tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6327348657265652781.post5085897626084746520..comments2023-10-03T11:41:21.191+01:00Comments on The Truth About Lies: #694Jim Murdochhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/12786388638146471193noreply@blogger.comBlogger3125tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6327348657265652781.post-7423043371656204672016-12-24T01:17:16.296+00:002016-12-24T01:17:16.296+00:00That you've described the poem as, "a pho...That you've described the poem as, "a photograph of something that never happened" is why I learn something about writing every time I read your work. "Photograph" as something of a (imagined) perfect representation of a scene and placed in the sentence with "something that never happened," is just wonderful. I've also just realized how sweet the line "and anyhow it was cozier" is. "Cozier" is a word you can carry around with you all day. vito pasqualehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02647852611654199400noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6327348657265652781.post-44445456500655787892016-12-16T03:45:27.213+00:002016-12-16T03:45:27.213+00:00I've thought quite a bit about those eleven wo...I've thought quite a bit about those eleven words, <b>Vito</b>. You could probably scrap the rest of the poem and leave it there. The subtext here is all about payment, price, cost. I find it hard to imagine me letting her fork out for lunch but maybe she did. Perhaps she was saying thank you for something or other. I don't know. Lovers often share items of food even though they can afford one each. But there's another meaning to 'afford. As always with this lunch I was trying to push the boundaries of our relationship. I couldn't afford to have an affair and I had no doubt had I'd even hinted such a thing I would've been firmly rebuffed but this poem is a photograph of something that never happened, except in my mind. She will only have remembered half of what was going on because I never exposed my half to the light. I never really wanted to have an affair with her. Had I seriously wanted to make a play for her I couldn't done it before F. and I got married because there was a window of opportunity but I let it pass. She was important to me but she wasn't the only thing to be factored in at this time. That's the thing about this potted history. It neglects so much that was equally and perhaps even more important than B. A life raft in a swimming pool is a preposterous imagine but in a wild sea far away from land it becomes something else entirely. And that's what B. was during this time, something... someone to cling to, to focus on, to take my mind away from the less than poetic rest of my life.Jim Murdochhttps://www.blogger.com/profile/12786388638146471193noreply@blogger.comtag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6327348657265652781.post-88579538706760078072016-12-14T17:42:46.456+00:002016-12-14T17:42:46.456+00:00All of a sudden, I am given this mental map of pla...All of a sudden, I am given this mental map of places you've been that inspire a poem. . . Ayr, Larkhall, Edinburgh, Glasgow. . . These places overlay these sentiments and form a brilliant tour. Even a poem I could never decipher becomes one I can enjoy. "We shared a memory because we didn't have enough for two. . ." contains in eleven words, the entire contents of thousands of novels and poems. vito pasqualehttps://www.blogger.com/profile/02647852611654199400noreply@blogger.com