Poets, Players, Passionate Phrases....

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gXzFhe6V0X8

"The Devil"

By Polly Jean Harvey

As soon as I'm left alone
The devil wanders into my soul

And I pretend to myself

And I pretend to myself

I go out
To the old milestone
Insanely expecting
You to come there

Knowing that I wait for you there
That I wait for you there

Come!

Come!

Come here at once

Come!

Come!

On a night with no moon

Because all of my being is now in pining
All of my being is now in pining

What formerly had cheered me
Now seems

Insignificant

Insignificant


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How to Read a Poem: Beginner's Manual

by Pamela Spiro Wagner


First, forget everything you have learned,
that poetry is difficult,
that it cannot be appreciated by the likes of you,
with your high school equivalency diploma,
your steel-tipped boots,
or your white-collar misunderstandings.

Do not assume meanings hidden from you:
the best poems mean what they say and say it.
To read poetry requires only courage
enough to leap from the edge
and trust.

Treat a poem like dirt,
humus rich and heavy from the garden.
Later it will become the fat tomatoes
and golden squash piled high upon your kitchen table.

Poetry demands surrender,
language saying what is true,
doing holy things to the ordinary.

Read just one poem a day.
Someday a book of poems may open in your hands
like a daffodil offering its cup
to the sun.

When you can name five poets
without including Bob Dylan,
when you exceed your quota,
and don't even notice, close this manual.


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"If you've never been thrilled to the very edges of your soul by a flower in spring bloom, maybe your soul has never been in bloom." ~Audra Foveo


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Peace, Poems, Prolixity,

~Marion

Flowers are Earth's Poetry

My first rose to bloom was this long-stemmed white John F. Kennedy rose. It was absolutley gorgeous. The day after it bloomed a huge windstorm came and blew it to pieces. (A magnificently strange storm with no thunder or lightning or rain---just clouds and wind---it was awesome!) Thankfully, I got a shot of it before it was gone. It's loaded with buds as are all of my other rose bushes now. Ray planted me 6 rose bushes in the back yard in a new rose bed. Two of them are the Knockout Roses and they're already bushy with lots of buds.

This is Nashville Buddha in his newly cleaned out flower bed/rock garden right beside my carport. It was full of Lemon Mint which is sprouting all over the yard so we pulled it up and planted Pansies. Later, I'll add more flowers for his viewing pleasure.

This is a wild Violet that Ray picked for me today across the street in the woods. It smells heavenly. He wanted to dig some up and plant them in the yard, but I wouldn't let him because they're so pretty along the edge of the woods.

One of my purple Iris's. They're very showy this year, in spite of the weeds in their bed. I really miss being able to spend hours pulling weeds and working in my flower beds. . . Ray's not too big on weeding and I used to find it relaxing. I can sit and do some of it, but not as much as I used to. Bummer.

And finally, Cody, heading for the woods across the street. I picked my first Strawberries today and they were sweeter than candy! I seem to have a great crop coming along. I might actually get some jam this year. Last year we ate them as soon as they were ripe! Same with the blueberries. I only got about 8 jars of Blueberry jam and Mary Mace got most of that. She loves my homemade jams and won't share them with anyone.

Blessings, Peace & Hugs,

~~Marion, wishing you flowers this Easter season.......

"If you pass by the color purple in a field and don't notice it, God gets real pissed off." ~Alice Walker, 'The Color Purple'

"When bright flowers bloom

Parchment crumbles, my words fade

The pen has dropped ..." ~Morpheus

"There came a time when the risk to remain tight in the bud

was more painful than the risk it took to blossom." ~ Anais Nin

Polly Jean Harvey, Poet/Rock Legend Extraordinaire

I've said it before and I'll say it until the day I die: Songwriters are the new poets of our generation.


We may not have a Wordsworth or a Millay today, but we have the tender hearts and translucent, poetic souls of singers like Polly Jean (P. J.) Harvey, whose haunting voice can at turns bring me to tears with longing or make me want to jump up from my chair and dance with abandon. She's my newest musical muse.


I can't listen to her music and not grab my pen to write. Ideas seem to jump out of the speakers as I listen to her singing one of my favorite songs so far, "Grow Grow Grow". Her voice is at times high pitched---soft, innocent and gentle---fragile almost, as she plays the autoharp, then suddenly hard as the ground she speaks of stomping down with her boots in this amazingly inspiring song which speaks to me on so many levels that I could never describe them all here. I like her live performances on YouTube best. Check them out when you get a chance and be enthralled with her many personas.


