On Friday, November 6, 2015 at 8:25:38 AM UTC-5, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> On Thursday, November 5, 2015 at 10:00:55 PM UTC-5, Blackpooljimmy wrote:
> > On Thursday, November 5, 2015 at 9:40:48 PM UTC-5, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > I WALK WITH DEATH
> > >
> > >
> > > I walk with Death
> > > Down quiet cobbled streets
> > > Or country lanes that swirl
> > > Through Autumn hills
> > > Where ev'ry tree
> > > In gypsied splendor greets
> > > My dark-eyed love
> > > Whose slightest whisper fills
> > > The brittle air with wisps
> > > Of ancient song.
> > >
> > > I take her hand
> > > And lead her through the day
> > > As flowers fade
> > > And shadows race along,
> > > Attend her footsteps
> > > As we make our way
> > > Through tumbling leaves
> > > Of crimson, brown and gold.
> > >
> > > We watch the farmers
> > > Harvesting their grain,
> > > Their sickles glist'ning
> > > In November cold,
> > > Jaws tense against the air
> > > And muscles strain
> > > Till cornstalks strew the field
> > > Like last night's tears.
> > >
> > > I smile at Death
> > > And softly trace her cheek
> > > With fingers hardened
> > > By the passing years;
> > > Gaze deep in dancing eyes
> > > That long to speak
> > > Of dreams like fallen leaves
> > > Beneath the rain
> > > That stings the barren land
> > > With Winter chill;
> > > Forgotten lovers' words
> > > That strive in vain
> > > To span the rolling centuries until
> > > Fresh marigolds
> > > Anoint the April breeze,
> > > And apple trees swing low
> > > Their blossomed boughs
> > > As farmhands scrape the rust
> > > From last year's plows,
> > > And lovers' vows
> > > Break through the frozen sod
> > > And brush away
> > > The ghosts of Winter snows,
> > > To spread their fledgling leaves
> > > Like newborn gods.
> > >
> > > Death watches all,
> > > Complacent and serene
> > > As mothers watch
> > > Their barefoot children play;
> > > As hand-in-hand
> > > We stroll from scene to scene,
> > > Past singing brooks
> > > The color of the day,
> > > Past wooly bison
> > > Primal, broad, and proud,
> > > Or laughing oaks
> > > That stretch across the sky
> > > As though to pluck
> > > The sunlight from a cloud
> > > While willows croon
> > > A noontime lullaby.
> > >
> > > I walk with Death,
> > > My quiet, gentle love
> > > And marvel that
> > > I'd ever feared her glance
> > > Or worried that
> > > Her tender touch might prove
> > > An ending to this lilliput romance,
> > > This fairy fable
> > > Fondly fashioned 'life,'
> > > When in her eyes
> > > I gaze beyond the night
> > > And know her as
> > > My mother, lover, wife --
> > > A promise of unspeakable delight.
> >
> > For me, the fourth stanza stands alone, separate with its message: death the lover, friend, companion...
> >
> > Enjoyed all...but that fourth was most tidy.
> >
> > Jim
> Thanks Jim.
>
> This poem is important to me in that it plays a couple of key transitional roles in the collection I'm writing. The poet's relationship with Death is explored through a series of poems interspersed throughout the book. Initially Death is portrayed as a monster of which the poet is both obsessed by and afraid of. Death is also a male character in the previous poems, and is always presented as acting upon the speaker ("Death catches me"). In this poem, the speaker has taken the dominate role in the relationship ("I walk with Death"), who has been transformed into a beautiful woman -- not submissive, but an equal counterpart. This poem also signals an end to the mostly downbeat poems of this section -- and a start to the more positive, poet-as-rebel-hero, poems that will bring the collection to its close. At least that's the game plan -- my Muse is fickle and subversive, and often leads me off in different directions than I'd planned.
>

I consider this poem to be one of my best videos as well.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uWtyT4EFGJ0&t=12s

On Friday, March 17, 2023 at 7:24:15 PM UTC, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> On Friday, November 6, 2015 at 8:25:38 AM UTC-5, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > On Thursday, November 5, 2015 at 10:00:55 PM UTC-5, Blackpooljimmy wrote:
> > > On Thursday, November 5, 2015 at 9:40:48 PM UTC-5, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > > I WALK WITH DEATH
> > > >
> > > >
> > > > I walk with Death
> > > > Down quiet cobbled streets
> > > > Or country lanes that swirl
> > > > Through Autumn hills
> > > > Where ev'ry tree
> > > > In gypsied splendor greets
> > > > My dark-eyed love
> > > > Whose slightest whisper fills
> > > > The brittle air with wisps
> > > > Of ancient song.
> > > >
> > > > I take her hand
> > > > And lead her through the day
> > > > As flowers fade
> > > > And shadows race along,
> > > > Attend her footsteps
> > > > As we make our way
> > > > Through tumbling leaves
> > > > Of crimson, brown and gold.
> > > >
> > > > We watch the farmers
> > > > Harvesting their grain,
> > > > Their sickles glist'ning
> > > > In November cold,
> > > > Jaws tense against the air
> > > > And muscles strain
> > > > Till cornstalks strew the field
> > > > Like last night's tears.
> > > >
> > > > I smile at Death
> > > > And softly trace her cheek
> > > > With fingers hardened
> > > > By the passing years;
> > > > Gaze deep in dancing eyes
> > > > That long to speak
> > > > Of dreams like fallen leaves
> > > > Beneath the rain
> > > > That stings the barren land
> > > > With Winter chill;
> > > > Forgotten lovers' words
> > > > That strive in vain
> > > > To span the rolling centuries until
> > > > Fresh marigolds
> > > > Anoint the April breeze,
> > > > And apple trees swing low
> > > > Their blossomed boughs
> > > > As farmhands scrape the rust
> > > > From last year's plows,
> > > > And lovers' vows
> > > > Break through the frozen sod
> > > > And brush away
> > > > The ghosts of Winter snows,
> > > > To spread their fledgling leaves
> > > > Like newborn gods.
