- SHE OF AN AUTUMN NEW YORK MORNING, 10.17.MMi. -

[HaroHalola]

Note: My "9.11." Homage - H'H./H.e.m.
_____________________________________________________________

She of an Autumn New York Morning
finesses, ferries her way
to the bowels
which remain

of an Autumn New York Morning
She
whence-after
Insanes came

And here
Front & Centre
the streets -
now discacophonies,
chilling air bites fetid -
miasma-beyond-acrid,
asbestos can be
uniform only
in Name,
Surreal #,
Rank!

She of an Autumn New York Morning
toward, "The (Blind & Folded) Justice,"
a balance of
Just Us, amid
the grinding mess
& Justice-swerved for
Nairobian thuggery, in-deed?

She
& "the Process,"
Civil-shepherd be
with me-&-
ambivalence -
in the Law... Lore & lure-of-duty-
-intrigue prevail
Justice pale, pray

of She, "of Process,"
choosed-selected,
en fine`, Protected!
of An Autumn New York Morning,
She, and
The Court Appointee Driver/
Love-spirited
to snatch Her from this Trial
into the Arms of Providence!

H.e.m.
10.17.MMi.
(Revised - 10.1.MMvi. - YK)

[hester_prynne]

I am drawn to this poem, I've read it many a time, it spirals, it mystifies, it is what it is, whatever that is.
This takes me to a place I don't understand.
Just like 9/11 did.
H

[HaroHalola]

Dear h_p/H. - From what you have expressed, presents the possibility of a "volume" reply, this will be a challenge to my laconic mettle. Initially, I am obliged to one whom is "drawn" to my Work, particularly this, the potency of which you have more-than-alluded-to, so at the outset, TY ; It is intended to capture all you have referenced, in the Poem's "public tenor," this was a time/moment of harrow, confusion - notwithstanding the latency - some three weeks after - the script (this was handwritten) tells this at the outset. "what It is...whatever It is" persists in an equal subtext, with no illusions the Reader will primarily glean the universal nuance, which I believe you have in your readings. I was compelled to Post this, in obvious knowledge of the aforementioned. The Poem's "private tenor," of course, is just that, the couched references of minor import save for Its principles' shared experience - an homage to the day (our day) when in the jaws of portending chaos, we were obliged to extricate - with some action, most cosmic - all fated, by purpose, I went, "engaged" the opposing forces & ultimately prevailed in delight (our experience for safety, not to imply "delightful" time, but rather delight-filled, as, say, again mutually, lighted hearts).

I hope this entree into the machinery has given to you an "understanding" behind the opaque curtain; understanding the spiraling of "9.11." can have a crashing result, which is a topic investigated in other of my Work, for another discussion - H'H./H.e.m.

[SadLuckDame]

Hello to you HH,
I'm passing through, after you'd planted a seed, and as is my curious nature, or a result of my inner huntress, who's determined to find the meal. Although not at all sure of what the result would be once eye to eye with the beast, I may become gentle or hardened.

Who could tell the future, not I, and my tarot readings for free only leave illusion. So I followed your link, which I couldn't not follow, in-case it were to be some curious sign. It's all in my head, all in my head, but I'm wholly entertained because of it.

Here we arrive at your piece, creative, yes I look for the gems within and as you know Justus winked.

I'd like to say the event which influenced this poem and many's emotions, had the same effect on me. But, I'm weak on a larger scale grief or heart, even concern for anything or anybody who's not within my 'world', because the world is so exhaustively large to begin caring too far from me, I'd never finish praying.

It's a horrid fault of mine own and speaks volumes of my selfishness or self centerpieces. I'm guilty of not sharing much cares for world hunger, until a small postcard of a wide starred eyed child, only too thin, that his windows seem to be all that exists in the photo, lays pale white across my opened palm. Only then do I feel the sorrow. Only then do I want to feed him, as if he were my own.

Still, I exist, faultiness exposed, here I am now, face to face, feeling a sudden sadness for 9-11, that I hadn't begun to think on before. And, I'd thought on it because gently you've laid out this beautiful poem to see.

When the destruction and death had happened on that day, I'd only thought mostly of my son, holding his candle on the porch step, with life's sorrows newly in his eyes. That was where my heart sunk, my world and my grief stricken guy. You've transported me to feel grief I hadn't yet, I'm grateful to see momentarily through your eyes.

She of an Autumn New York Morning

Yes, she, now she's somebody. You've given her identity--She of an Autumn New York Morning, I must thank you for it. 'finesses, ferries her way' I can see her here and here...
'She
whence-after
Insanes came'

'And here
Front & Centre'

My personal favorite lines...

a balance of
Just Us, amid
the grinding mess

And another look at 'her'

'She
& "the Process,"
Civil-shepherd be
with me-&-
ambivalence -
in the Law... Lore & lure-of-duty- '

She, and
The Court Appointee Driver/
Love-spirited
to snatch Her from this Trial
into the Arms of Providence!

You've made her more real to me.

