There isn’t much to say about some poems. They speak for themselves and echo into the world.
Photo From BrainPickings Dylan Thomas—One of the best. Here’s a recording of Dylan reading his own poem. Posted on YouTube.
The Feminine
Fabulous moon, wherein we draw in the feminine, this—this gives us life. Oh to be born during the night. To yowl first screams before the dawn. To sing of the hoof traces left panting and bloody in the snow.
Derek Walcott
LOVE AFTER LOVE
The time will come
when, with elation,
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror,
and each will smile at the other’s welcome,
and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you
all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,
the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.
Derek Walcott—January 23, 1930—March 17, 2017
Here we go again…
My MacBook has been returned to me all safe and sound. Now I have only to get caught up. Hummm. That could take awhile. Especially since I’ve added piano work and exercise to my dailies. This is what drives people to naps.
YIKES!
So I broke my computer and it is being fixed. This means no posts until it is returned to me. I hope by the end of the week. Meanwhile…..
Writers Ink—Writing and Stuff 