酷我-北美枫

[anna]

from me:

well, the task for my weekend, sending the translation to Bruce Meyer for his poem: Vanishing Cream... seems lately I have special links to moths...this poem does let me feel me a lit candle, or a moth... either way I am burning myself for living, in a good way, i suppose? then discussing with a gentleman who wrote 12 pages comments for my new long poem...quite unusual... then finish reading the new book by Vivienne Poy and jot notes to prepare for a speech... yes, very busy, now you see how I burn myself...

From Bruce:
A candle to light your way.


Hi Bruce, John B. Lee sent me a book and I like the poem: the Stranger Moth, I wrote a poem for that: Stranger Moths... and years ago, I have other moth poems... see? Yeh, for your book: A Book of Bread, I wrote a poem: Bread....


Bruce Meyer: Sounds like a larger moth project is evolving. How about a dialogue anthology between you and other poets about moths?


Anna Yin: might think of that and translation too...just so many things can do and need to do.


Bruce Meyer: A flutter of dusty wings.


Anna Yin: any way back to my IT work,. last night worked till 11:30pm


John B. Lee: Hi Anna I once wrote a moth poem called, "Seeing the Cecropia," which appeared in my book Totally Unused Heart. I also wrote a line somewhere, "the moth in the room/and the moth in the mind/are the same." I had had a dream as a child. In the dream a moth appeared, and I woke to discover a moth fluttering just above my closed eyelids, as though I were the light. Today, I wrote a poem about spiders. Last night we were discussing the fact that spiders spin their webs from the outside in. I did a little research and discovered that they also weave their webs in a clockwise direction. On further investigation, I learned that there are million year old fossilized remains of spiders in Mongolia. Here is the verse mentioning those spiders, one stanza in a longer poem. "in Mongolia/there are fossils/ancestored in stone/from a million years/of continuous spider life/etched like burn shadows/formed by the threads and buttons/from the garments/of lost children" You can go on the web and see images of those amazing spider fossils. One of the most amazing details involves the fact that contemporary spiders exist in China that are almost identical to those million year old fossils. Moths, and spiders and butterflies and beetles ... hmmmm John Lennon was a beatle, wasn't he, all good things, John B.


Anna Yin: Thank you John B. Lee. Will check them when I have time... glad to have your input.

John B. Lee: Moths in the moonlight, very Li Po
_________________
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Anna Yin

《爱的灯塔-星子安娜双语诗选》
<Nightlights> <Seven Nights with the Chinese Zodiac> ...

http://annapoetry.com

[[星子安娜]]

from me:

well, the task for my weekend, sending the translation to Bruce Meyer for his poem: Vanishing Cream... seems lately I have special links to moths...this poem does let me feel me a lit candle, or a moth... either way I am burning myself for living, in a good way, i suppose? then discussing with a gentleman who wrote 12 pages comments for my new long poem...quite unusual... then finish reading the new book by Vivienne Poy and jot notes to prepare for a speech... yes, very busy, now you see how I burn myself...

From Bruce:
A candle to light your way.


Hi Bruce, John B. Lee sent me a book and I like the poem: the Stranger Moth, I wrote a poem for that: Stranger Moths... and years ago, I have other moth poems... see? Yeh, for your book: A Book of Bread, I wrote a poem: Bread....


Bruce Meyer: Sounds like a larger moth project is evolving. How about a dialogue anthology between you and other poets about moths?


Anna Yin: might think of that and translation too...just so many things can do and need to do.


Bruce Meyer: A flutter of dusty wings.


Anna Yin: any way back to my IT work,. last night worked till 11:30pm


John B. Lee: Hi Anna I once wrote a moth poem called, "Seeing the Cecropia," which appeared in my book Totally Unused Heart. I also wrote a line somewhere, "the moth in the room/and the moth in the mind/are the same." I had had a dream as a child. In the dream a moth appeared, and I woke to discover a moth fluttering just above my closed eyelids, as though I were the light. Today, I wrote a poem about spiders. Last night we were discussing the fact that spiders spin their webs from the outside in. I did a little research and discovered that they also weave their webs in a clockwise direction. On further investigation, I learned that there are million year old fossilized remains of spiders in Mongolia. Here is the verse mentioning those spiders, one stanza in a longer poem. "in Mongolia/there are fossils/ancestored in stone/from a million years/of continuous spider life/etched like burn shadows/formed by the threads and buttons/from the garments/of lost children" You can go on the web and see images of those amazing spider fossils. One of the most amazing details involves the fact that contemporary spiders exist in China that are almost identical to those million year old fossils. Moths, and spiders and butterflies and beetles ... hmmmm John Lennon was a beatle, wasn't he, all good things, John B.


