A good number of you, Stick-Paul's adoring and unworthy fans, have e-mailed me, asking me to post more of Stick-Paul's poetry. While I enjoy his verse enormously, I find it hard to choose which selections to show you. I also have to consider which selections are appropriate material to share, as much of his poetry is of a private nature though arguably of great value to those who read it.
I have passed the following selections by Stick-Paul and he has given me a reluctant "Okay" to post them. I'm sure you will enjoy them. They are not a political commentary, nor are they found in any of his great epic ballads. These selections are from his private drawer, of which I am privileged to be privy to.
In these selections you will find Stick-Paul's portrayal of personal love. He told me that these particular selections (two of my favourites)were written in haste, in a moment of inspiration, and he hasn't been able to bring himself to edit them.
Without further ado:
...
Surge
you anthem of life
to my love
a tune
pure
Bend
you callused knee
to my love
willing
fast
Blow
you wind untamed
to my love
caress
sooth
Tremble
you unwavering
to my love
courage
yield
Give
you timid heart
to my love
the all
give
...
where am i
do i look or see
or smell, touch, taste of love
no not i
not my own do i see
for mine is given, yet kept from me
thence it rings
my heart's death tolls tell
and tell they will in mine cut humility
who am i
am i cyrano now
that she would speak of beauty
not cyrano
not because of another
for my own iniquity do i die
i do die
at every glimpse of my love
of my love as she or i walk by
my iniquity
my own iniquity and birth
blast! the latter too early, the former too late
...
Surge
you anthem of life
to my love
a tune
pure
Bend
you callused knee
to my love
willing
fast
Blow
you wind untamed
to my love
caress
sooth
Tremble
you unwavering
to my love
courage
yield
Give
you timid heart
to my love
the all
give
...
where am i
do i look or see
or smell, touch, taste of love
no not i
not my own do i see
for mine is given, yet kept from me
thence it rings
my heart's death tolls tell
and tell they will in mine cut humility
who am i
am i cyrano now
that she would speak of beauty
not cyrano
not because of another
for my own iniquity do i die
i do die
at every glimpse of my love
of my love as she or i walk by
my iniquity
my own iniquity and birth
blast! the latter too early, the former too late
...
Here is a small note from Stick-Paul on these two selections and their composition:
My Friends,
I was hesitant to share these two poems with you at first. They are not the kind of writing that I am accustomed to other people seeing.
They were both composed at times when I was undergoing what I consider to be great personal growth. During these times I formed more fully my concept of sacrificial love. Moments of inspiration, as these poems are products of, were more often than not followed by the realization of certain truths concerning the content of the poems.
These poems are dear to me... as much, perhaps, for their aid in formulation of concepts as for their content. Still, it was with great reluctance that I shared these with you. Please enjoy them and consider them in the best possible light.
Sincerely,
Stick-Paul
Thoughts and comments on these selections are welcome. However, it would be appreciated if you would refrain from questioning Stick-Paul on the meaning of every word. General questions are preferred.
Aloofly,
Stick-Paul's manager.
Stick-Paul says: "I play the piano, and you should too."
3 comments:
I especially like the first poem. But the second is beautiful as well. I just like the commanding tone of the first.
Just a worthless comment from a lowly and unworthy fan of Stick-Paul. I know Stick-Paul does not need my approval or appreciation, he is above such things, but I thought I'd comment anyway.
Hey, I don't understand what you mean by "commanding tone". Can you explain?
He's talking to/about himself, isn't he? That's how I read it anyway. And he's saying to yield to his love too, right? So, wouldn't that mean that he was being submissive rather than commanding?
Gary
With Stick-Paul's permission,... this poem kind of reminds of the commanding (and very creative) love of Yahweh as described in the first chapter of Genesis. Not in the sense that it is a poem about creation, (although isn't love all about creating something?) but in that one can say that Yahweh is talking to/about himself as well, but could one then say that Yahweh is submissive? "Let there be light!" and there was light. THAT love is perfect love.
Reading this poem gave me that thrill you get when you recognize something as (unexpectedly) profoundly true and/or meaningful.
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