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Morpheus: Have you ever had a dream, Neo, that you were so sure was real?
Neo: This can’t be…
Morpheus: Be what? Be real?
The strands thin like rubber cement as he pulls away, until the fragile wisps of mirror thread break.
Morpheus: What if you were unable to wake from that dream, Neo? How would you know the difference between the dream world and the real world?…
(From the screenplay of the film The Matrix (1997) by Larry and Andy Wachowski.)
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Loralie (extract)
Speedily scurry
bird flurry wing-tips, my mind dips cause heart flips
I ease myself gently
so
gently
through cliff thrift;
.
eDge
.
scree-shift
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Fright me, delight me, I tread now so lightly
clasp couchgrass, whistle maker
fingerthread
.
Below me, sea, tempestuously,
echoes siren_song
won’t be long
tumble_dash, bodysplash
oh such a messy gash
GullMew
crestSpew
look what I have done.
(2007)
Your poetry always seems to exist at the margin between two realms of being, it entices from one to the other and back again. This beautiful poem is a wonderful example, as Lorelie crosses that boundary herself.
only the word “lovely” comes to my mind, because my mind has been numbed by this beautiful piece. and even that word doesn’t seem to do it any justice.
this really sings!
is this from a much larger piece?
it is truly lovely–hard to point one part over the others–i love how it builds to the last 3 lines!
Splash! Look what you’ve done, ha! Sound, movement, twirls and excitement, how wonderful. Ebby, it feels so good even though it maybe shouldn’t. I know it’s not good saying more, more but look at the playful joy and angst and how they turn into art and wonder for others (and you?)… I so hope you turn onto your back and gaze at the sky as you float some more, passing it our way.
(nag, nag, such a nag I am… but just to tell you, some of your stories and poems are imprinted on my brain, so strong they were, and I miss them.)
I can feel the pulse in every line. I can feel the urgency. Great just great.
Also, btw, I thought the first Matrix was the best of all. Thanks.