The Explanation
(for those who require one)

And, of course, that is what all of this is -- all of this: the one song, ever changing, ever reincarnated, that speaks somehow from and to and for that which is ineffable within us and without us, that is both prayer and deliverance, folly and wisdom, that inspires us to dance or smile or simply to go on, senselessly, incomprehensibly, beatifically, in the face of mortality and the truth that our lives are more ill-writ, ill-rhymed and fleeting than any song, except perhaps those songs -- that song, endlesly reincarnated -- born of that truth, be it the moon and June of that truth, or the wordless blue moan, or the rotgut or the elegant poetry of it. That nameless black-hulled ship of Ulysses, that long black train, that Terraplane, that mystery train, that Rocket '88', that Buick 6 -- same journey, same miracle, same end and endlessness."
-- Nick Tosches, Where Dead Voices Gather

Poets are both clean and warm
And most are far above the norm
Whether here or on the roam
Have a poet in every home! #49

Paul Muldoon


marietta said...

I don`t no Paul Muldoon,but he reminds me on a time,i was very sad and bad.I try to translated in english.
High spun in the wind frostbitten,
by crescent moon sick
seebirds plunge down
to frosty cathedrales
if riot see
will dark sunken armada bring to the light.

marietta said...

It is never to late,to say thank you for posting my poem.So thank you all,Sir und ein schönes Pfingstfest.Marietta.