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Truth.Lies.Poetry.

Wednesday, October 19, 2005

Listless

laundry
clings bravely
to untaut lines.

4 Comments:

Blogger Dan Husain said...

this is beautiful...almost eliotesque! :-)

2:38 AM  
Anonymous tangent said...

I think ..this is a wonderful piece of writing..e

However..I think the piece would be enhanced if it is encased in a situation or a bigger thought process.
A part of a bigger poem.
Otherwise it will be a real good creative lines..hanging, listless.

Just my .02.

10:03 PM  
Blogger david raphael israel said...

but tangent!
it IS so "encased."
It's encased in a
series of such poems.
(Alone, it would have
a different context.)
It's also encased in this blog, which serves to lend additional context. Finally, it's encased in the work of the author (now unfolding!) -- a vivid, real-time, happening-before-yer-eyes context!
Man, this thing is so encased it's practically Fort Knoxed.
so to speak. [just my .02]

Kaaju K....
the paradoxes of this one are especially interesting.
Listless laundry--
so it's already (presumably)
itself untaut--
clings bravely--
so it's not quite carefree--
to untaut--
here's the crux of the prob.--
lines (words dangle, like laundry, from lines).
The notion of a dysfunctional family -- or at least of family dynamics -- is evoked for me.
But the image carries sweetly the delicate balance that allows things (laundry to dry, an ecosystem to survive, a life to move forward, a universe to be held in balance) to happen.

"Listless" is a rather curious English word. That the laundry is listless (in its being) and brave (in its clinging) presents a dynamic range of mentality (I guess). To combine such qualities in one situation (the situation of laundry, as observed) is precisely what art (if at all vivid) aims to do. Sez moi.

If vivid but toned down to the listnessness of an animated inanimate scene of drying laundry, all the better. The larger music is tamped down into pots & pans.

The scene tangentially calls to mind lines about laundry in Laurence Ferlinghetti's (I think) first (and prob. best) book, A Coney Island of the Mind. There were laundry lines on rooftops, I believe. But the particulars escape my listless grasp (though something of the image still clings; yet the line of recollection's untaut withal).

cheers,
d.i.

7:38 AM  
Blogger Anjali said...

awesome

9:30 PM  

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