring is in full swing here in the swamp at Casa Dragonfly. Winter forgot us completely this year. Now if only spring fever will kick my ass in gear. I hope wherever you are, you're enjoying beautiful weather. Time for me to go and hang my Hummingbird feeders now. Take care....

Love & Hugs,

Marion

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"Springtime is the land awakening. The March winds are the morning yawn." ~Quoted by Lewis Grizzard in Kathy Sue Loudermilk, I Love You

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"Spring has returned. The Earth is like a child that knows poems." ~Rainer Maria Rilke

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I Love Lorrie Moore!!

“You’re not a poetess, I hope,” said the English geologist next to her. “We had a poetess here last month, and things got a bit dodgy here for the rest of us.”

“Really.” After the soup, there was risotto with squid ink.

“Yes. She kept referring to insects as ‘God’s typos’ and then she kept us all after dinner one evening so she could read from her poems, which seemed to consist primarily of the repeating line ‘the hairy kiwi of his balls.’”

From: “Birds of America” by Lorrie Moore, page 266, ‘Terrific Mother’

Miranda July's Best Book:

"Do you have doubts about life? Are you unsure if it is worth the trouble? Look at the sky: that is for you. Look at each person's face as you pass on the street: those faces are for you. And the street itself, and the ground under the street, and the ball of fire underneath the ground: all these things are for you. They are as much for you as they are for other people. Remember this when you wake up in the morning and think you have nothing. Stand up and face the east. Now praise the sky and praise the light within each person under the sky. It's okay to be unsure. But praise, praise, praise." From: "No One Belongs Here More Than You Stories by Miranda July", Page 11

A Dreamy, Drug of a Book

"The minute you land in New Orleans, something wet and dark leaps on you and starts humping you like a swamp dog in heat, and the only way to get that aspect of New Orleans off you is to eat it off. That means beignets and crayfish bisque and jambalaya, it means shrimp remoulade, pecan pie and red beans with rice, it means elegant pompano au papillote, funky file z'herbes, and raw oysters by the dozen, it means grillades for breakfast, a po' boy with chowchow at bedtime, and tubs of gumbo in between. It is not unusual for a visitor to the city to gain fifteen pounds in a week---yet the alternative is a whole lot worse. If you don't eat night and day, if you don't constantly funnel the indigenous flavors into your bloodstream, then the mystery beast will go right on humping you, and you will feel its sordid presence rubbing against you long after you have left town." ~Tom Robbins, "Jitterbug Perfume", page 240