> > > >
> > > > Death watches all,
> > > > Complacent and serene
> > > > As mothers watch
> > > > Their barefoot children play;
> > > > As hand-in-hand
> > > > We stroll from scene to scene,
> > > > Past singing brooks
> > > > The color of the day,
> > > > Past wooly bison
> > > > Primal, broad, and proud,
> > > > Or laughing oaks
> > > > That stretch across the sky
> > > > As though to pluck
> > > > The sunlight from a cloud
> > > > While willows croon
> > > > A noontime lullaby.
> > > >
> > > > I walk with Death,
> > > > My quiet, gentle love
> > > > And marvel that
> > > > I'd ever feared her glance
> > > > Or worried that
> > > > Her tender touch might prove
> > > > An ending to this lilliput romance,
> > > > This fairy fable
> > > > Fondly fashioned 'life,'
> > > > When in her eyes
> > > > I gaze beyond the night
> > > > And know her as
> > > > My mother, lover, wife --
> > > > A promise of unspeakable delight.
> > >
> > > For me, the fourth stanza stands alone, separate with its message: death the lover, friend, companion...
> > >
> > > Enjoyed all...but that fourth was most tidy.
> > >
> > > Jim
> > Thanks Jim.
> >
> > This poem is important to me in that it plays a couple of key transitional roles in the collection I'm writing. The poet's relationship with Death is explored through a series of poems interspersed throughout the book. Initially Death is portrayed as a monster of which the poet is both obsessed by and afraid of. Death is also a male character in the previous poems, and is always presented as acting upon the speaker ("Death catches me"). In this poem, the speaker has taken the dominate role in the relationship ("I walk with Death"), who has been transformed into a beautiful woman -- not submissive, but an equal counterpart. This poem also signals an end to the mostly downbeat poems of this section -- and a start to the more positive, poet-as-rebel-hero, poems that will bring the collection to its close. At least that's the game plan -- my Muse is fickle and subversive, and often leads me off in different directions than I'd planned.
> >
> I consider this poem to be one of my best videos as well.
>
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uWtyT4EFGJ0&t=12s

Excellent, and the black and white format is very effective. We spied Hedy Lamarr in the photos! (not to be confused with Harvey Korman)

On Friday, March 17, 2023 at 3:35:36 PM UTC-4, NancyGene wrote:
> On Friday, March 17, 2023 at 7:24:15 PM UTC, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > On Friday, November 6, 2015 at 8:25:38 AM UTC-5, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > On Thursday, November 5, 2015 at 10:00:55 PM UTC-5, Blackpooljimmy wrote:
> > > > On Thursday, November 5, 2015 at 9:40:48 PM UTC-5, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > > > I WALK WITH DEATH
> > > > >
> > > > >
> > > > > I walk with Death
> > > > > Down quiet cobbled streets
> > > > > Or country lanes that swirl
> > > > > Through Autumn hills
> > > > > Where ev'ry tree
> > > > > In gypsied splendor greets
> > > > > My dark-eyed love
> > > > > Whose slightest whisper fills
> > > > > The brittle air with wisps
> > > > > Of ancient song.
> > > > >
> > > > > I take her hand
> > > > > And lead her through the day
> > > > > As flowers fade
> > > > > And shadows race along,
> > > > > Attend her footsteps
> > > > > As we make our way
> > > > > Through tumbling leaves
> > > > > Of crimson, brown and gold.
> > > > >
> > > > > We watch the farmers
> > > > > Harvesting their grain,
> > > > > Their sickles glist'ning
> > > > > In November cold,
> > > > > Jaws tense against the air
> > > > > And muscles strain
> > > > > Till cornstalks strew the field
> > > > > Like last night's tears.
> > > > >
> > > > > I smile at Death
> > > > > And softly trace her cheek
> > > > > With fingers hardened
> > > > > By the passing years;
> > > > > Gaze deep in dancing eyes
> > > > > That long to speak
> > > > > Of dreams like fallen leaves
> > > > > Beneath the rain
> > > > > That stings the barren land
> > > > > With Winter chill;
> > > > > Forgotten lovers' words
> > > > > That strive in vain
> > > > > To span the rolling centuries until
> > > > > Fresh marigolds
> > > > > Anoint the April breeze,
> > > > > And apple trees swing low
> > > > > Their blossomed boughs
> > > > > As farmhands scrape the rust
> > > > > From last year's plows,
> > > > > And lovers' vows
> > > > > Break through the frozen sod
> > > > > And brush away
> > > > > The ghosts of Winter snows,
> > > > > To spread their fledgling leaves
> > > > > Like newborn gods.
> > > > >
> > > > > Death watches all,
> > > > > Complacent and serene
> > > > > As mothers watch
> > > > > Their barefoot children play;
> > > > > As hand-in-hand
> > > > > We stroll from scene to scene,
> > > > > Past singing brooks
> > > > > The color of the day,
> > > > > Past wooly bison
> > > > > Primal, broad, and proud,
> > > > > Or laughing oaks
> > > > > That stretch across the sky
> > > > > As though to pluck
> > > > > The sunlight from a cloud
> > > > > While willows croon
> > > > > A noontime lullaby.
> > > > >
> > > > > I walk with Death,
> > > > > My quiet, gentle love
> > > > > And marvel that
> > > > > I'd ever feared her glance
> > > > > Or worried that
> > > > > Her tender touch might prove
> > > > > An ending to this lilliput romance,
> > > > > This fairy fable
> > > > > Fondly fashioned 'life,'
> > > > > When in her eyes
> > > > > I gaze beyond the night
> > > > > And know her as
> > > > > My mother, lover, wife --
> > > > > A promise of unspeakable delight.
> > > >
> > > > For me, the fourth stanza stands alone, separate with its message: death the lover, friend, companion...
> > > >
> > > > Enjoyed all...but that fourth was most tidy.
> > > >
> > > > Jim
> > > Thanks Jim.
> > >
> > > This poem is important to me in that it plays a couple of key transitional roles in the collection I'm writing. The poet's relationship with Death is explored through a series of poems interspersed throughout the book. Initially Death is portrayed as a monster of which the poet is both obsessed by and afraid of. Death is also a male character in the previous poems, and is always presented as acting upon the speaker ("Death catches me"). In this poem, the speaker has taken the dominate role in the relationship ("I walk with Death"), who has been transformed into a beautiful woman -- not submissive, but an equal counterpart. This poem also signals an end to the mostly downbeat poems of this section -- and a start to the more positive, poet-as-rebel-hero, poems that will bring the collection to its close. At least that's the game plan -- my Muse is fickle and subversive, and often leads me off in different directions than I'd planned.