Anna Yin: Thank you John B. Lee. Will check them when I have time... glad to have your input.

John B. Lee: Moths in the moonlight, very Li Po
_________________
---------------------

Anna Yin

《爱的灯塔-星子安娜双语诗选》
<Nightlights> <Seven Nights with the Chinese Zodiac> ...

http://annapoetry.com

[anna]

Just saw Anna Yin's translation of my poem, "Vanishing Cream" from A Book of Bread (2011) from Exile. It is wonderful and puzzling to see one's work in a different language and script. Thank you Anna. The poem, a memorial poem for Amy Winehouse, contains a reference to a night I spent at David Wevill's house in the hill country of Texas when I woke up with my face against a screen door I was sleeping tight up to (it was 100 degrees + that night) and found myself about three inches from a deer that was sniffing me out on the porch. I've written a new poem recently about encountering the deer on the Sheguiandah Townline Road. Now, I'm starting to wonder if the deer aren't trying to tell me something: they keep coming up to me -- wild deer. They are among the most beautiful creatures in the world, nurturing, protective, and elegant. Maybe they are trying to ask me to ask the world to stop making them targets for sport venery. It seems a horror to kill such creatures. They seem to want to communicate, just as dogs do, though they haven't got the dog's facility (at least my dog Daisy) for human language. Maybe this is their first step in the conversation. After all, would anyone go out and shoot their dog?


Anna Yin thanks for your explanation here.... the Screen word is really a trouble word... because it could be mean for window and door, or the computer screen...If I don't read this, I thought it was your childhood's experience at the end... to wonder on Nature
17 minutes ago · Like

Bruce Meyer Window screen. Mosquito mesh. Stuff to keep the bugs out. It is a mandatory feature in North American windows, especially if one is living in the country or in Canada. It was an adult experience. It is terrifying to wake up in the early dawn with a deer looking right into your eyes. What woke me was the deer's breath. They never floss, and up close they smell of salad that's gone bad with a bit of dog-breath muskiness tossed in for good measure. The deer was startled when I opened my eyes -- and startled deer don't move so we had a very long moment of contact together. Deer are extremely spiritual animals and there is something of a spiritual presence that flows into a person when one has the chance to stare into the eyes of such an animal, up so close, for so long. I had an equal experience with a whale once.
13 minutes ago · Like

Bruce Meyer Hope you got my email I sent a little while ago. Best, Bruce
12 minutes ago · Like

Anna Yin Yes. you have a few screens in the poems. for the moth I know... just the last one... I was not sure. now I know... I thought another possibility: you worked too hard and fell sleep before the computer... and the eyes might be your own from the reflection of the computer screen... see two roads diverged...
8 minutes ago · Edited · Like

Bruce Meyer The last one in the final stanza is a window screen. The wonderful think about the word screen is that it means so many things: a mesh on a window; a place for projecting movies, and as a very it means to show someone moving, illuminated images (aka a movie) on a flat surface. It also means to "to sort through something and be selective" as "to screen applicants" and it can be a computer screen, a tv screen, or a decorative portable wall that separates rooms. In the poem I was playing on the window mesh and the movie screen. The word screen (though not in the poem) can also refer to cinema and art of film in general as in "she was a screen star." English does that. Context creates meaning.
8 minutes ago · Like
_________________
---------------------

Anna Yin

《爱的灯塔-星子安娜双语诗选》
<Nightlights> <Seven Nights with the Chinese Zodiac> ...

http://annapoetry.com

[[星子安娜]]

Just saw Anna Yin's translation of my poem, "Vanishing Cream" from A Book of Bread (2011) from Exile. It is wonderful and puzzling to see one's work in a different language and script. Thank you Anna. The poem, a memorial poem for Amy Winehouse, contains a reference to a night I spent at David Wevill's house in the hill country of Texas when I woke up with my face against a screen door I was sleeping tight up to (it was 100 degrees + that night) and found myself about three inches from a deer that was sniffing me out on the porch. I've written a new poem recently about encountering the deer on the Sheguiandah Townline Road. Now, I'm starting to wonder if the deer aren't trying to tell me something: they keep coming up to me -- wild deer. They are among the most beautiful creatures in the world, nurturing, protective, and elegant. Maybe they are trying to ask me to ask the world to stop making them targets for sport venery. It seems a horror to kill such creatures. They seem to want to communicate, just as dogs do, though they haven't got the dog's facility (at least my dog Daisy) for human language. Maybe this is their first step in the conversation. After all, would anyone go out and shoot their dog?


