Some days it just doesn't pay to gnaw through a leathery shell.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
skip to main |
skip to sidebar
The View From The Northern Wall
Some years ago my poetry took on a mythic flavor and I became a character in my own poems, a mage, "the man of the Northern Wall". This apellation is not completely fictional. My middle name is Noordwal, a Dutch term for north wall, though in current Dutch it mainly means north bank as in riverbank. I was told that an ancestor, a Portugese Jew escaping the Inquisition, settled in a small Dutch town and took this name from where he settled, near the north wall of the town. I have thought for a long time that -wal meant wall, think my mother told me that. A linguist might say that my usage is no longer common, is an older usage, but then the Inquisition happened in Portugal a few centuries ago, right around the time the Moors lost control of the Iberian Peninsula and the Jews lost the modest protection given them by Islam. Now I write as this mage, my poetry persona.
About Me
- christopher
- Oregon City, Oregon
- Mechanical designer for industry, now retired, once a Bay Area Hippie, went undercover in 1972, I've been writing poetry for years. Contact: 3topper45@gmail.com
Over The Wall
-
-
Autistic Kid2 weeks ago
-
chopping water and hauling wood2 months ago
-
O6 years ago
-
Bye for now7 years ago
-
Your narcissistic flower8 years ago
-
-
All Time Favorites
Blog Archive
-
▼
2013
(293)
-
▼
March
(16)
- The Acid Acts Up - A Magpie Tale
- The Moment
- A Man Of Few Words - 3WW
- The Bird Sanctuary - Reprise
- The Foreigner - A Magpie Tale
- Adam's Sacrifice - Reprise
- Getting My Feet Wet
- The Sidekick - A Magpie Tale
- Doing It To Myself - 3WW
- It's Better Now - A Magpie Tale
- Breathing Sand
- Marching Orders - 3WW
- The State Of Things
- In A Snit
- Under Duress - A Magpie Tale
- Maybe It Was That Fever
-
▼
March
(16)
No comments:
Post a Comment
The chicken crossed the road. That's poultry in motion.