> > >
> > I consider this poem to be one of my best videos as well.
> >
> > https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uWtyT4EFGJ0&t=12s
> Excellent, and the black and white format is very effective. We spied Hedy Lamarr in the photos! (not to be confused with Harvey Korman)

I'm hoping that when Death comes for me, She looks like Hedy Lamarr.

On Sunday, March 19, 2023 at 12:57:27 AM UTC, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> On Friday, March 17, 2023 at 3:35:36 PM UTC-4, NancyGene wrote:
> > On Friday, March 17, 2023 at 7:24:15 PM UTC, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > On Friday, November 6, 2015 at 8:25:38 AM UTC-5, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > > On Thursday, November 5, 2015 at 10:00:55 PM UTC-5, Blackpooljimmy wrote:
> > > > > On Thursday, November 5, 2015 at 9:40:48 PM UTC-5, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > > > > I WALK WITH DEATH
> > > > > >
> > > > > >
> > > > > > I walk with Death
> > > > > > Down quiet cobbled streets
> > > > > > Or country lanes that swirl
> > > > > > Through Autumn hills
> > > > > > Where ev'ry tree
> > > > > > In gypsied splendor greets
> > > > > > My dark-eyed love
> > > > > > Whose slightest whisper fills
> > > > > > The brittle air with wisps
> > > > > > Of ancient song.
> > > > > >
> > > > > > I take her hand
> > > > > > And lead her through the day
> > > > > > As flowers fade
> > > > > > And shadows race along,
> > > > > > Attend her footsteps
> > > > > > As we make our way
> > > > > > Through tumbling leaves
> > > > > > Of crimson, brown and gold.
> > > > > >
> > > > > > We watch the farmers
> > > > > > Harvesting their grain,
> > > > > > Their sickles glist'ning
> > > > > > In November cold,
> > > > > > Jaws tense against the air
> > > > > > And muscles strain
> > > > > > Till cornstalks strew the field
> > > > > > Like last night's tears.
> > > > > >
> > > > > > I smile at Death
> > > > > > And softly trace her cheek
> > > > > > With fingers hardened
> > > > > > By the passing years;
> > > > > > Gaze deep in dancing eyes
> > > > > > That long to speak
> > > > > > Of dreams like fallen leaves
> > > > > > Beneath the rain
> > > > > > That stings the barren land
> > > > > > With Winter chill;
> > > > > > Forgotten lovers' words
> > > > > > That strive in vain
> > > > > > To span the rolling centuries until
> > > > > > Fresh marigolds
> > > > > > Anoint the April breeze,
> > > > > > And apple trees swing low
> > > > > > Their blossomed boughs
> > > > > > As farmhands scrape the rust
> > > > > > From last year's plows,
> > > > > > And lovers' vows
> > > > > > Break through the frozen sod
> > > > > > And brush away
> > > > > > The ghosts of Winter snows,
> > > > > > To spread their fledgling leaves
> > > > > > Like newborn gods.
> > > > > >
> > > > > > Death watches all,
> > > > > > Complacent and serene
> > > > > > As mothers watch
> > > > > > Their barefoot children play;
> > > > > > As hand-in-hand
> > > > > > We stroll from scene to scene,
> > > > > > Past singing brooks
> > > > > > The color of the day,
> > > > > > Past wooly bison
> > > > > > Primal, broad, and proud,
> > > > > > Or laughing oaks
> > > > > > That stretch across the sky
> > > > > > As though to pluck
> > > > > > The sunlight from a cloud
> > > > > > While willows croon
> > > > > > A noontime lullaby.
> > > > > >
> > > > > > I walk with Death,
> > > > > > My quiet, gentle love
> > > > > > And marvel that
> > > > > > I'd ever feared her glance
> > > > > > Or worried that
> > > > > > Her tender touch might prove
> > > > > > An ending to this lilliput romance,
> > > > > > This fairy fable
> > > > > > Fondly fashioned 'life,'
> > > > > > When in her eyes
> > > > > > I gaze beyond the night
> > > > > > And know her as
> > > > > > My mother, lover, wife --
> > > > > > A promise of unspeakable delight.
> > > > >
> > > > > For me, the fourth stanza stands alone, separate with its message: death the lover, friend, companion...
> > > > >
> > > > > Enjoyed all...but that fourth was most tidy.
> > > > >
> > > > > Jim
> > > > Thanks Jim.
> > > >
> > > > This poem is important to me in that it plays a couple of key transitional roles in the collection I'm writing. The poet's relationship with Death is explored through a series of poems interspersed throughout the book.. Initially Death is portrayed as a monster of which the poet is both obsessed by and afraid of. Death is also a male character in the previous poems, and is always presented as acting upon the speaker ("Death catches me"). In this poem, the speaker has taken the dominate role in the relationship ("I walk with Death"), who has been transformed into a beautiful woman -- not submissive, but an equal counterpart. This poem also signals an end to the mostly downbeat poems of this section -- and a start to the more positive, poet-as-rebel-hero, poems that will bring the collection to its close. At least that's the game plan -- my Muse is fickle and subversive, and often leads me off in different directions than I'd planned.
> > > >
> > > I consider this poem to be one of my best videos as well.
> > >
> > > https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uWtyT4EFGJ0&t=12s
> > Excellent, and the black and white format is very effective. We spied Hedy Lamarr in the photos! (not to be confused with Harvey Korman)
> I'm hoping that when Death comes for me, She looks like Hedy Lamarr.
She was smart and beautiful. Here she is greeting Michael Pendragon at his end:
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_kUcfAGXk9Y

On Sunday, March 19, 2023 at 9:24:49 AM UTC-4, NancyGene wrote:
> On Sunday, March 19, 2023 at 12:57:27 AM UTC, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > On Friday, March 17, 2023 at 3:35:36 PM UTC-4, NancyGene wrote:
> > > On Friday, March 17, 2023 at 7:24:15 PM UTC, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > > On Friday, November 6, 2015 at 8:25:38 AM UTC-5, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > > > On Thursday, November 5, 2015 at 10:00:55 PM UTC-5, Blackpooljimmy wrote:
> > > > > > On Thursday, November 5, 2015 at 9:40:48 PM UTC-5, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > > > > > I WALK WITH DEATH
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > I walk with Death
> > > > > > > Down quiet cobbled streets
> > > > > > > Or country lanes that swirl
> > > > > > > Through Autumn hills
> > > > > > > Where ev'ry tree
> > > > > > > In gypsied splendor greets
> > > > > > > My dark-eyed love
> > > > > > > Whose slightest whisper fills
> > > > > > > The brittle air with wisps
> > > > > > > Of ancient song.
