Sheila Murphy a rigged camisole shielding pure nakedness. brevity is the soul of the nunace poetic. A camisole that has become rigged is weighted then, therefore no more a camisole, or something else, the 'rigged' [as in sails?] displacing the levity of camisole. The visual element of the morpheme (Am I right to say that 'sole' is the morpheme of camisole?;or is it the sememe?) 'sole' which means one (and naturally the other 'soul' hovers there 'ear'ppearing as its aural echo), all of which connects to an earlier text which I commented on __about one and no one and anyone__ so naturally there is a line crossing all of your work __ a transversality_ literally across the lines of its verse.
And "cami" then is rich in name play. Your phrase pomes __ what do they do? _'they' (I hestiate here with my choice of words because never do I wish to make it seem as if I seem them as mere objects) , near themselves to the connotation, the sense and the image _ the sense of words. So as a reader I am 'pushed' no, I'm "In_vited" to think and feel other levels, other senses, and the sense of the body that lies 'behind' the poem. By why 'behind' and not 'in front' of __ and the camisole which conceals discloses . The "schwa invokes depth" the depth that is the opposite of the surface of the camisole, and bounded by its frilled and folding fabric. So these pomes' "crossword" is "annexed" by this reader into the border between the writer. Call this an encounter between the borders of reading and writing and the way I as a reader recompose . Entering exiting your text. A desire to see and read inside the head of the text. I say thank you, and thank you, You thank I. I remain a reader recomposer. So then.
A good day to you and good writing, and again bear with my run into sentences and efforts to articulate something of what I feel and think as I read your work.
seems rigged
shielding pure nakedness"
Sheila Murphy a rigged camisole shielding pure nakedness. brevity is the soul of the nunace poetic. A camisole that has become rigged is weighted then, therefore no more a camisole, or something else, the 'rigged' [as in sails?] displacing the levity of camisole.
The visual element of the morpheme (Am I right to say that 'sole' is the morpheme of camisole?;or is it the sememe?) 'sole' which means one (and naturally the other 'soul' hovers there 'ear'ppearing as its aural echo), all of which connects to an earlier text which I commented on __about one and no one and anyone__ so naturally there is a line crossing all of your work __ a transversality_ literally across the lines of its verse.
And "cami" then is rich in name play. Your phrase pomes __ what do they do? _'they' (I hestiate here with my choice of words because never do I wish to make it seem as if I seem them as mere objects) , near themselves to the connotation, the sense and the image _ the sense of words. So as a reader I am 'pushed' no, I'm "In_vited" to think and feel other levels, other senses, and the sense of the body that lies 'behind' the poem. By why 'behind' and not 'in front' of __ and the camisole which conceals discloses . The "schwa invokes depth" the depth that is the opposite of the surface of the camisole, and bounded by its frilled and folding fabric. So these pomes' "crossword" is "annexed" by this reader into the border between the writer. Call this an encounter between the borders of reading and writing and the way I as a reader recompose . Entering exiting your text. A desire to see and read inside the head of the text. I say thank you, and thank you, You thank I. I remain a reader recomposer.
So then.
A good day to you and good writing, and again bear with my run into sentences and efforts to articulate something of what I feel and think as I read your work.
Post a Comment