My deepest sympathies.

[Charles]

Hallo,

I know I have not posted here in a while, but I just wanted to express how saddened I am by the passing of Barrie.

I remember he commented on the first poem I ever wrote. What I will always take away from that was how good a teacher he was, I do not know how he earned his living, but I will always remember him as a great teacher. I was so ashamed of my poetry when I first posted here, it was only today that I actually had the courage to show that poem to a friend of mine. His words of "worth the wait" will always inspire me with the confidence to write. Even in that small exchange I had with him he seemed to me to have that quality that a great teacher always has, that of being firm with telling a student where he had gone wrong while being understanding of the fact that that it is hard for the youngsters when starting out. I almost wish I had told him that at the time instead of getting into a debate about religion, but I suspect that he enjoyed that debate and that moreover he had the quality of a true teacher, that of being satisfied in planting seeds in a young, fertile mind, while not ever thinking of reaping any crop from them.

My thoughts and prayers are with him and his family.

[Charles]

A thought

I would like to dedicate the poem I was talking about to Barrie... for what it's worth. I've thought about revising it reacently, but I think I will always leave it in the form I showed him, complete with the rather oblique quote at the top. It seems more fitting this way.

Here is the poem:

Mary Magdalene Receives the Sacrament.

“What, wretched woman? Feast?”
Euripides, “The Bacchae”

A crimson cushion props up my knees
Worn trainers leaving their impression –
The Homily talks of men acting straight
To impose on my Sunday afternoon.
(And all that homework left undone!
This, perhaps, no more fundamental.)

I wonder if it was the same for them,
All those squalid generations back:
Matthias yawns with a backward glance,
As Peter jangles his authoritarian passes,
And Mary Magdalene rolls her eyes,
At a Pauline gesture.

But horrifyingly, rather than a grin,
Comes scandal: my body, broken for you.
She, whose sin snapped that corpse,
Now suckles on its milk of life.
Once grief-shed tears now shine to joy.
A contrite heart melts,

St. Mary Magdalene, patron of sinners:
Pray for us.


And a link to the original thread:
viewtopic.php?f=20&t=5089&hilit=Mary+Magdalene

[David]

A nice thought, Charles. You're right, this sort of thing was meat and drink to Barrie.

Cheers

David