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > I take her hand
> > > > > > > And lead her through the day
> > > > > > > As flowers fade
> > > > > > > And shadows race along,
> > > > > > > Attend her footsteps
> > > > > > > As we make our way
> > > > > > > Through tumbling leaves
> > > > > > > Of crimson, brown and gold.
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > We watch the farmers
> > > > > > > Harvesting their grain,
> > > > > > > Their sickles glist'ning
> > > > > > > In November cold,
> > > > > > > Jaws tense against the air
> > > > > > > And muscles strain
> > > > > > > Till cornstalks strew the field
> > > > > > > Like last night's tears.
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > I smile at Death
> > > > > > > And softly trace her cheek
> > > > > > > With fingers hardened
> > > > > > > By the passing years;
> > > > > > > Gaze deep in dancing eyes
> > > > > > > That long to speak
> > > > > > > Of dreams like fallen leaves
> > > > > > > Beneath the rain
> > > > > > > That stings the barren land
> > > > > > > With Winter chill;
> > > > > > > Forgotten lovers' words
> > > > > > > That strive in vain
> > > > > > > To span the rolling centuries until
> > > > > > > Fresh marigolds
> > > > > > > Anoint the April breeze,
> > > > > > > And apple trees swing low
> > > > > > > Their blossomed boughs
> > > > > > > As farmhands scrape the rust
> > > > > > > From last year's plows,
> > > > > > > And lovers' vows
> > > > > > > Break through the frozen sod
> > > > > > > And brush away
> > > > > > > The ghosts of Winter snows,
> > > > > > > To spread their fledgling leaves
> > > > > > > Like newborn gods.
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > Death watches all,
> > > > > > > Complacent and serene
> > > > > > > As mothers watch
> > > > > > > Their barefoot children play;
> > > > > > > As hand-in-hand
> > > > > > > We stroll from scene to scene,
> > > > > > > Past singing brooks
> > > > > > > The color of the day,
> > > > > > > Past wooly bison
> > > > > > > Primal, broad, and proud,
> > > > > > > Or laughing oaks
> > > > > > > That stretch across the sky
> > > > > > > As though to pluck
> > > > > > > The sunlight from a cloud
> > > > > > > While willows croon
> > > > > > > A noontime lullaby.
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > I walk with Death,
> > > > > > > My quiet, gentle love
> > > > > > > And marvel that
> > > > > > > I'd ever feared her glance
> > > > > > > Or worried that
> > > > > > > Her tender touch might prove
> > > > > > > An ending to this lilliput romance,
> > > > > > > This fairy fable
> > > > > > > Fondly fashioned 'life,'
> > > > > > > When in her eyes
> > > > > > > I gaze beyond the night
> > > > > > > And know her as
> > > > > > > My mother, lover, wife --
> > > > > > > A promise of unspeakable delight.
> > > > > >
> > > > > > For me, the fourth stanza stands alone, separate with its message: death the lover, friend, companion...
> > > > > >
> > > > > > Enjoyed all...but that fourth was most tidy.
> > > > > >
> > > > > > Jim
> > > > > Thanks Jim.
> > > > >
> > > > > This poem is important to me in that it plays a couple of key transitional roles in the collection I'm writing. The poet's relationship with Death is explored through a series of poems interspersed throughout the book. Initially Death is portrayed as a monster of which the poet is both obsessed by and afraid of. Death is also a male character in the previous poems, and is always presented as acting upon the speaker ("Death catches me"). In this poem, the speaker has taken the dominate role in the relationship ("I walk with Death"), who has been transformed into a beautiful woman -- not submissive, but an equal counterpart. This poem also signals an end to the mostly downbeat poems of this section -- and a start to the more positive, poet-as-rebel-hero, poems that will bring the collection to its close. At least that's the game plan -- my Muse is fickle and subversive, and often leads me off in different directions than I'd planned.
> > > > >
> > > > I consider this poem to be one of my best videos as well.
> > > >
> > > > https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uWtyT4EFGJ0&t=12s
> > > Excellent, and the black and white format is very effective. We spied Hedy Lamarr in the photos! (not to be confused with Harvey Korman)
> > I'm hoping that when Death comes for me, She looks like Hedy Lamarr.
> She was smart and beautiful. Here she is greeting Michael Pendragon at his end:
> https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_kUcfAGXk9Y

That's one Death I would stop for.

On Monday, March 20, 2023 at 3:56:49 AM UTC, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> On Sunday, March 19, 2023 at 9:24:49 AM UTC-4, NancyGene wrote:
> > On Sunday, March 19, 2023 at 12:57:27 AM UTC, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > On Friday, March 17, 2023 at 3:35:36 PM UTC-4, NancyGene wrote:
> > > > On Friday, March 17, 2023 at 7:24:15 PM UTC, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > > > On Friday, November 6, 2015 at 8:25:38 AM UTC-5, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > > > > On Thursday, November 5, 2015 at 10:00:55 PM UTC-5, Blackpooljimmy wrote:
> > > > > > > On Thursday, November 5, 2015 at 9:40:48 PM UTC-5, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > > > > > > I WALK WITH DEATH
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > I walk with Death
> > > > > > > > Down quiet cobbled streets
> > > > > > > > Or country lanes that swirl
> > > > > > > > Through Autumn hills
> > > > > > > > Where ev'ry tree
> > > > > > > > In gypsied splendor greets
> > > > > > > > My dark-eyed love
> > > > > > > > Whose slightest whisper fills
> > > > > > > > The brittle air with wisps
> > > > > > > > Of ancient song.
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > I take her hand
> > > > > > > > And lead her through the day
> > > > > > > > As flowers fade
> > > > > > > > And shadows race along,
> > > > > > > > Attend her footsteps
> > > > > > > > As we make our way
> > > > > > > > Through tumbling leaves
> > > > > > > > Of crimson, brown and gold.