She's a chameleon, a shape shifter---one minute the wounded lover, the next carelessly breaking a man's heart. She's basically shy but can wear a red dress and slut it up with the best of them, as in her song, "Down By The Water" based on an old Irish ballad. In "This is Love" you're riveted to her blood red lips, a slash of crimson in the canvas of the otherwise entirely white video. You can't take your eyes from her mouth in this hard-driving song.


If you've never listened to any of her music, you're in for a delicious treat. I recommend the song below first. I always like to sing along so here are the simple yet profound lyrics:


GROW GROW GROW


By Polly Jean (P.J.) Harvey


I sowed a seed
Underneath the oak tree
I trod it in
With my boots I trampled it down


Grow
Grow
Grow


I sowed a rose
Underneath the oak grove
With my boots on the ground
Into the earth I trampled it down


Grow
Grow
Grow


Teach me how to...
Teach me how to...


Teach me, Mommy
How to grow
How to catch someone's fancy
Underneath the twisted oak grove…


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You may have heard of one of her early song, "Sheela-na-gig" which is a classic. Kurt Cobain said it was the best rock song ever written. She's an enigma, a true poet and today I salute her as my poet muse and thank her for sharing her heart and soul with all of us.


Read a poem today and listen to some new music----GROW!


Blessings, Hugs and Peace,


~~Marion


Music is the poetry of the air. ~Richter


If I were to begin life again, I would devote it to music. It is the only cheap and unpunished rapture upon earth. ~Sydney Smith


There is nothing in the world so much like prayer as music is. ~William P. Merrill


And the night shall be filled with music,
And the cares that infest the day
Shall fold their tents like the Arabs
And as silently steal away. ~Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, The Day Is Done


Music was my refuge. I could crawl into the space between the notes and curl my back to loneliness. ~Maya Angelou, Gather Together in My Name


Music is the wine that fills the cup of silence. ~Robert Fripp

I Am An Alphabet Woman

I post here one of my favorite poems written by me and inspired by the poet, Anne Waldman, who was inspired by the Shaman Woman, Maria Sabina. I challenge everyone to write their own alphabet poem. April = Poetry Month!!!!

ALPHABET WOMAN

By Marion Lawless

I am an Alphabet woman, a magician with words.

I am a Book woman, reading to stay alive.

I am a Creative woman, forming art from garbage.

I am a Dragonfly woman, flying between the worlds.

I am an Earth woman, friends with the trees and flowers.

I am a Flying woman, soaring nightly in my dreams.

I am a Gardening woman, tiller of soil and soul.

I am an Herbal woman, creator of magical potions.

I am an Intuitive woman, looking beyond facades.

I am a Joyous woman, thankful to be alive.

I am a Kind woman, treating others with respect.

I am a Learning woman, hungry for knowledge.

I am a Moon woman, in tune with Lunar cycles.

I am a Nature woman, hearing the earth's heartbeat.

I am an Ocean woman, drawn by the pull of the tides.

I am a Poet woman, midwife to little poems.

I am a Questioning woman, ever seeking mystery.

I am a Reading woman, devourer of words.

I am a Survival woman, grown stronger with every challenge.

I am a Tattooed woman, wearing my spirit on my skin.

I am an Understanding woman, full of empathy.

I am a Victorious woman, over-comer of obstacles large and small.

I am a Word woman, happiest when immersed in a book or writing.

I am an X-ray woman, seeing though life's illusions.

I am a Yin-Yang woman, ever seeking balance.

I am a Zealous woman, passionate about truth, life and love.

By Marion Lawless

Dragonfly Testing, One, Two Three

Will this blog work? Am I wasting my time again? Time will tell!!

Here's to National Poetry Month!!

Strange Woman

By Jill Essbaum
After Proverbs 7

She searches the sky for a god who will reach down and love her.
She seeks the arms of a lust that would stretch out to have her.
She shudders like a whore in a rickety chair.
She plaits ribbons of pain in her hair.

She sings unruly songs in strident keys.
Her feet abide in no man’s custody.
She is pity’s shabby bride, and lechery’s courtesan.
Mistress of a never-to-rise-again sun.

She tinctures her wines according to your desires.
In her bed, Hell is always and only fire.
You can set her apart like surfeit, delirious tither.
But no. She won’t be faithful to you either.

But hearken: The Goodman is gone and she will flatter you.
Use her. She will let you.



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PEACE & BLESSING!

READ A POEM, HUG A POET and WRITE A POEM THIS MONTH

~~Marion