Realisation

[serge gurkski]

Remembering a walk beneath the pier, <<< Intuitively: I remember a walk...
supported by posts like Grecian columns <<< supported?
rotting deep within a silent forest, <<< fine with me. but then full stop?
then how I stepped onto the beach beyond, <<< I stepped onto ...
where huts in the distance blurred in a light <<< what light? moon?
that mocked their wooden objectivity,
I realise that I don't need Jesus. <<< ok with me, this reader, but how come the jump?
Dead men and women have done more for me
than Jesus, the saints, and all of their troops. <<< I like these two lines, not getting them maybe, notwithstanding, ;-)
Poets gave hope when Sunday school could not. <<< I like that.

I writhe in nature, like a Romantic, <<< I don't know what to do with "writhe in sth."
record its tensions, like an Imagist, <<< Oh god: Imagists! that's heavy. You are not wrong, I just have to look it up.
lament its silence, like Confessionals.
Poetry is what lies beyond mankind,
poems the violent oneness with God. <<< I like these two lines. I still must find out why.
They are the birth, death and resurrection.

Dear Heslop:

I like this over your rough stuff. I know, that life is rougher than your lines here. You proved that before.
There is a sentiment in this: Celtic (maybe unaware), Yeats-like, I like.
So, I don't know what to say, but I liked you to recite it (to add depth to it).

Thank you for this.

serge
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more for me than Jesus: that is fascinating. (Me thinking he was a crucified liar tortued to death by assholes.) Butthat aside: Interesting but not yet moving . ,-) Forgive me. I like, how you did that.