[HaroHalola]

Dear SLD - Well, TY is benign; & so pleased to see/Read you here, though chagrined to (finally) learn the designation of your acronym. I have been granted fortune for the multiplicity of comments to my Work, not-to-say even the "detractors" did not allow - for the most part - value & learning; those whom did not bear anything but mean-spiritedness for their own obfuscated lack of reasoning were summarily dealt-with through the literature. This said as a way of portraying to you the finery of your response, happily-affirmed by others - friends/cohorts - who have also Read you & this Work.

For a Poet/Writer to be acclaimed for his Work being a vehicle which transports the Reader to, e.g., the places of emotion you have shared is a reward perhaps surpassing the Writing, Itself. You have allowed a heavy glimpse into the SLD Morlde`of the moment/moments for which I am humbled, notwithstanding the eloquence of Its delivery.

It interests me on another plane, given "she" & I are not any longer; in the preparation of the "Acknowledgements" for the publication of my Book (Sophistigates: A New Book Of New Poetry) , since shelved, I contemplated what would be her portion of the "Dedication," arriving at (paraphrase) "The grandest oblation for this Work is I have made you immortal." It is, of course, no stretch to see ("Yes, she, now she's somebody. You've given her identity--She of an Autumn New York Morning, I must thank you for it. 'finesses, ferries her way' I can see her here and here...", "You've made her more real to me.") I have been affirmed, & I THANK YOU, for this!

I hope you have found a source for your "meal," & have decided to be more-than-"passing-through." Through my Work is method for me of "feed him, as if he were my own." I attempt to help to heal the Planete one Poem at a time - H'H./H.e.m.

[SadLuckDame]

Dear HH,

I do very much want value&learning though. I'll keep trying for that.

You provide, I'm watching how you've created.

(I want a chance to become, this may only mean that I build my vocabulary enough to say in a fancy way how stupid I look, to no-one particular, possibly even just us.)

As to the name, it was given to me once. I've since, repeatedly attempted to kill her off (although totally imagined, I try). Somehow, she continues to face me, death after death, she must have nine lives.

I maybees here or there. But, I'm glad to read you at both.

[goldenmyst]

I could feel the New York streets in this; the smells and scenes; and the justice meted out on the denizen of the city. Such exquisitely wrought poetics here.

John

[Doreen Peri]

I saw this on facebook and was going to reply there but something screwed me up like an interruption or life ... sigh... anyway... It's clever ... I enjoyed perusing this piece. Thanks, Haro.

[HaroHalola]

SLD - Perhaps the requisite term is not "trying," but rather attempting? TY for the aggrandizements of my Work; that I might be an influence in another's pursuits heartens. And if this "pursuit" serves the highest good for growth, more-the-empowerment.

As for the moniker, "she" has no intrinsic power; are you privy to Clarissa Pinkola Estes', Ph.D, Women Who Run With the Wolves: Myths and Stories of the Wild Woman Archetype?

I look forward to Reading you, also, @ "both" - H'H./H.e.m.

P.S. - http://www.facebook.com/note.php?note_i ... 102&ref=mf

[HaroHalola]

gm/John - TY; It pleases me to know my Words, et al captured the intended scene, for you. I am appreciative of your gracious comments, esp. re: "Poetics," this is what we all strive-for, yes? H'H./H.e.m.

[HaroHalola]

Dear Dori, Dori, Dori (one for each Site) - Are we onto the same pages, here? This Poem ("She Of An Autumn...") to my recollection & periusal does not appear on F-book, & possibly at the very least supplanted by "JT On KR...", a more logical explanation re: your comment ("It's clever ... I enjoyed perusing this piece."), logical b/c of, 1) your musical background, 2) "She Of An Autumn..." is hardly a Poem eliciting "clever" & "perusing. But, TY, always my joy to Read you - H'H./H.e.m.

P.S. - If I am indeed missing something here, do allow me to contrition.

[Doreen Peri]

Sorry, I thought you posted it on facebook. Must have been another poem I saw there which I was going to reply to.

Sorry you don't like my analysis that the poem was clever. I thought the word play was clever.

Sorry also you don't think that the word "peruse" was an appropriate word to use when describing reading the poem. But that's exactly what I did. I perused it. I read one stanza. Then I read another. And then when I got confused, I skipped down and read one farther down the page and so on. I skipped around the poem, perusing the words from different stanzas, examining the word play and trying to figure it out.

As always, your poetry is like a puzzle. It takes work on the reader's part (at least this reader) to attempt to understand it and that's exactly what I did. I worked on it and the way I worked on it was to peruse it, this stanza, then that, then this, then that, then tried to read it again top to bottom.

What I discovered was that there was some clever word play in the piece.

[HaroHalola]

Dori - LOL! "What can I say after I say 'I'm Sorry!?' " (Walter Donaldson and Abe Lyman, published in 1926) - Always my respect/chortle for your wit, intelligence, "confusion." H'H./H.e.m.

P.S. - The Poem here is the more draconian (though both ref. Love) of the pair.

[HaroHalola]

Dori - & did I say "TY" for the concerted attention to my Work? - TY! H'H./H.e.m.

[Doreen Peri]

You're welcome.