That's what I love about poetry. The more abstract, the better. The stuff where you're not sure what the poet's talking about. You may have an idea, but you can't be sure. Not a hundred percent. Each word, specifically chosen, could have a million different meanings.
I went out to the hazel woodbecause a fire was in my headcut and peeled a hazel wandand hooked a berry to a threadand when white moths were on the wingand moth-like stars were flickering outI dropped the berry in a stream,and caught a little silver trout....(Song of Wandering Aengus)
...as we are endowed. ...with rhetorics. ...none will deny. ...of innocence. ...towards scribbling. ...of love lines. ...and of lust. ...to what seems like male. ...to what seems like female. ...in those days. ...I mean nothing. ...but in high school.....even me. ...I can't deny.
Of all the days dropped in time's pocketThis day will seek acknowledgement with a child's shy asking, because the love between us used no word uncommoner than coffee, and was never traced by graphs of huge emotion. Yet some fancy will recall this day hallowed past recognition.
as long as there arehuman beings aboutthere is never going to beany peacefor any individualupon this earth (oranywhere elsethey mightescape to).all you can dois maybe grabten lucky minuteshereor maybe an hourthere.somethingis working toward youright now, andI mean youand nobody butyou.
Isn't it strange how princes and kings,and clowns that caper in sawdust rings,and common people, like you and me,are builders for eternity?Each is given a list of rules;a shapeless mass; a bag of tools.And each must fashion, ere life is flown,A stumbling block, or a Stepping-Stone.
ConnubialBecause with alarming accuracy she’d been identifying patterns I was unaware of—this tic, that tendency, like the way I've mastered the language of intimacy in order to conceal how I felt— I knew I was in danger of being terribly understood.
Beneath it allI kept faith with Ithaca, travelled,Travelled and travelled,Suffering much, enjoying a little;Met strange people singingNew myths; made myths myself.But this lion of the seaSalt-maned, scaly, wondrous of tail,Touched with power, insistentOn this brief promontory...Puzzles.
You must take these poems as mirrors; for you know that the mirror has no form of itself, but rather reflects the face of anyone who looks in it. Just so a poem has no one particular meaning of itself , but presents to each reader his state of the moment and the completeness of his case
Ah Sun-flower! weary of time,Who countest the steps of the Sun:Seeking after that sweet golden climeWhere the traveller's journey is done. Where the Youth pined away with desire,And the pale Virgin shrouded in snow: Arise from their graves and aspire, Where my Sun-flower wishes to go.
Perfect...as it was, it had to be, andlittle dreams were spinning madlyas a flock of birds mid-flight, thesingle vision of a single moment, a singlemoment, frozen in time no more. No moredid he need, to understand thatit was better than any he couldtake, and call his own, it was Perfect...
when Whitman wrote, “I sing the body electric”I know what hemeantI know what hewanted:to be completely alive every momentin spite of the inevitable.we can’t cheat death but we can make itwork so hardthat when it does takeusit will have known a victory just asperfect asours
Perfect...as it was, it had to be, andlittle dreams were spinning madlyas a flock of birds in mid-flight, thesingle vision of a single moment, a singlemoment, frozen in time no more. No moredid he need, to understand thatit was better than any he couldtake, and call his own, it was Perfect...
Elle est mortelle mais elle n’a ni cœur ni âme.Elle inflige la souffrance et invoque une justice ignorée.Elle est le glaive et la main qui la guide s’appelle vengeance.Ne la croise pas sur ton chemin car cruauté est son nom et ton sang est son emblème.
Unfurl your muscles. Slip off your skin. Drop your guts in a heap on the floor.”I felt my airway constrict. Damn, this was profound. I continued. “Nuzzle inside the hollow of my bones. Let our breaths mingle as one. Turn liquid for me. Only for me. Bury your essence inside of my soul.
