"You're in my blood like holy wine. You taste so bitter and so sweet. Oh I could drink a case of you darlin' and I would still be on my feet. Oh I would still be on my feet" ~Joni Mitchell
Mama didn't tell me about love But what did she know head in a rosary book citadeled in the country protected like a rare jewel How did my father ever get past their defenses? He knew about love But like Jesus he talked in parables- stories with a moral Leaving me to interpret their meaning She was afraid of the world and lived in an ivory tower He faced it with two hands standing on his feet Here I am a blend of both lost between the two Eyes full of moon but thinking myself immune like the song Infected with pretty lies Pretty lies I let them get under my skin Pretty lies Am I addicted to the sweet? Want to purge my blood of this poison So I'll bleed while standing on my feet
You are my kind of poet, Lin; but, you know that already. So now I sound redundant. I am afraid of losing your respect. I hope I do not. I'm going through my own little spot of hell right now. But you know about that too. Well. This poem of yours brought all of these sentiments and words out of me. That's not the way it usually "goes." I love your poetry and, if you think I "really" express that to everyone who comes along the path; girl, you are wrong. Love and peace,
The Joni Mitchell song is one of my favorites. Her lyrics were so honest. I love her for that. I think life is our time to bleed, Take what each of our parents have given us and decide what to hold onto and what to let go, and to search for the meanings of those facits of them we don't really understand. I think this is what we have to do in order to learn who we are and be true to ourselves. Excellent Made me think. Pierre.
Human contrivances and liturgical beads, mystical babblings and indecipherable wisdom will never take the place of relationship and love.
I really enjoyed this Linda!
Richard
Linda
We bleed but a little compared to the Good Shepherd who gave up his love for us...
Well crafted poem
Peter
Reviewed by Jerry Bolton (Reader)
Reviewed on June 20, 2006
THIS is a good poem. Your wordplay is excellent, your premise is solid, your poem is one of those that, as reading, the reader finds themselves living the words. When you can manage that, you have done well. You managed that.
When one loves, one gives away some of their power. But, then, that bittersweet aching and longing is what makes for such heady and heartfelt bliss ... and such uncertainty and sometimes agony. Love is an emotion without a switch, you can't turn it on and off at will. I enjoyed your well expressed poem, "The Bleed."
Still Living on my Feet is the follow up to Tichaona Chinyelu’s first book, In the Whirlwind, which was rooted in a sense of hard-hitting revolutionary black love. However, in this sophomore effort, Tichaona brings the revolutionary essence from deep
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Regis
Great value poetry.
Susan
love Tinka
I really enjoyed this Linda!
Richard
We bleed but a little compared to the Good Shepherd who gave up his love for us...
Well crafted poem
Peter
Fee