Gene Genie

Gene Genie

A Poem by gram linski
"

a travelogue poem

"
wanna sit like Descartes
in moonlight, write 
Germanic Goethe
poetry in Parisienne bordellos
dream Li Po in
dried up river beds and
mountain tops
wanna do - but
don't/ sit instead
in puddles of desolation 
without even bag of rice as
companion
drowning my boots  in
 Bordeaux's french mystery,
not even Moroccan style 
not even Celtic
a solitary Scottish accent
held silent
in an unknown tongue
seeking another nights shelter
before the gathering clouds
repent my sins
in washed out luggage
and an ear
full of corn

© 2020 gram linski


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I was thinking this was like the dream of travel, and then the thud of a current (somewhat oppressive) reality. Your title makes me think that there is some inherent thing within the speaker that makes him feel it is destiny for things to end this way. Like that idea that the traumas of our ancestors can affect our health. The past touches us through our DNA, and we have no way of transforming those parts of ourselves.

But, imagination is this glorious tool we have. In the universe of this poem, I think it reaches out to some things that seem impossible. But, also, there's the sense that if we have the imagination for it, it is not necessarily an impossibility. Maybe temporarily out of reach, but not impossible.

What I love about your travelogue poems is that they don't just glorify one view or the other. Travel, like life in general, is this mixed bag of experiences. The good and the bad can be mixed in a moment, and maybe that mixing is what makes the moment so memorable. The loneliness of this moment where you are in a strange place and unable (yet) to communicate is felt, but there's also a freedom and connection that stretches beyond the human and into creation itself.

That part about the clouds gathering to repent your sins. Thought that was excellent, and also, it's where the connection comes in for me. When all else fails, the earth around us can be this beautiful openness waiting to heal and welcome us in. Maybe it does it by soaking us first, haha, but sometime later, the feel of the rain may be the very thing to bring us back.

There's a lot of great things in this that I could talk about, but you never asked for an essay, so I'll leave it there. Great addition to your travelogue poems, Gram. I love these.

Posted 1 Week Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

gram linski

1 Week Ago

thanks, so much, Eilis, glad you picked up on the mixed bag of experience the good the bad the mad a.. read more



Reviews

I was thinking this was like the dream of travel, and then the thud of a current (somewhat oppressive) reality. Your title makes me think that there is some inherent thing within the speaker that makes him feel it is destiny for things to end this way. Like that idea that the traumas of our ancestors can affect our health. The past touches us through our DNA, and we have no way of transforming those parts of ourselves.

But, imagination is this glorious tool we have. In the universe of this poem, I think it reaches out to some things that seem impossible. But, also, there's the sense that if we have the imagination for it, it is not necessarily an impossibility. Maybe temporarily out of reach, but not impossible.

What I love about your travelogue poems is that they don't just glorify one view or the other. Travel, like life in general, is this mixed bag of experiences. The good and the bad can be mixed in a moment, and maybe that mixing is what makes the moment so memorable. The loneliness of this moment where you are in a strange place and unable (yet) to communicate is felt, but there's also a freedom and connection that stretches beyond the human and into creation itself.

That part about the clouds gathering to repent your sins. Thought that was excellent, and also, it's where the connection comes in for me. When all else fails, the earth around us can be this beautiful openness waiting to heal and welcome us in. Maybe it does it by soaking us first, haha, but sometime later, the feel of the rain may be the very thing to bring us back.

There's a lot of great things in this that I could talk about, but you never asked for an essay, so I'll leave it there. Great addition to your travelogue poems, Gram. I love these.

Posted 1 Week Ago


1 of 1 people found this review constructive.

gram linski

1 Week Ago

thanks, so much, Eilis, glad you picked up on the mixed bag of experience the good the bad the mad a.. read more

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Added on June 29, 2020
Last Updated on June 29, 2020

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gram linski
gram linski

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" If I lose the light of Sun, I will write by candlelight, moonlight, no light, if I lose paper and ink, I will write in blood on forgotten walls, I will write, always " H. Rollins more..

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A Poem by gram linski