Love is the only reality and everything else is the negation of that. All the horror and stupidity of the world is the negation of our capacity to love and care for each other. A postscript — do scroll down through the comments if you are a poetry hound. Some beautiful stuff has been left here, for which I am very grateful to my subscriber family! According to the Free Dictionary — second on the Google search list — an indulgence is the act, or an instance of, indulging.
According to me — pilgrim and self-confessed fool — an indulgence is a favour granted.
Melissa Patty
Anyone who has read Sinning Across Spain, or who has browsed here, will know that my chief delight, other than walking, is poetry; the lusher the better, particularly if it is Spanish. My lesser known delight is my feet.
They are my best, my favourite, bits. They have never given me blisters or pains or bunions. They make no complaint when hot or bothered, cold or wet, bruised or swollen. This summer they have had some excellent times traipsing about in sand beside three great oceans — the Pacific, the Indian and the Southern. They have walked me far and wide on both sides of the continent, keeping me grounded but also kicking me through waters and over waves.
They have skipped and they have played. A bit like my feet. So in honour of the greatness, and the romance, of feet — indulge me. When I cannot look at your face I look at your feet. Your feet of arched bone, your hard little feet. I know that they support you, and that your sweet weight rises upon them. Your waist and your breasts, the doubled purple of your nipples, the sockets of your eyes that have just flown away, your wide fruit mouth, your red tresses, my little tower. But I love your feet only because they walked upon the earth and upon the wind and upon the waters, until they found me.
You who are closest to the earth, you are my rhythm-makers. You are my markers of miles and smiles and tears. You are the quellers of my fears, dear feet that achieve such feats.
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Patty's Promise by Patricia A. Lively (2002, Paperback)
Also, you can subscribe by entering your email address in the box up top, and posts will come to you via email. No, there is no charge for them! My Sydney stay came to a poetic end. To say gracias to those who made my work there possible, I lead a poetry walk along the Rose Bay foreshore. We were pilgrims walking a camino — joining for a verse and separating to play I Spy, alone to make a wish and united to strew the water with flowers. We made our own bay of roses! It was a camino of gratitude, and a chance to salute a remarkable piece of land, with its history of plenty and pain, beauty and loss.
Rather like all camino roads…. Perth was where it began for me. I was born there, on the edge of the Indian Ocean, where the sun waves a final salute before it drops off the edge of the world. Sunrises over water still seem strange to me, as though the world has upended itself. Considering that my early years were spent in the red desert of W.
Like this country I love, I am all duality and contradiction. We live on the edges and dream of the heart. We cling to the wet and sing of the dry. We are flood and fire, drought and drowning. Mystery is for beginners. For fools and children. Mystery is humility and softness. If you are able to come along to any of my sessions at the WA Festivals, please stay and say hello afterwards. In particular, my monologue performance on Friday morning means a great deal — I last performed at the Dolphin Theatre when I was a Uni student, back in…well…another lifetime!
The way the light hits that water. The way frangipanis scent my inhalations, the way blues shimmer and slither, the way the harbour has snuck into my veins as I slide into it in the mornings. The way people have snuck into my heart…. It has been a busy week. They wrote and wrote, they skipped, they ached.
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Then a wide-ranging conversation with Tony Doherty at the church here in Rose Bay. Hard to read some passages from the book within those walls, but so good to step up to the task and to air painful stories. To let some light in and to release them, in the company of mindful seekers…. It will be an hour of celebration and gratitude to that sweep of salt I have come to know and love. It is beloved brine, and I want to honour it.
It has been an age since I put up a poem here — delinquent behaviour! Hope you find miracles all around, wherever you are on your road. The road keeps opening. Thank you to all the people I met this week at the workshops and the talk. It is such a gift to be given time and talk, and to meet people who want to open things up with questions rather than close them down in certainty.
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I am profoundly grateful. Booked Out Speakers Agency 03 bookings bookedout. But HOME rescues me. The word and the place. How could I forget? Of those I love and have lost…of those who are far away…of near and dear… Then the pleasure of the key that fits.
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And I am grateful. Always, the thoughts here have been in some way related to Sinning Across Spain — walking, journeying, poetry, Spain… But today is different. Just over two weeks ago, I lost him. Move this poetry book to the top of your list! It is a roller coaster of emotions. In My Wings, this rising star of a poet establishes herself as a force to be reckoned with. This is no ordinary poetry book as a listing of emotions and topics will attest. And the exquisite, unique photographs with accompanying verses are by Patty herself doubling as both photographer and model!
Her images are strikingly beautiful. The poetry is a mix of both free form and rhyme and meter, giving the poems a freedom and charm that entrance the reader. The poems are a diatribe on the tumultuous vicissitudes of life. My Dark Wings has not only the travails of life, but its loves. And My Light Wings has the love of life and its travails. And so the reader sets out on a journey through a maze of upheaval and passion. And those wings, dark and light, predominate many of the excellent photographs.
These poems hold a few surprises and ironies.
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Curiously, heaven and eternity show themselves, perhaps, only twice. Of favorite poems there be too many.
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This book is an extraordinarily frank and honest look at the core emotions of life. The poet examines loss, loneliness, anger and hurt as if it happens to her every day. Patty is fearless in opening her heart to examination, and reveals her soul with her every word. Patty displays a thorough understanding of the dark world of depression, and reveals the true feelings of a sufferer.
Her apparent experience of her time in the dark makes comforting reading for fellow sufferers, and gives supporters of sufferers a very clear insight into a world rather hidden away from. All of this being said, Patty writes of love, hope, strength and unity with as much passion and truth of emotion as she does about negative feelings.
Her thoughts are beautiful, whether in love or loss, and every reader will find relevance in her beautifully constructed words. To see what your friends thought of this book, please sign up. To ask other readers questions about Child at Heart , please sign up. Lists with This Book. This book is not yet featured on Listopia. Feb 08, Sarah Yagi rated it it was amazing Recommends it for: Readers of any genre, not only poetry. Patty Zion has a unique and refreshing approach to poetry. Her work has a heartwarming, sincere and natural quality.
There is real talent here and hopefully, one day she will be recognized widely as the great poet she truly is. Feb 10, Jonathan rated it it was amazing Shelves: Heartfelt poetry mostly in rhyme and meter. Author has the ability to touch the reader. Feb 11, Ron Wallace rated it it was amazing Shelves: Another collection of wonderful work that I enjoying reading pieces from periodically.