December 2009
7 posts
And Death Shall Have No Dominion, Dylan Thomas
And death shall have no dominion. Dead mean naked they shall be one With the man in the wind and the west moon; When their bones are picked clean and the clean bones gone, They shall have stars at elbow and foot; Though they go mad they shall be sane, Though they sink through the sea they shall rise again; Though lovers be lost love shall not; And death shall have no dominion. And death shall have...
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pseudopoetry:
In between
Sense and insanity
Lies my heart
Tattered
Across the floor
Scattered
Into many pieces
Are the shards
Of a broken soul
Splintered
Refracting the light
That never ages
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3 tags
Sonnet 138, William Shakespeare
When my love swears that she is made of truth
I do believe her though I know she lies,
That she might think me some untutored youth,
Unlearnéd in the world’s false subtleties.
Thus vainly thinking that she thinks me young,
Although she knows my days are past the best,
Simply I credit her false-speaking tongue;
On both sides thus is simple truth suppressed.
But wherefore says she not...
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Breakfast, Jacques Prévert
He put the coffee
In his cup
He put the milk
In the cup of coffee
He put the sugar
In the cup of coffee
He stirred it
With the little spoon
He drank the coffee
And he put the cup down
Without speaking to me
He lit
A cigarette
He blew rings
With the smoke
He put the ash
In the ash-tray
Without speaking to me
Without looking at me
He got up
He put
His hat on
He put his...
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Try to Praise the Mutilated World, Adam Zagajewski
Try to praise the mutilated world.
Remember June’s long days,
and wild strawberries, drops of wine, the dew.
The nettles that methodically overgrow
the abandoned homesteads of exiles.
You must praise the mutilated world.
You watched the stylish yachts and ships;
one of them had a long trip ahead of it,
while salty oblivion awaited others.
You’ve seen the refugees heading...
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The Soul's Storm, Emily Dickinson
It struck me every day
The lightning was as new
As if the cloud that instant slit
And let the fire through.
It burned me in the night,
It blistered in my dream;
It sickened fresh upon my sight
With every morning’s beam.
I thought that storm was brief,-
The maddest, quickest by;
But Nature lost the date of this,
And left it in the sky.
©Michael Board
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