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Usually, I wouldn't give a s**t about poems , but found a few that I like recently, thought I'd record 'em....
-Li Fu-jen
Untitled Poem
Quote: The sound of her silk skirt has stopped.
On the marble pavement dust grows.
Her empty room is cold ans still.
Fallen leaves are piled against the doors.
Longing for that lovely lady
How can I bring my aching heart to rest?
Marrying the Hangman
By Margaret Atwood
A narrative poem
Excerpts;
Quote: To live in prison is to live without mirrors. To live
without mirrors is to live without the self. She is
living selflessly, she finds a hole in the stone wall and
on the other side of the wall, a voice. The voice
comes through darkness and has no face. This voice
becomes her mirror.
She uses her voice like a hand, her voice reaches through the wall, stroking and touching. What could she possibly have said that would have convinced him? He was not condemned to death, freedom awaited him. What was the temptation, the one that worked?
Perhaps he wanted to live with a woman whose life he had saved, who had seen down into the earth but had nevertheless followed him back up to life. It was his only chance to be a hero, to one person at least…
He said: the end of walls, the end of ropes, the opening of doors, a field, the wind, a house, the sun, a table, an apple.
She said: n****e, arms, lips, wine, belly, hair, bread, thighs, eyes, eyes.
They both kept their promises.
He wants only the simple things....These things can best be had by marrying a woman who has been condemned to death by other men for wishing to be beautiful. There is a wide choice.
Everyone said he was a fool.
Everyone said she was a clever woman.
They used the word ensnare.
What did they say the first time they were alone together in the same room? What did he say when she had removed her veil and he could see that she was not a voice but a body and therefore finite? What did she say when she discovered that she had left one locked room for another? They talked of love, naturally, though that did not keep them busy forever.
History cannot be erased, although we can soothe ourselves by speculating about it.
He said: foot, boot, order, city, fist, roads, time, knife.
She said: water, night, willow, rope hair, earth belly, cave, meat, shroud, open, blood.
They both kept their promises.
-George Santayan
Untitled Poem
Quote: As in the midst of battle there is room
For thoughts of love, and in foul sin for mirth;
As gossips whisper of a trinket's worth
Spied by the death-bed's flickering candle-gloom;
As in the crevices of Caesar's tomb
The sweet herbs flourish on a little earth:
So in this great disaster of our birth
We can be happy, and forget our doom.
For morning, with a ray of tenderest joy
Gliding the iron heaven, hides the truth,
And evening gently woos us to employ
Our greif in idle catches. Souch is youth;
Till from that summer's trance we wake, to find
Despair before us, vanity behind.
 CM_Valyn · Wed Sep 10, 2008 @ 05:46pm · 0 Comments |
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