Anna Yin thanks for your explanation here.... the Screen word is really a trouble word... because it could be mean for window and door, or the computer screen...If I don't read this, I thought it was your childhood's experience at the end... to wonder on Nature
17 minutes ago · Like

Bruce Meyer Window screen. Mosquito mesh. Stuff to keep the bugs out. It is a mandatory feature in North American windows, especially if one is living in the country or in Canada. It was an adult experience. It is terrifying to wake up in the early dawn with a deer looking right into your eyes. What woke me was the deer's breath. They never floss, and up close they smell of salad that's gone bad with a bit of dog-breath muskiness tossed in for good measure. The deer was startled when I opened my eyes -- and startled deer don't move so we had a very long moment of contact together. Deer are extremely spiritual animals and there is something of a spiritual presence that flows into a person when one has the chance to stare into the eyes of such an animal, up so close, for so long. I had an equal experience with a whale once.
13 minutes ago · Like

Bruce Meyer Hope you got my email I sent a little while ago. Best, Bruce
12 minutes ago · Like

Anna Yin Yes. you have a few screens in the poems. for the moth I know... just the last one... I was not sure. now I know... I thought another possibility: you worked too hard and fell sleep before the computer... and the eyes might be your own from the reflection of the computer screen... see two roads diverged...
8 minutes ago · Edited · Like

Bruce Meyer The last one in the final stanza is a window screen. The wonderful think about the word screen is that it means so many things: a mesh on a window; a place for projecting movies, and as a very it means to show someone moving, illuminated images (aka a movie) on a flat surface. It also means to "to sort through something and be selective" as "to screen applicants" and it can be a computer screen, a tv screen, or a decorative portable wall that separates rooms. In the poem I was playing on the window mesh and the movie screen. The word screen (though not in the poem) can also refer to cinema and art of film in general as in "she was a screen star." English does that. Context creates meaning.
8 minutes ago · Like
_________________
---------------------

Anna Yin

《爱的灯塔-星子安娜双语诗选》
<Nightlights> <Seven Nights with the Chinese Zodiac> ...

http://annapoetry.com

[anna]

[[星子安娜]]

[anna]

These are merely footnotes to the poem, but the information is kind of interesting. The first stanza on the second page where I talk about my grandmother was based on the fact that when she got up each morning she would literally build her face out of make-up with layers of foundation, powder, paint, etc. and at night before she went to sleep she would take it all off with "vanishing cream", essential make-up removal cream or "cold cream." The effect of make up on her face was that she appeared almost like the powdered faces of silent screen starlets from the 1920s. They were almost white and ghostly; but in taking it all off, the idea of the image (what she presented to the world each day) would vanish with the vanishing cream; hence, she was 'ghostly.'' ASs I mentioned, my poems are onions. There are layers and layers in the poem. The idea of poetry for me is not just to say something but to say it with resonances, the way a stone dropped in a still pool of water creates ripples while you can still see the bottom and all the stones and fish through the waves of vibration. Each poem is rather a tricky business because I play so much with the language...but that's the fun in it all.
_________________
---------------------

Anna Yin

《爱的灯塔-星子安娜双语诗选》
<Nightlights> <Seven Nights with the Chinese Zodiac> ...

http://annapoetry.com

[[星子安娜]]

These are merely footnotes to the poem, but the information is kind of interesting. The first stanza on the second page where I talk about my grandmother was based on the fact that when she got up each morning she would literally build her face out of make-up with layers of foundation, powder, paint, etc. and at night before she went to sleep she would take it all off with "vanishing cream", essential make-up removal cream or "cold cream." The effect of make up on her face was that she appeared almost like the powdered faces of silent screen starlets from the 1920s. They were almost white and ghostly; but in taking it all off, the idea of the image (what she presented to the world each day) would vanish with the vanishing cream; hence, she was 'ghostly.'' ASs I mentioned, my poems are onions. There are layers and layers in the poem. The idea of poetry for me is not just to say something but to say it with resonances, the way a stone dropped in a still pool of water creates ripples while you can still see the bottom and all the stones and fish through the waves of vibration. Each poem is rather a tricky business because I play so much with the language...but that's the fun in it all.
_________________
---------------------

Anna Yin

《爱的灯塔-星子安娜双语诗选》
<Nightlights> <Seven Nights with the Chinese Zodiac> ...

http://annapoetry.com