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John E Marks
John E Marks

604 Followers

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Gérard Manley Hopkins SJ

On this flaming day in June, with such beautiful pagan mountains rising all around, I felt your uncertain presence in this bastion of the Jesuits. I listened, and you, doubtless, overheard, disquisitions concerning the nuts and bolts of your poetry As your real presence crept slowly into my heart, I knew your…

Greek

1 min read

Gérard Manley Hopkins SJ
Gérard Manley Hopkins SJ
Greek

1 min read


Pinned

Rhapsody

Poetry — If all the days of all the years were made of wine and gold I’d roll them up into the light of intelligence in this one dog’s eyes This friendship across species — a Buddhist mantra – Rocks me like my good old boy, befriends me like the wind. Be with me when the gates fly open — love will enter in. Seek out the Majesty, the shaman-spirit that will be: Come with me to the Paiut Wovoka ghost dance Drive away every morsel of this dirty money-grabbing Respectable massacre of everything that be wild, wilful, wondrous. Artfulness creates resistance to the age of the machine To the algorithms that manipulate us behind the scenes in this stinking world of the machine There is no worth in this two-dimensional world Resurrect the unseen perspicacity and prescience that was once the common currency Of the most illiterate, boorish Saxon.

Prescience

1 min read

Rhapsody
Rhapsody
Prescience

1 min read


Published in

The Lark

·Pinned

Waiting for November

His headstone verses were writ in wine

Constantinople

1 min read

Waiting for November
Waiting for November
Constantinople

1 min read


Pinned

The unsaid

Wind cuts through this January night Slices like a knife through my meagre clothes. Signs on the road hidden by an iron fog The cry of the wind is all in vain Nothing is the same. I kiss you across this black hole in time. In the old be-jewelled spider-webbed…

Unsaid

1 min read

The unsaid
The unsaid
Unsaid

1 min read


Pinned

John Keats 31 October 1795– 23 February 1821

Melancholy’s lack of zest written all over his palimpsest: to die at twenty-five to some will hardly seem to have been alive, but for Johnny Keats and the footloose Cavaliers poetry, music, art, tears were eternal. They eschewed self-pity, untold fears. They tried their best to stay alive In a world…

John Keats

1 min read

John Keats 31 October 1795– 23 February 1821
John Keats 31 October 1795– 23 February 1821
John Keats

1 min read


Published in

The Howling Owl

·1 day ago

My body is a pebble

— What should I do? — —

Gloom

1 min read

My body is a pebble
My body is a pebble
Gloom

1 min read


Published in

The Howling Owl

·1 day ago

Magik

— in Noman Times — —

Magic

1 min read

Magik
Magik
Magic

1 min read


Published in

The Lark

·6 days ago

No Whiskey in Heaven

Poetry —

Sinatra

1 min read

No Whiskey in Heaven
No Whiskey in Heaven
Sinatra

1 min read


Published in

The Howling Owl

·May 24

Signs and Signals

— swirling skies of fortune — — These fingers point at letters Those letters point at words And then the disturbance - Occurs. My love she was a vixen, She howled in the night, Those feelings they just left me - Despite not being right. This mourning just continues, Throughout decades, in a line, My lover she engages me…

Suicide

1 min read

Signs and Signals
Signs and Signals
Suicide

1 min read


Published in

The Lark

·May 23

Dark Star

Poetry —

Newfoundland

1 min read

Dark Star
Dark Star
Newfoundland

1 min read

John E Marks

John E Marks

604 Followers

I will try to express myself in some mode of life or art as freely as I can and as wholly as I can

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