Greg Correll

W R I T E R

Greg Correll

Greg Correll
Location
New Paltz, New York, US
Birthday
September 21
Title
Founder, Chief of Deselopy (small packages); Editor (doesthismakesense.com)
Company
small packages, inc.
Bio
I write.

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APRIL 10, 2012 12:33AM

your inside story

Rate: 13 Flag
You, a lady like no other
I will always know the way of you.
You throw the blankets off your legs,
your sigh and irritated rocking,
the thump of your heel on the bed
when you say "no-o-o...",
when I ask "can I do for you?"

I know your inside story.
You did not ask for the work of me.
You guard the father, you wash my things—
O let us fly, let us rise on careless wings,
breath over the pines, be for
this time!
and soar to rest, atop up-turned cliffs,
far above the en-mired, settling sea,
the green-gloved sea a last sun reveals,

and far below, a moment of peach glows,
an arc of otters, at play in breakers,
and just you,
and just me,
we lie in purpled shadow
under ancient wild vine bowers

as Venus, Venus rises, rises over the stillborn seas
and we kiss, we pair, we you's, we me's,
we as Venus 'flected, bright beads sideways
our love is not work, not always

—me, a failing, shaking other, far below,
you, a light, a beam, an arm, like no other.
536322_3633422876316_1296501805_3632041_2130823607_n

~|~
  Martha's Vineyard, April 1, 2012, atop Aquinnah cliff, above the otters
~|~
 

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Comments

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Warmed this crusty old heart, and that's a biggie.
...for me, I mean.
Thanks, Matt. And thanks for reading and commenting so often. Someday perhaps in the world to come we will hoist a chai or brew and ponder the evening star together.
If I could write like this.... Just glad you do and that I'm a beneficiary of this art.

r.
Beautiful in every way, all the more for being bittersweet. ((G))
Lovely. And Gazing at the One You Love while they sleep never gets old. To know the kind-of-love you write about is an ongoing blessing, a daily miracle in a world filled with loss & pain.
"You throw the blankets off your legs" -- one quirk our wives share. "Married women better than ourselves" -- something, I suspect, you and I share.
Greg,

What a beautiful expression of love for your wife!
Lovely. I strive to write this well. You have a fantastic soul.
Your really a poet...
........(¯`v´¯) (¯`v´¯)
☼•*¨`*•.¸.(ˆ◡ˆ).¸.•*
............... *•.¸.•* ♥⋆★•❥ Thanx & Smiles (ツ) & ♥ L☼√Ξ ☼ ♥
⋆───★•❥ ☼ .¸¸.•*`*•.♥ (ˆ◡ˆ) ♥⋯ ❤ ⋯ ★(ˆ◡ˆ) ♥⋯ ❤ ⋯ ★
You both seem to handle your infirmaries with dignity and some melancholia. We don't handle as well here; every 5 days or so arguments erupt/depression/denial/self pity/dreams of running away.
poetry is a burnished ring, Deborah Young. Two nights ago I channeled it into a poem. Last night though i was up again for hours, At one point, after trying to read a single page in Appian's The Civil War for almost 20 minutes, I threw the book. I never harm books but i threw that one down. I woke up my wife and she got mad, We went thru 15 minutes of me struggling to say how some nights I just can't read, how i read the word "observance" and it enters my head "natural" and even when I say it out loud I say "nature" or "nation" unless I say each word around it out loud a few times and very slowly. I thus lose the ability to scan and absorb or even understand the arc, the flow, the real meaning. At my best -- up until a year ago -- I would read, have and remember relevant parts of a few related books nearby, scribble notes, and be thinking about it all, formulating a response to the page, lying in wait for insight or disagreement and how to articulate it, admiring well-formed prose -- and all more or less at the same time. My ability to do that is now diminished, and hardly ever comes back in the evening. I wept. She calmed down, patted me, and went back to sleep. I lay in the dark mumbling, my right arm and leg twitching and shaking, for another hour and fell asleep. THAT is the normal reality. We share that fractured and and cut-tin-edge of the world, Deborah. All the best to you, and thank you all for your kind comments.
Greg,Both lucky,you and your wife, to have each other and you know it better than me..Such the beauty of the words..as the beauty of the image..Rated..It is a wonderful sign of heart,only to be admired both on the words,the insρirations and the feelings.Beauty in all ways....Thank you for sharing.