from Arthur Dimmesdale to Hester Prynne with love

[joel]

For Hester Prynne: I write you now in black
ink— jet coal anthracitic letters linked
in praises so intense for you that if
this letter red at all appears, you’ll know
it’s burned with gut-borne brimstone fire alone—
and holy fire at that: I love you so.
I write and if this love is read aloud,
no shameful whispers, please; for I am proud
of this— too proud of love to let you go
as if I were embarrassed. I own
my want, desire and lack of you— and oh,
if I am branded, make it gorgeous. If,
as you were, I am marked, then see me inked
with H and P— and write on me in black.

[hester_prynne]

Dearest Dimmesdale!
You speak with such candor!
Your lambs,
will bleat their disapproval,
whilst I in my heart of hearts
tremble at your words twofold,
that their cries be drowned out
in the clamor of truth's lunacy,
that you come to your senses
as society depends.
They in the end will find
their brimstone,
you and I will find
what we were not allowed of here.

Delightful Joel!
H

[joel]

...was just looking for a healthy, productive way to applaud an honest artist.

[hester_prynne]

Wow! Thank you Joel. I applaud right back at you, and remind you, that "it takes one to know one..."

H

[Totenkopf]

Nate Hawthorne, staff writer, Days of Our lives...................(beauteous "A" tho' Hes..................

[hester_prynne]

Indeed dear toto, it's nuthin but a soap opera now, that is, unless you have a capacity to go back in time with intelligence and sensitivity, and read it from there.
The future will never destroy nor erase the past for me.
I revere it, it remains my greatest teacher.
Perhaps that is what makes me so understanding of you, so entertained by you, darling.
Smoochies,
H

[stilltrucking]

Takes one to know one
I know Roger hester.

"Yes I hate him he has done me worse than I him"
mangled quote from memory

sorry for ramble joel
what can I say
you are on a roll

[joel]

It is a beautiful A. A truly indefinite article. A child's first I-Can-Spell-It word. A and omega.

A

A child worth loving--a pearl of greatest value, one for which to sell everything else. We do our best to get to the best place we can--but luckily (blessedly?) we still get there despite our detours and u-turns.

And if the world wants to know what life is about, I'm willing to show them with a giant red letter A. I'm not intimidated by what I am and I won't be ashamed of or denied by what definitions others might like to assume for themselves. If they're threatened by us, the letters or the stars or the triangles or the gang colors or the designer jeans or the whatever won't matter at all.

A to Z, baby--A to Z.

[tinkerjack]

Actual quote from Hawthorne that I mangled above

“Be it sin or no,” said Hester Prynne bitterly, as she still gazed after him, “I hate the man!” 2
She upbraided herself for the sentiment, but could not overcome or lessen it...And it seemed a fouler offence committed by Roger Chillingworth, than any which had since been done him, that, in the time when her heart knew no better, he had persuaded her to fancy herself happy by his side. 3
“Yes, I hate him!” repeated Hester, more bitterly than before. “He betrayed me! He has done me worse wrong than I did him!” 4
Let men tremble to win the hand of woman, unless they win along with it the utmost passion of her heart!
.

But she named the infant “Pearl,” as being of great price—purchased with all she had—her mother’s only treasure! How strange, indeed! Man had marked this woman’s sin by a scarlet letter, which had such potent and disastrous efficacy that no human sympathy could reach her, save it were sinful like herself.

Once this freakish, elvish cast came into the child's eyes while Hester was looking at her own image in them, as mothers are fond of doing; and suddenly for women in solitude, and with troubled hearts, are pestered with unaccountable delusions she fancied that she beheld, not her own miniature portrait, but another face in the small black mirror of Pearl's eye. It was a face, fiend-like, full of smiling malice, yet bearing the semblance of features that she had known full well, though seldom with a smile, and never with malice in them. It was as if an evil spirit possessed the child, and had just then peeped forth in mockery. Many a time afterwards had Hester been tortured, though less vividly, by the same illusion.

http://www.bartleby.com/83/15.html

The quantum mechanics says no two particles ever connected can ever be seperated. There is always a connection, even if they are on the opposite sides of the galaxy they are still entangled wiht each other some how, So much more for a mother a daughter.


Tinker Jack--Sylvia Plath

"No form's gone so awry
Crook-back or bandy-leg
But Tinker Jack can forge
Beauty from hag"

I once did a cut up of Plath's poem and Hawthorne's novel, never can find it again.

nice poem Joel
not just saying that
I thought it was a beautiful poem


truly sorry for the long ramble and the quotes
if you can let me slide on this
it would be a kindness.

[Doreen Peri]

Love the poem, joel!
Love the theme and the poet you dedicated it too, also!

.....

jack, who are you quoting?

[joel]

truly sorry for the long ramble and the quotes

What else is life? I don't judge, lest I be judged--all I do is quote and ramble. Thanks (to all) for pushing the thinking beyond where it starts!

[Totenkopf]

Hawthorne: a sort of American Shakespeare, eloquent, yeah, with a certain complex subtlety at times (peruse for kix "My Kinsman, Major Molineux," or "Rappaccini's Daughter"--in ways the late Nate somewhat preferable to the NH of the Scarlet A, or the gothic bubblegum of Y.G. Brown), but all the chi chi BS of a Shakespeare as well--a "belle-lettrist" as they formerly called 'em. EA Poe: more like an American Shelley, occasionally frilly, or self-indulgent , but his gothic is hardly bubblegum. And probably more schooled in Latin, classics, science, than Nate was (and certainly a more capable scribbler than mad preacher Hermie Hellville). Poe prose is thankfully free of all that journalistic bravado that starts with like Twain (and Crane--tho' Crane in ways a very great writer--realist to the core). Some lit. snobs (including RA Emerson, I believe) denigrated EAP's poesy: hah. EAP's best poetry--like Annabel Lee---, however quaint (the rhymes are a bit old-fashioned and lyrical in sections) equal to about any ever produced by an Englishman, "romantics" included (including wannabe Englishmen such as Yeats).

[hester_prynne]

1
"To be Seen

All truth
Wishes to be seen
Because it belongs
To the light of Heaven;
And truth that is not seen
May be falsified
In many ways.
And falsified truth
Is falsity."

2
"Blaze and Glisten

As the garments of angels
Correspond to their intelligence
They correspond also
To Truth
Since all intelligence
Is from divine truth;
And therefore it is the same
Whether you say
That angels are clothed
In accordance with intelligence
Or in accordance
With divine truth.
The garments of some
Blaze as if with flame,
And those of others
Glisten as if with light,
Because flame
Corresponds to good,
And light to truth."

E. Swedenborg
(My hero)
H