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| Micro-Kat Local Artist |
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| My old friend Nona Left this world a couple years ago...she was passionate about her politics and her art,intellectually brilliant, made the most of what she had and gave a portion to all those she knew. I remember the day in 1983 when she came home and told me how a UW Madison professor told her the poetry she had written wasn’t considered art...well...she gave me the verses and after 18 years died having never published...I would like to dedicate this column to her and finally publish the depth of art that was her poetry. |
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| Untitled Lovers seek a soul greater than their own, they seek some greater beauty, some better worth to know. For you and I the new year's thin film of ice has broken, my love flows through scattered fragments floating; my fingers dangling to warming waters flowing as I caress your skin, soft like still water, and know that our love is as new as new unencrusted rippling waves, our spring saving winter' long sleeping decay as I plunge my soul into your shoreless love and lose myself in a wonderful sea of change, made into something rich and strange, transformed by your beauty and love. Nona Vinmans |
| The Nymph's Reply And yet, I would have this a joyful union, a blissful reunion a celebration of communion, rejoicing in each other who is one and being one- one adding one still equaling one: letting this be my wish- what I try with every kiss to consummate with our love, Nona Sehgal |
| THE LOVERS When I am old and peel back this thin skin, This pulpy bark of a wind tossed fallen limb, Shall I see us etched in time, my rings and thine, Two grafted souls growing you and I entwined; Or shall we fade with smooth rubbed kisses When each the other a rubbing stone sees, And every touch brings such blisses And still more desirous wishes Till nothing but a mingling dust shall we be. Nona Seghal |
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| The Changing Seasons of Love She bears her love for me like a fruit ripened in a summer of long waiting ; soft and yielding in her upturned hand, I see the whole from seed to seed : our autumn waning to a long winter's decay till some future spring finds us once again lying on the grass, our eyes fixed on each other, our souls twining like our fingers in the moist grass, where once again we will thrive in our changing seasons of love. Nona Seghal |
| SWEET COMFORTABLE YOU Our comfort is no sluggish slave to sameness, no erosion of the soul, no leveling to one plain existance, but with a vegetable passion grows - - grows from the roots of mountains, and spiraling through time with questing, untiring looks to thyself, myself and back and back again, we grow together, always changing, but ever with sweet comfortable you. |