"I had many things to write, but I will not with ink and pen write unto thee..."

POETRYrepairs v08.05:057

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JIM BENNETT dry-stone walls walls snake up hills cutting shapes out of the land -- paddocks for grazing sheep areas for new growth statements of ownership the land was open grazed and trodden until the wallbuilders took stone from the hillsides flat on flat curves on hollow filling voids and space with practiced eye the walls grew spaces for gates styles and crossing points and capped with the weight of millennia the walls stand an impossible labour --- copyright JIM BENNETT REPAIR: Concourse or confluence of people at or in a place; resort, frequent or habitual going; making one's way; to arrive; to dwell; to heal, to cure, to recover; to renew; (AND!) to fix to original condition. Oxford English Dictionary

"Poetry endangers the established order in the soul."

poetryREpairs v08.05:057

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LYN LIFSHIN ALL ABOUT ME Tho, Yes, I've Read with Alen Ginsberg, Last Night I Did It Again in a Bad Dream not exactly with him but he was there. I almost wasn't in the end. Well, let me tell you the weird night. The day before I met a man I felt, for a moment, wildly attracted to but when we landed in bed, I was horrified. I couldn't. I had to get out of there. Somehow it was in a house of women. I needed to hurry, tore into my clothes but left two favorite mugs and a postage size lime suede mini behind me. One woman runs after me waving chartreuse and mint. I've driven hours to where I'll read, see I have missed Allen Ginsberg who just finished, a bummer. He's in shorts, his head and upper body seem too big for his legs I'm thinking as I realize, still out of breath, I don't have my poems with mean. I have nothing handy. I'm wrecked, then I remember I'm not that far from my NY house and there must be something there so I speed thru traffic, dodge cops and red lights, take stairs 5 at a time and grab some books off the shelf only to see someone with a truck has blocked my car that probably won't start again, half the time it won't. Then, the alarm poetryREpairs.com welcomes your essay on a topic related to poetry.

"Repair Your Mind...Read More Poetry!"

poetryrePAIRs v07.03:057

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JIM BENNETT The Worm World on the surface the soil is warm sun dried and dusty coats my hands grey but when I dig down turn a spade full expose the dark cold worm world it frightens me bushes and trees dig down deeper than me churn up the soil push it aside pump up the moisture somehow they find comfort in it perhaps they cannot think about or see the decay in which they grow The hole we dig grows deeper longer than its width down into the darkness down into the bone chill earth down into the worm world where everyone sleeps at last --- copyright JIM BENNETT. "the Worm World" was previously published onpoetryrepairs 02.01:006 'all the fine arts are species of poetry'

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poetryrepairs v08.05:057
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