The entire drama of conflict between individual and mass is most usefully studied under the aspect of the role of a poet in relation to his medium, because a language is a mass medium in all senses. Nobody in particular made it. Yet individuals have always to think and dream and feel in terms of this mass medium. The poet is in a special way the custodian and rejuvenator of language.
- Marshall Mcluhan
The Island:
Since I'm Island-born home's as precise
as if a mumbly old carpenter,
shoulder-straps crossed wrong,
laid it out, refigured
to the last three-eighths of shingle.
Nowhere that plowcut worms
heal themselves in red loam;
spruces squat, skirts in sand
or the stones of a river rattle its dark
tunnel under the elms,
is there a spot not measured by hands;
no direction I couldn't walk
to the wave-lined edge of home.
Quiet shores — beaches that roar
but walk two thousand paces and the sea
becomes an odd shining
glimpse among the jeweled
zigzag low hills. Any wonder
your eyelashes are wings
to fly your look both in and out?
In the coves of the land all things are discussed.
In the ranged jaws of the Gulf,
a red tongue.
Indians say a musical God
took up his brush and painted it,
named it in His own language
"The Island".
by: Milton Acorn
- Marshall Mcluhan
The Island:
Since I'm Island-born home's as precise
as if a mumbly old carpenter,
shoulder-straps crossed wrong,
laid it out, refigured
to the last three-eighths of shingle.
Nowhere that plowcut worms
heal themselves in red loam;
spruces squat, skirts in sand
or the stones of a river rattle its dark
tunnel under the elms,
is there a spot not measured by hands;
no direction I couldn't walk
to the wave-lined edge of home.
Quiet shores — beaches that roar
but walk two thousand paces and the sea
becomes an odd shining
glimpse among the jeweled
zigzag low hills. Any wonder
your eyelashes are wings
to fly your look both in and out?
In the coves of the land all things are discussed.
In the ranged jaws of the Gulf,
a red tongue.
Indians say a musical God
took up his brush and painted it,
named it in His own language
"The Island".
by: Milton Acorn
- Last seen 1 day ago. Member since February 19, 2005.
- I'm a lyric diamond poet for 2,278 comments.
- My mood is , and quote is "Poets, like whores, are only hated by each other".
- I am a 22 year old guy (Canada)
- When I'm not writing, I'm a noun.
- I am in the groups bare limbs
- I have 2,278 comments, 19 contests, 1 column, 148 poems, 1 story
My Poetry
-
the fire stood higher and higher15 lines, 4 comments, June 26, 2007. In Contemporary, Other
-
a naked leper / strutted across the lawn / giving a side glance / and wave / to the orthodontist across street / who recently installed / brand new shutters / this particular surgeon of the mouth27 lines, 7 comments, May 30, 2007. In Contemporary, Other
-
My Stories
-
Jobs were fleeing out west so dad decided he’d do the same. Have to pay the bills and even though monies made of trees it was hard to come
Guest Book
1 - 4 of 58
Show all
-
jantastic on October 23Good to see your name.
-
naked roots : Hi on August 4, 2007Just stopping by to let you know that it has been entirely too long since you have posted a new poem.
I know. I am guilty of not sharing for long periods of time...but I keep stalking your page and not finding anything new! Please don't make me beg... (giggling)
-
Alaula on June 20, 2007hey man- you asked if i wanted to be your friend- i'm assuming you were referring to facebook- so yeah, sure! but i must warn you- i seem to be methodically deleting the guys on my friends list- its a therapeutic healing...uh...thing. but who knows, you might last longer than most...anyways, i'll look you up, k?
-
Heart Sutra on June 14, 2007I love your "motto" and couldn't agree with you more.
