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May 13, 2005

Generosity of a poet

Cavafy has taken my breath away, the clarity of his words, the simplness of his images and the generosity of the pain he offers, no other man poet has done this to me, I sit here read his poetry and tears come, the pain tugging at my heart, and such a wellcome pleasure that this pain brings, the intimacy of his thoughts, the loneliness of him.

Some of you might not know this but it does take immesurable amount of generosity to be a poet. To allow the pain to come, sometimes to create it,pain and pleasure, so we get to feel beyound what we are allowed, so the bones would ache, the flesh pains, and the breath fights it way out of your chest, for the hights only we get to dare, to climb, and of course one should be ready o pay the price. I am not talking about commercial artist that whores its everything for the fame and the glory, I am talking of the ones that write for only the pleasure of it.

When I found out that Cavafy never tried to publish, only happy to send his poems to his friends, I felt a keenship with his sole, for I have done that most of my life, and only recently posting on POETS.COM, and to my main man Cyrus's credit, I have gathered them here and post them. Yes, yes and yes, it is the writing the process of putting the pen or in our case punching a keboard, and allowing your thoughts to be registerd, it take a quiet corner, sitting by yourself and all you need is time. I start writing a rant and befor I know it, thirthy five minutes, an hour has passed, with me immersed in bliss, not knowing where the time went.

And yes it take generosity and daring, not that people who write are braver, or somehow more noble than others, in a way they are condemned, to seek the pain and allow it to sip inside them, to take them over, make their bones ache, so they get inspired, so they can write, birthing a thought, an image. We are a strange lonely bunch, we need more, but not of the every day stuff that one gets to accumulate, and keep. We need more emotions, more generosity of senses, we need to see more, to be touched more, for we cry with innocence of a child and cherish the laughter we hear. WE need lovers, maybe mostly in our minds, we need heights of passion and depth of despair, we need to live bared of our skin, so we get to feel, we need walking in the rain, to get wet, to feel how the rain drapes over our bodies and take us, we need to be captured, to be freed.

And in many ways we are sexuall animals that will dare to uninhibited terotories to find our gems. Cavafy was living a hemosexual life in a very ristricted time, made so many wows to leave that life, and broke many wowes, as the lights faded and night came and the need in him took him over, and you see the guilt, the wanting and the passion in his works, the longing, and the pain that is traced within his words
and poetry, his gift for us. Well as I always say I am a hetrosexual Lesbian, probably the only one around, and if I was a hemosexuall, it might have brought me new grounds to cover between shame, guilt and the liberation of it. Maybe that is the reason that I flirt with men, and women the same, curiosity, looking for a new sensation, trying to get how a women feel, I do not know, but unknowns could always be tempting.

I will not, or should I say I am not capable of changing my sexual preferences, or have any inclinations for it, but I am trying to show you, how far the artist would go or dare, to do what he or she is meant to do. and how generous he or she has to be, how ready, and needy, and all for the sake, of some new words on a piece of paper, a new melody, the brush of paint on a canvas, a story to tell,..........
Yes, yes, and yes.

Posted by Idinraha at May 13, 2005 10:58 AM

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