2

2 young lovers stand in line before me. She turns and stands on her tippy toes to kiss the under

side of his chin. He bends his neck slightly to accept it. They are like the gulls with the

tiny fish I cant see without my glasses. The big male swallowing more than he shares.

Don't you like the way Bear Grills says "pure"? He means it. He means that all the other

water you drop your thirsty knees before and cup your hands to drink, is not the stuff of insect

wings and purple loosestrife. I told a friends little girl about gulls and it was hard to get

the words out. How to explain the pleasures of uncooked fish; of this earth-bound existence?

How do you explain red or being nearest the sea? How do you explain catching rain drops on

your tongue while in love? How does one disregard the allegorical in favor of the forensic?

What hand print, blackened with sadness and hunger, in those tiny synonyms, do you give

off unthinking? The majority of Dickinson's poems, the more unthinkable ones I mean, the ones

she meant to sear thru you as you sit quietly there, are no more the grants and grunts of a

19th century woman pondering love than the young , their captivating condition you

just cant turn your head from. It's power is the rain of membranous poesy  . It's real secrets are

ambitions to your memory as you think of how you felt then. Since now my own gnarly

toes have curled up like some

terrible, terrible thing....Just saying.

Reviews

[Lydia Shutter]

Ah, young love....there is nothing else quite like it and as we mature, we realize that. Nothing will ever be as sweet, as spontaneous, as all-encompassing. We will never feel as beautiful or as soft or as passionate. Cynicism takes over. Loved the reference to Dickinson....and the curled toes. Hey, mine are gnarly too! Lydi**

[h d e rushin]

Thank you Lydia so much....I stop in here once and a while to offer something (at least something) and to participate..You know that I've always been a fan of your love poetry..dana

[A hare off]

A collection of thoughts and questions to ponder as I stroll thru your words this evening. Thru some I tiptoe and others I run not knowing the right way to ask or the wrong way to ponder. Still I no longer look for an exit as I long to learn and know that with every question there will be an answer, right or wrong it will come. Dana, when I visit your words I am not quite sure what to say besides I am always amazed by your creativity and how you express yourself.

[h d e rushin]

thank you my friend.......and I agree totally with your assessment. Sometimes I get caught
in between being figurative and conceptual, (or gravitational and horizontal). I think I am getting better at storytelling..but when or where has that ever been my consideration? I write everything either late at night or early in the morning which probably explains your difficulty in finding
any appropriate exit. Thank you for those kind words my friend. And be assured, I am working and listening
as hard as possible to figure this poetry thing out.. dana

[A hare off]

Don't change a thing, I like being lost in your words. No exit needed.

[Corset]

Some things are just indescribable and must be witnessed in their own due time, how would you describe hunger to one who has never gone hungry? or plenty to one who stomach has always grumbled? Or the mating rituals of the strong and the weaker, I loved the way you described it in one of your other poems, that pecking, very much the way animals present themselves for petting. Regardless of underlying issues and above all else I have always admired they way you write, my friend, curled toes and all.

[h d e rushin]

I love you so much, and have done so since I began here. Thank you my friend...dana

[Corset]

that is such a comfort to me darlin' I hope we live to be one hundred and ten and you still write on and on and on and on, xoxo

[Tom27]

I am lost. In the depth of this person's thoughts. Complex, fragile i may say, and innocent. Captivating.

[h d e rushin]

thank you so much Tom27 for those kind remarks my friend...dana

[W.k.kortas]

Every once in a while, I just feel the need to put on my best John-Facenda-NFL-Films voice, and throw out a "Long live dana rushin. Long live his legend."

That being out of the way, I know that the notion of water has been much on your mind as of late, and that is here, most certainly, but there is a good deal more as well--the notion of the pure cf. the impure, the tree of evolution, the most basic question (well, you can argue, anyway) "How does one disregard the allegorical in favor of the forensic?" The answer you would give, I suspect, is "You wouldn't, or you shouldn't." There is the elemental observation here, certainly, but here, as so often elsewhere, you have created a framework where these seemingly disparate elements become part of a whole, or perhaps The Whole.

[h d e rushin]

Your heart is so pure.....thank you my friend....dana