Snow White and Rose Red:

 A Jurassic (*) Interlude




Before tea & discourse
we enter the room of string theories.
It's a fairly safe venture
to slip through the grasp of logic
& into the hands of mysticism.

Your eyes widen with delight
at the knotted sculptures
strung between pairs
of indifferent hands.
Your head cocks
to the left
to synthesize
the undertone of spellcraft
crackling over the speakers.
You postulate
the endless ways
to twist the universe
into the shape
of your desire,
& opine against
the lack of Time
to warp circumstance
to suit your needs.

Your preoccupation
allows the bonds
of sisterhood
to loosen between us.

copyright 2010 marie lecrivain

(* based on an exhibit from the Museum of Jurrasic Technology) 




Marie Lecrivain
Los Angeles, CA, USA
marie.lecrivain.pd@gmail.com

Poetry..a lifestyle?

Over the years, I have enjoyed reading many wonderful submissions of poems. There have been poems that truly delighted me, inspired me, horrified me, or at least in some way genuinely touched my heart. I have never been too impressed with poetry that seeks to express cerebral sophistry. I find some of those kind of poems simply dull. And that may be just because I find poetry at its best is, like music, a direct link to the emotional part that dwells in most mortals. A well chosen image, a finely turned phrase, melody whether in a piece of music or a stunning verse, will connect in a flash to something very deep within, something valid and ancient if you will. The bard can take us to this place where shivers of wonder yet endure.

Whether poetry can be a lifestyle I am not quite sure. Perhaps if your entire passion revolves around this rather ephemeral art form. Or perhaps for those few poets who have attained a measure of success. You can find poetry anywhere. In some subconscious slips of the tongue, in some spontaneous unassuming philosophical gem uttered by a pure child, in the heart opening up in joy or despair.

It's all around. You just need to lend an ear..