The Past “Ain’t that the curse of the second hand” (Mark Heard) My mirror today was time, with her unexplained folding each time I recollect the reason Grandma lives in Oklahoma, I eat cheerios without milk, and where the purple-knit scarf came from “Mad World” looped as I remembered, credence bestowed, not to the absurdity of answers, but Of Time’s erasal Of them all.
16 June 2008
15 June 2008
The Poet with His Face in His Hands
You want to cry aloud for your
mistakes. But to tell the truth the world
doesn't need anymore of that sound.
mistakes. But to tell the truth the world
doesn't need anymore of that sound.
So if you're going to do it and can't
stop yourself, if your pretty mouth can't
hold it in, at least go by yourself across
stop yourself, if your pretty mouth can't
hold it in, at least go by yourself across
the forty fields and the forty dark inclines
of rocks and water to the place where
the falls are flinging out their white sheets
of rocks and water to the place where
the falls are flinging out their white sheets
like crazy, and there is a cave behind all that
jubilation and water fun and you can
stand there, under it, and roar all you
jubilation and water fun and you can
stand there, under it, and roar all you
want and nothing will be disturbed; you can
drip with despair all afternoon and still,
on a green branch, its wings just lightly touched
drip with despair all afternoon and still,
on a green branch, its wings just lightly touched
by the passing foil of the water, the thrush,
puffing out its spotted breast, will sing
of the perfect, stone-hard beauty of everything.
puffing out its spotted breast, will sing
of the perfect, stone-hard beauty of everything.
~ Mary Oliver ~
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