HOLD ON TIGHT

HE SAID, MARIE, MARIE, HOLD ON TIGHT And when we were children, staying at the archduke's, My cousin's, he took me out on a sled, And I was frightened. He said, Marie, Marie, hold on tight. And down we went. In the mountains, there you feel free. I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter. ~ The Waste Land, "The Burial of The Dead", Eliot Sunday, September 09, 2007 i don't believe in the power of poetry. i think poetry changes nothing. i don't believe in love poetry either, i think love poetry cheapens. but in anycase, i'm writing again, finally, after a 2 year hiatus. the writing is more honest and examined, and also more controlled. the control takes a lot out of me also, but i know there is a kind of discipline i am building -- not just a discipline of the page, but a discipline of the person. posted by dawn # 11:14 AM Comments: Post a Comment << Home		[publishing] Publishers Weekly . Dystel & Goderich . New York Center for Independent Publishing . Association of American University Presses . Society of Children's Book Writers and Illustrators [people] clarisse . nurul . aunty zarina (ummi's bakery) . jeremy . pak . cyril . softblow . karen & kenny (booksactually) . eric . joel . [other loves] digitaljournalist . ballet dictionary . poetshouse . urbanwordnyc [me] dawn, singapore, new york city, ithaca. [yesterday] saussure and classes, dancing, made me happy today... the road behind the house the breaking of all spells now that she's back in the atmosphere i am in ithaca now, learning new roads, navigating... we've known each other since we were 9 or 10 ANNOUNCEMENT! excess luggage In the sun i have been operating on two time zones for the pa... [archives] January 2007 February 2007 March 2007 April 2007 May 2007 July 2007 August 2007 September 2007 October 2007 November 2007 December 2007 January 2008 February 2008 March 2008 April 2008 May 2008 June 2008 July 2008 August 2008 September 2008 October 2008 November 2008 December 2008 January 2009 February 2009

HE SAID, MARIE, MARIE, HOLD ON TIGHT

And when we were children, staying at the archduke's,
My cousin's, he took me out on a sled,
And I was frightened. He said, Marie,
Marie, hold on tight. And down we went.
In the mountains, there you feel free.
I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.

~ The Waste Land, "The Burial of The Dead", Eliot

Sunday, September 09, 2007

i don't believe in the power of poetry. i think poetry changes nothing. i don't believe in love poetry either, i think love poetry cheapens. but in anycase, i'm writing again, finally, after a 2 year hiatus. the writing is more honest and examined, and also more controlled. the control takes a lot out of me also, but i know there is a kind of discipline i am building -- not just a discipline of the page, but a discipline of the person.

posted by dawn # 11:14 AM

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