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > We watch the farmers
> > > > > > > > Harvesting their grain,
> > > > > > > > Their sickles glist'ning
> > > > > > > > In November cold,
> > > > > > > > Jaws tense against the air
> > > > > > > > And muscles strain
> > > > > > > > Till cornstalks strew the field
> > > > > > > > Like last night's tears.
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > I smile at Death
> > > > > > > > And softly trace her cheek
> > > > > > > > With fingers hardened
> > > > > > > > By the passing years;
> > > > > > > > Gaze deep in dancing eyes
> > > > > > > > That long to speak
> > > > > > > > Of dreams like fallen leaves
> > > > > > > > Beneath the rain
> > > > > > > > That stings the barren land
> > > > > > > > With Winter chill;
> > > > > > > > Forgotten lovers' words
> > > > > > > > That strive in vain
> > > > > > > > To span the rolling centuries until
> > > > > > > > Fresh marigolds
> > > > > > > > Anoint the April breeze,
> > > > > > > > And apple trees swing low
> > > > > > > > Their blossomed boughs
> > > > > > > > As farmhands scrape the rust
> > > > > > > > From last year's plows,
> > > > > > > > And lovers' vows
> > > > > > > > Break through the frozen sod
> > > > > > > > And brush away
> > > > > > > > The ghosts of Winter snows,
> > > > > > > > To spread their fledgling leaves
> > > > > > > > Like newborn gods.
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > Death watches all,
> > > > > > > > Complacent and serene
> > > > > > > > As mothers watch
> > > > > > > > Their barefoot children play;
> > > > > > > > As hand-in-hand
> > > > > > > > We stroll from scene to scene,
> > > > > > > > Past singing brooks
> > > > > > > > The color of the day,
> > > > > > > > Past wooly bison
> > > > > > > > Primal, broad, and proud,
> > > > > > > > Or laughing oaks
> > > > > > > > That stretch across the sky
> > > > > > > > As though to pluck
> > > > > > > > The sunlight from a cloud
> > > > > > > > While willows croon
> > > > > > > > A noontime lullaby.
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > I walk with Death,
> > > > > > > > My quiet, gentle love
> > > > > > > > And marvel that
> > > > > > > > I'd ever feared her glance
> > > > > > > > Or worried that
> > > > > > > > Her tender touch might prove
> > > > > > > > An ending to this lilliput romance,
> > > > > > > > This fairy fable
> > > > > > > > Fondly fashioned 'life,'
> > > > > > > > When in her eyes
> > > > > > > > I gaze beyond the night
> > > > > > > > And know her as
> > > > > > > > My mother, lover, wife --
> > > > > > > > A promise of unspeakable delight.
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > For me, the fourth stanza stands alone, separate with its message: death the lover, friend, companion...
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > Enjoyed all...but that fourth was most tidy.
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > Jim
> > > > > > Thanks Jim.
> > > > > >
> > > > > > This poem is important to me in that it plays a couple of key transitional roles in the collection I'm writing. The poet's relationship with Death is explored through a series of poems interspersed throughout the book. Initially Death is portrayed as a monster of which the poet is both obsessed by and afraid of. Death is also a male character in the previous poems, and is always presented as acting upon the speaker ("Death catches me"). In this poem, the speaker has taken the dominate role in the relationship ("I walk with Death"), who has been transformed into a beautiful woman -- not submissive, but an equal counterpart. This poem also signals an end to the mostly downbeat poems of this section -- and a start to the more positive, poet-as-rebel-hero, poems that will bring the collection to its close. At least that's the game plan -- my Muse is fickle and subversive, and often leads me off in different directions than I'd planned.
> > > > > >
> > > > > I consider this poem to be one of my best videos as well.
> > > > >
> > > > > https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uWtyT4EFGJ0&t=12s
> > > > Excellent, and the black and white format is very effective. We spied Hedy Lamarr in the photos! (not to be confused with Harvey Korman)
> > > I'm hoping that when Death comes for me, She looks like Hedy Lamarr.
> > She was smart and beautiful. Here she is greeting Michael Pendragon at his end:
> > https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_kUcfAGXk9Y
> That's one Death I would stop for.

There was a "look" at that time in dark-haired female beauty: Ava Gardner, Gene Tierney, Hedy Lamarr, Vivien Leigh. They all had similar features. The blondes made a comeback, though. There was also the redhead phase.

On Monday, March 20, 2023 at 10:02:31 AM UTC-4, NancyGene wrote:
> On Monday, March 20, 2023 at 3:56:49 AM UTC, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > On Sunday, March 19, 2023 at 9:24:49 AM UTC-4, NancyGene wrote:
> > > On Sunday, March 19, 2023 at 12:57:27 AM UTC, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > > On Friday, March 17, 2023 at 3:35:36 PM UTC-4, NancyGene wrote:
> > > > > On Friday, March 17, 2023 at 7:24:15 PM UTC, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > > > > On Friday, November 6, 2015 at 8:25:38 AM UTC-5, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > > > > > On Thursday, November 5, 2015 at 10:00:55 PM UTC-5, Blackpooljimmy wrote:
> > > > > > > > On Thursday, November 5, 2015 at 9:40:48 PM UTC-5, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > > > > > > > I WALK WITH DEATH
> > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > I walk with Death
> > > > > > > > > Down quiet cobbled streets
> > > > > > > > > Or country lanes that swirl
> > > > > > > > > Through Autumn hills
> > > > > > > > > Where ev'ry tree
> > > > > > > > > In gypsied splendor greets
> > > > > > > > > My dark-eyed love
> > > > > > > > > Whose slightest whisper fills
> > > > > > > > > The brittle air with wisps
> > > > > > > > > Of ancient song.
> > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > I take her hand
> > > > > > > > > And lead her through the day
> > > > > > > > > As flowers fade
> > > > > > > > > And shadows race along,
> > > > > > > > > Attend her footsteps
> > > > > > > > > As we make our way
> > > > > > > > > Through tumbling leaves
> > > > > > > > > Of crimson, brown and gold.
> > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > We watch the farmers
> > > > > > > > > Harvesting their grain,
> > > > > > > > > Their sickles glist'ning
> > > > > > > > > In November cold,
> > > > > > > > > Jaws tense against the air
> > > > > > > > > And muscles strain
> > > > > > > > > Till cornstalks strew the field
> > > > > > > > > Like last night's tears.
> > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > I smile at Death
> > > > > > > > > And softly trace her cheek
> > > > > > > > > With fingers hardened
> > > > > > > > > By the passing years;
> > > > > > > > > Gaze deep in dancing eyes
> > > > > > > > > That long to speak
> > > > > > > > > Of dreams like fallen leaves
> > > > > > > > > Beneath the rain
> > > > > > > > > That stings the barren land
> > > > > > > > > With Winter chill;
> > > > > > > > > Forgotten lovers' words
> > > > > > > > > That strive in vain
> > > > > > > > > To span the rolling centuries until
> > > > > > > > > Fresh marigolds
> > > > > > > > > Anoint the April breeze,
> > > > > > > > > And apple trees swing low
> > > > > > > > > Their blossomed boughs
> > > > > > > > > As farmhands scrape the rust
> > > > > > > > > From last year's plows,
> > > > > > > > > And lovers' vows
> > > > > > > > > Break through the frozen sod
> > > > > > > > > And brush away
> > > > > > > > > The ghosts of Winter snows,
> > > > > > > > > To spread their fledgling leaves
> > > > > > > > > Like newborn gods.
> > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > Death watches all,
> > > > > > > > > Complacent and serene
> > > > > > > > > As mothers watch
> > > > > > > > > Their barefoot children play;
> > > > > > > > > As hand-in-hand
> > > > > > > > > We stroll from scene to scene,
> > > > > > > > > Past singing brooks
> > > > > > > > > The color of the day,
> > > > > > > > > Past wooly bison
> > > > > > > > > Primal, broad, and proud,
> > > > > > > > > Or laughing oaks
> > > > > > > > > That stretch across the sky
> > > > > > > > > As though to pluck
> > > > > > > > > The sunlight from a cloud
> > > > > > > > > While willows croon
> > > > > > > > > A noontime lullaby.
> > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > I walk with Death,
> > > > > > > > > My quiet, gentle love
> > > > > > > > > And marvel that
> > > > > > > > > I'd ever feared her glance
> > > > > > > > > Or worried that
> > > > > > > > > Her tender touch might prove
> > > > > > > > > An ending to this lilliput romance,
> > > > > > > > > This fairy fable
> > > > > > > > > Fondly fashioned 'life,'
> > > > > > > > > When in her eyes
> > > > > > > > > I gaze beyond the night
> > > > > > > > > And know her as
> > > > > > > > > My mother, lover, wife --
> > > > > > > > > A promise of unspeakable delight.
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > For me, the fourth stanza stands alone, separate with its message: death the lover, friend, companion...
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > Enjoyed all...but that fourth was most tidy.
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > Jim
> > > > > > > Thanks Jim.
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > This poem is important to me in that it plays a couple of key transitional roles in the collection I'm writing. The poet's relationship with Death is explored through a series of poems interspersed throughout the book. Initially Death is portrayed as a monster of which the poet is both obsessed by and afraid of. Death is also a male character in the previous poems, and is always presented as acting upon the speaker ("Death catches me"). In this poem, the speaker has taken the dominate role in the relationship ("I walk with Death"), who has been transformed into a beautiful woman -- not submissive, but an equal counterpart. This poem also signals an end to the mostly downbeat poems of this section -- and a start to the more positive, poet-as-rebel-hero, poems that will bring the collection to its close. At least that's the game plan -- my Muse is fickle and subversive, and often leads me off in different directions than I'd planned.
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > I consider this poem to be one of my best videos as well.
> > > > > >
> > > > > > https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uWtyT4EFGJ0&t=12s
> > > > > Excellent, and the black and white format is very effective. We spied Hedy Lamarr in the photos! (not to be confused with Harvey Korman)
> > > > I'm hoping that when Death comes for me, She looks like Hedy Lamarr..
> > > She was smart and beautiful. Here she is greeting Michael Pendragon at his end:
> > > https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_kUcfAGXk9Y
> > That's one Death I would stop for.
> There was a "look" at that time in dark-haired female beauty: Ava Gardner, Gene Tierney, Hedy Lamarr, Vivien Leigh. They all had similar features. The blondes made a comeback, though. There was also the redhead phase.
>

I never thought about that... offhand I guess that platinum blonde was big in the early 30s, brunettes ruled the second half of that decade, blondes took over for the first half of the forties, redheads ruled the second half, then blondes came back in the 50s and stayed on top for the entire decade.

On Monday, March 20, 2023 at 2:15:59 PM UTC, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> On Monday, March 20, 2023 at 10:02:31 AM UTC-4, NancyGene wrote:
> > On Monday, March 20, 2023 at 3:56:49 AM UTC, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > On Sunday, March 19, 2023 at 9:24:49 AM UTC-4, NancyGene wrote:
> > > > On Sunday, March 19, 2023 at 12:57:27 AM UTC, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > > > On Friday, March 17, 2023 at 3:35:36 PM UTC-4, NancyGene wrote:
> > > > > > On Friday, March 17, 2023 at 7:24:15 PM UTC, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > > > > > On Friday, November 6, 2015 at 8:25:38 AM UTC-5, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > > > > > > On Thursday, November 5, 2015 at 10:00:55 PM UTC-5, Blackpooljimmy wrote:
> > > > > > > > > On Thursday, November 5, 2015 at 9:40:48 PM UTC-5, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > > > > > > > > I WALK WITH DEATH
> > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > I walk with Death
> > > > > > > > > > Down quiet cobbled streets
> > > > > > > > > > Or country lanes that swirl
> > > > > > > > > > Through Autumn hills
> > > > > > > > > > Where ev'ry tree
> > > > > > > > > > In gypsied splendor greets
> > > > > > > > > > My dark-eyed love
> > > > > > > > > > Whose slightest whisper fills
> > > > > > > > > > The brittle air with wisps
> > > > > > > > > > Of ancient song.
> > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > I take her hand
> > > > > > > > > > And lead her through the day
> > > > > > > > > > As flowers fade
> > > > > > > > > > And shadows race along,
> > > > > > > > > > Attend her footsteps
> > > > > > > > > > As we make our way
> > > > > > > > > > Through tumbling leaves
> > > > > > > > > > Of crimson, brown and gold.
> > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > We watch the farmers
> > > > > > > > > > Harvesting their grain,
> > > > > > > > > > Their sickles glist'ning
> > > > > > > > > > In November cold,
> > > > > > > > > > Jaws tense against the air
> > > > > > > > > > And muscles strain
> > > > > > > > > > Till cornstalks strew the field
> > > > > > > > > > Like last night's tears.
> > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > I smile at Death
> > > > > > > > > > And softly trace her cheek
> > > > > > > > > > With fingers hardened
> > > > > > > > > > By the passing years;
> > > > > > > > > > Gaze deep in dancing eyes
> > > > > > > > > > That long to speak
> > > > > > > > > > Of dreams like fallen leaves
> > > > > > > > > > Beneath the rain
> > > > > > > > > > That stings the barren land
> > > > > > > > > > With Winter chill;
> > > > > > > > > > Forgotten lovers' words
> > > > > > > > > > That strive in vain
> > > > > > > > > > To span the rolling centuries until
> > > > > > > > > > Fresh marigolds
> > > > > > > > > > Anoint the April breeze,
> > > > > > > > > > And apple trees swing low
> > > > > > > > > > Their blossomed boughs
> > > > > > > > > > As farmhands scrape the rust
> > > > > > > > > > From last year's plows,
> > > > > > > > > > And lovers' vows
> > > > > > > > > > Break through the frozen sod
> > > > > > > > > > And brush away
> > > > > > > > > > The ghosts of Winter snows,
> > > > > > > > > > To spread their fledgling leaves
> > > > > > > > > > Like newborn gods.
> > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > Death watches all,
> > > > > > > > > > Complacent and serene
> > > > > > > > > > As mothers watch
> > > > > > > > > > Their barefoot children play;
> > > > > > > > > > As hand-in-hand
> > > > > > > > > > We stroll from scene to scene,
> > > > > > > > > > Past singing brooks
> > > > > > > > > > The color of the day,
> > > > > > > > > > Past wooly bison
> > > > > > > > > > Primal, broad, and proud,
> > > > > > > > > > Or laughing oaks
> > > > > > > > > > That stretch across the sky
> > > > > > > > > > As though to pluck
> > > > > > > > > > The sunlight from a cloud
> > > > > > > > > > While willows croon
> > > > > > > > > > A noontime lullaby.
> > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > I walk with Death,
> > > > > > > > > > My quiet, gentle love
> > > > > > > > > > And marvel that
> > > > > > > > > > I'd ever feared her glance
> > > > > > > > > > Or worried that
> > > > > > > > > > Her tender touch might prove
> > > > > > > > > > An ending to this lilliput romance,
> > > > > > > > > > This fairy fable
> > > > > > > > > > Fondly fashioned 'life,'
> > > > > > > > > > When in her eyes
> > > > > > > > > > I gaze beyond the night
> > > > > > > > > > And know her as
> > > > > > > > > > My mother, lover, wife --
> > > > > > > > > > A promise of unspeakable delight.
> > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > For me, the fourth stanza stands alone, separate with its message: death the lover, friend, companion...
> > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > Enjoyed all...but that fourth was most tidy.
> > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > Jim
> > > > > > > > Thanks Jim.
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > This poem is important to me in that it plays a couple of key transitional roles in the collection I'm writing. The poet's relationship with Death is explored through a series of poems interspersed throughout the book. Initially Death is portrayed as a monster of which the poet is both obsessed by and afraid of. Death is also a male character in the previous poems, and is always presented as acting upon the speaker ("Death catches me"). In this poem, the speaker has taken the dominate role in the relationship ("I walk with Death"), who has been transformed into a beautiful woman -- not submissive, but an equal counterpart. This poem also signals an end to the mostly downbeat poems of this section -- and a start to the more positive, poet-as-rebel-hero, poems that will bring the collection to its close. At least that's the game plan -- my Muse is fickle and subversive, and often leads me off in different directions than I'd planned.
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > I consider this poem to be one of my best videos as well.
> > > > > > >
> > > > > > > https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uWtyT4EFGJ0&t=12s
> > > > > > Excellent, and the black and white format is very effective. We spied Hedy Lamarr in the photos! (not to be confused with Harvey Korman)
> > > > > I'm hoping that when Death comes for me, She looks like Hedy Lamarr.
> > > > She was smart and beautiful. Here she is greeting Michael Pendragon at his end:
> > > > https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_kUcfAGXk9Y
> > > That's one Death I would stop for.
> > There was a "look" at that time in dark-haired female beauty: Ava Gardner, Gene Tierney, Hedy Lamarr, Vivien Leigh. They all had similar features. The blondes made a comeback, though. There was also the redhead phase.
> >
> I never thought about that... offhand I guess that platinum blonde was big in the early 30s, brunettes ruled the second half of that decade, blondes took over for the first half of the forties, redheads ruled the second half, then blondes came back in the 50s and stayed on top for the entire decade.

On Monday, March 27, 2023 at 2:20:01 PM UTC-4, NancyGene wrote:
> On Monday, March 20, 2023 at 2:15:59 PM UTC, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > On Monday, March 20, 2023 at 10:02:31 AM UTC-4, NancyGene wrote:
> > > On Monday, March 20, 2023 at 3:56:49 AM UTC, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > > On Sunday, March 19, 2023 at 9:24:49 AM UTC-4, NancyGene wrote:
> > > > > On Sunday, March 19, 2023 at 12:57:27 AM UTC, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > > > > On Friday, March 17, 2023 at 3:35:36 PM UTC-4, NancyGene wrote:
> > > > > > > On Friday, March 17, 2023 at 7:24:15 PM UTC, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > > > > > > On Friday, November 6, 2015 at 8:25:38 AM UTC-5, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > > > > > > > On Thursday, November 5, 2015 at 10:00:55 PM UTC-5, Blackpooljimmy wrote:
> > > > > > > > > > On Thursday, November 5, 2015 at 9:40:48 PM UTC-5, Michael Pendragon wrote:
> > > > > > > > > > > I WALK WITH DEATH
> > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > I walk with Death
> > > > > > > > > > > Down quiet cobbled streets
> > > > > > > > > > > Or country lanes that swirl
> > > > > > > > > > > Through Autumn hills
> > > > > > > > > > > Where ev'ry tree
> > > > > > > > > > > In gypsied splendor greets
> > > > > > > > > > > My dark-eyed love
> > > > > > > > > > > Whose slightest whisper fills
> > > > > > > > > > > The brittle air with wisps
> > > > > > > > > > > Of ancient song.
> > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > I take her hand
> > > > > > > > > > > And lead her through the day
> > > > > > > > > > > As flowers fade
> > > > > > > > > > > And shadows race along,
> > > > > > > > > > > Attend her footsteps
> > > > > > > > > > > As we make our way
> > > > > > > > > > > Through tumbling leaves
> > > > > > > > > > > Of crimson, brown and gold.
> > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > We watch the farmers
> > > > > > > > > > > Harvesting their grain,
> > > > > > > > > > > Their sickles glist'ning
> > > > > > > > > > > In November cold,
> > > > > > > > > > > Jaws tense against the air
> > > > > > > > > > > And muscles strain
> > > > > > > > > > > Till cornstalks strew the field
> > > > > > > > > > > Like last night's tears.
> > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > I smile at Death
> > > > > > > > > > > And softly trace her cheek
> > > > > > > > > > > With fingers hardened
> > > > > > > > > > > By the passing years;
> > > > > > > > > > > Gaze deep in dancing eyes
> > > > > > > > > > > That long to speak
> > > > > > > > > > > Of dreams like fallen leaves
> > > > > > > > > > > Beneath the rain
> > > > > > > > > > > That stings the barren land
> > > > > > > > > > > With Winter chill;
> > > > > > > > > > > Forgotten lovers' words
> > > > > > > > > > > That strive in vain
> > > > > > > > > > > To span the rolling centuries until
> > > > > > > > > > > Fresh marigolds
> > > > > > > > > > > Anoint the April breeze,
> > > > > > > > > > > And apple trees swing low
> > > > > > > > > > > Their blossomed boughs
> > > > > > > > > > > As farmhands scrape the rust
> > > > > > > > > > > From last year's plows,
> > > > > > > > > > > And lovers' vows
> > > > > > > > > > > Break through the frozen sod
> > > > > > > > > > > And brush away
> > > > > > > > > > > The ghosts of Winter snows,
> > > > > > > > > > > To spread their fledgling leaves
> > > > > > > > > > > Like newborn gods.
> > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > Death watches all,
> > > > > > > > > > > Complacent and serene
> > > > > > > > > > > As mothers watch
> > > > > > > > > > > Their barefoot children play;
> > > > > > > > > > > As hand-in-hand
> > > > > > > > > > > We stroll from scene to scene,
> > > > > > > > > > > Past singing brooks
> > > > > > > > > > > The color of the day,
> > > > > > > > > > > Past wooly bison
> > > > > > > > > > > Primal, broad, and proud,
> > > > > > > > > > > Or laughing oaks
> > > > > > > > > > > That stretch across the sky
> > > > > > > > > > > As though to pluck
> > > > > > > > > > > The sunlight from a cloud
> > > > > > > > > > > While willows croon
> > > > > > > > > > > A noontime lullaby.
> > > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > > I walk with Death,
> > > > > > > > > > > My quiet, gentle love
> > > > > > > > > > > And marvel that
> > > > > > > > > > > I'd ever feared her glance
> > > > > > > > > > > Or worried that
> > > > > > > > > > > Her tender touch might prove
> > > > > > > > > > > An ending to this lilliput romance,
> > > > > > > > > > > This fairy fable
> > > > > > > > > > > Fondly fashioned 'life,'
> > > > > > > > > > > When in her eyes
> > > > > > > > > > > I gaze beyond the night
> > > > > > > > > > > And know her as
> > > > > > > > > > > My mother, lover, wife --
> > > > > > > > > > > A promise of unspeakable delight.
> > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > For me, the fourth stanza stands alone, separate with its message: death the lover, friend, companion...
> > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > Enjoyed all...but that fourth was most tidy.
> > > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > > Jim
> > > > > > > > > Thanks Jim.
> > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > > This poem is important to me in that it plays a couple of key transitional roles in the collection I'm writing. The poet's relationship with Death is explored through a series of poems interspersed throughout the book. Initially Death is portrayed as a monster of which the poet is both obsessed by and afraid of. Death is also a male character in the previous poems, and is always presented as acting upon the speaker ("Death catches me"). In this poem, the speaker has taken the dominate role in the relationship ("I walk with Death"), who has been transformed into a beautiful woman -- not submissive, but an equal counterpart. This poem also signals an end to the mostly downbeat poems of this section -- and a start to the more positive, poet-as-rebel-hero, poems that will bring the collection to its close. At least that's the game plan -- my Muse is fickle and subversive, and often leads me off in different directions than I'd planned.
> > > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > I consider this poem to be one of my best videos as well.
> > > > > > > >
> > > > > > > > https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uWtyT4EFGJ0&t=12s
> > > > > > > Excellent, and the black and white format is very effective. We spied Hedy Lamarr in the photos! (not to be confused with Harvey Korman)
> > > > > > I'm hoping that when Death comes for me, She looks like Hedy Lamarr.
> > > > > She was smart and beautiful. Here she is greeting Michael Pendragon at his end:
> > > > > https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_kUcfAGXk9Y
> > > > That's one Death I would stop for.
> > > There was a "look" at that time in dark-haired female beauty: Ava Gardner, Gene Tierney, Hedy Lamarr, Vivien Leigh. They all had similar features. The blondes made a comeback, though. There was also the redhead phase.
> > >
> > I never thought about that... offhand I guess that platinum blonde was big in the early 30s, brunettes ruled the second half of that decade, blondes took over for the first half of the forties, redheads ruled the second half, then blondes came back in the 50s and stayed on top for the entire decade.
> Yes, the Jean Harlow look, but that was before commercial hair dyes were introduced. Ms. Harlow was using real bleach on her hair and it started to fall out:
> https://www.theatlantic.com/health/archive/2013/02/the-original-blonde-bombshell-used-actual-bleach-on-her-head/273333/
> There were more blondes once hair dyes were safer, in the late 1940s and early 1950s.