We share the same name (not family though), the same sense of humour & somehow Marie in this poem has managed, in stanza III to pretty encapsulate exactly how i look at the world these days, as a madmen, irritated with people’s “positions” & “ideologies” & willing to toss it to the dogs for “light & sound” though i’d switch “quantity” & “quality”.i don’t say this lightly, but i think this is one of the best poems i have ever read.

Kvenna ráð

“All around me the city looked ripe with dying.” John Irving, The World According to Garp.


In summer the houses with yellow

lighted windows and open doors

pour out music. You think you know

her but you don’t. It’s natural at this

time of year to admire grace and agility,

especially when girls vie with new growth


on the fruit trees. Over-ripe is the word

the poet uses about herself too often,

although that’s surely for later, at a time

when there’s something to compare with.

“My decision to marry was partly to prove

a point.” The light and the sound combine,


the light falling on the feet of a dancing

girl. A madman is merely someone who

has deliberately abandoned civilization

in favour of walking perpetually into

light and sound; madness is therefore a

measure of quantity rather than quality,


the hand being insane…

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Posted by:DPM

DPM is an idea-logue (sic) and object-oriented speculative realist, attempting to be response-able in an irresponse-able society.

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