POET, TEACHER, INSPIRATION: Dilys Wood & the Latter-day Sapphos

Jamie Dedes' THE POET BY DAY Webzine

Sappho (/ˈsæfoʊ/; Attic Greek Σαπφώ [sapːʰɔ̌ː], Aeolic Greek Ψάπφω, Psappho [psápːʰɔː]) was a Greek lyric poet, born on the island of Lesbos. The Alexandrians included her in the list of nine lyric poets. She was born sometime between 630 and 612 BCE, and it is said that she died around 570 BCE, but little is known for certain about her life. The bulk of her poetry, which was well-known and greatly admired through much of antiquity, has been lost; however, her immense reputation has endured through surviving fragments. “Sappho (/ˈsæfoʊ/; Attic Greek Σαπφώ [sapːʰɔ̌ː], Aeolic Greek Ψάπφω, Psappho [psápːʰɔː]) was a Greek lyric poet, born on the island of Lesbos. The Alexandrians included her in the list of nine lyric poets. She was born sometime between 630 and 612 BCE, and it is said that she died around 570 BCE, but little is known for certain about her life. The bulk of her poetry, which was well-known and greatly admired through much of antiquity, has been lost; however, her immense reputation has endured through surviving fragments.” [Wikipedia] Sunday: I began my dive into Dilys Wood’s Antarctica* (Greendale Press, 2008), spending my discretionary time engaged by this collection, which includes The South Pole Inn, a novella in verse.

“I dreamt I gave you the white continent
I wrapped it in white wedding wrap, embossed
with silver penguins and skiis …”
from Her Birthday Present in the section Love in…

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“THREE TIMES IN THE TEMPLE”

By the Mighty Mumford

THREE TIMES (RECORDED) IN THE TEMPLE

Jesus in the Temple three times,

Each visit He spoke special lines…

His Father’s business

When twelve was His gist,

For three days His folks  lost their minds!

In the Feast of Dedication as a man,

Jesus proclaimed  He was “I AM”…

He then slipped away

To return His final days,

The Jews thought His heresy a scam

His triumphal entry was the last,

In the final week when His life was cast…

As sacrifice–

The perfect man sufficed,

To blow away the evil one’s .plans!

–Jonathan Caswell

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Open the Door..I have Come

theshivasponder

Shiva in Meditation Pose 1

Open the Door..I have Come

YOU were here, with

All of us

YOU left for your abode

The day before yesterday, or

Millions of years back, and

Have been in your bliss

All for yourself

I imagine

There, is no sun, moon, stars or galaxies

YOU have perhaps forgotten

Have left here your idols, to see

My father, grandpa, granny, friends and ancestors

Have all left

Have you kept them there?

Have given them a throne

All your Messengers, Saints, Sages, Sufis, Vachanakars and Vedantins

Spake & sung to your glory

The great Scriptures proclaim

That I am ONE and in me

Are all souls, all creatures and living things

For they know not

Death is so near

Suffering no end

Shall again enter into darkness

My mother, my beloved, my kith & kin & all on this planet

They are all with me to enter our abode

   …

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Just because

The Journey of My Left Foot (whilst remembering my son)

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Sunday 20th March

Just because I’m used to it,
Doesn’t mean it doesn’t hurt anymore.

My heart is broken,
But I still have to get up each morning.

On the outside, I’m coping,
Beneath the surface, is where pain lies.

You will always be my son,
I continue to talk to you and about you.

I don’t love you any less,
As time passes, I know I love you more.

No longer on this earth,
But I feel your heart beating with mine.

My first waking thought,
And my last one before I fall asleep.

I love you my darling,
I just wish you were here to tell you.

Night, night sweetheart,
Love you to the moon and beyond.

xxxxxxx

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Who Are You?

The Arts Mechanical

A while back Bill Whittle wrote this piece:
http://www.ejectejecteject.com/archives/000135.html

Let’s look at Western Civilization at its naked pinnacle, at the height of its sheer fabulousness: Oscar night! It’s almost time for the Best Supporting Actor award!

Let’s start with the obvious: The amazing set, the stunning lighting, the beautiful people,  not just American stars, but world-wide phee-noms. This culture reaches around the world. It�s a fair bet that every other crazed Jihadi getting lathered up for a good round of beheadings in Iraq or Afghanistan or Malaysia is wearing a Spider-man T-shirt or a Miami Dolphins cap or a pair of shorts with a Nike slash or one of the millions of other little trinkets mass-produced as easily as skin cells falling off the body of a sleeping Goliath.

But let’s peel away layers, shall we? One by one?

What about the television network that allows us to watch…

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Writing on the page of Life which is a time limited edition

Words dipped in Happiness

Our life is limited by number of days, not by the number of ways we can live it. – Jackie Jain

We all are here to write down
On this time limited edition of 
Life’s page with unlimited ways
Of writing it in our own unique style.

Thousands of possible combinations
But I eagerly looking for that one perfect,    
I often do mistake and then stumble.
Again I wake up, reset, restart, rewrite.

Rewrite is not writing on the same page,
It is striking off the old pages and writing a
New one. But I came to know that even while
Rewriting, pages gets filled without mercy.

Every second and every page counts,
Write your life being witty and positive.
There are many ways to write, filter out
The possibilities with the least attempts.

Much population but with less humanity.
Having less ink, they steal others’ dreams.
Then with that their…

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