Since there’s no help, come let us kiss and part Nay, I have done, you get no more of me; And I am glad, yea, glad with all my heart, That this so cleanly I myself can free. Shake hands for ever, cancel all our vows, And when we meet at any time again, Be…
Category: Poetry
learning to listen
listening deeply is the key to understanding. for when we have taken the time for things, and get to know them, only then, will we have a better understanding of them.
love storm, by D.H. Lawrence
Many roses in the wind Are tapping at the window-sash. A hawk is in the sky; his wings Slowly begin to plash. The roses with the west wind rapping Are torn away, and a splash Of red goes down the billowing air. Still hangs the hawk, with the whole sky moving Past him–only a wing-beat…
And death shall have no dominion, by Dylan Thomas
And death shall have no dominion. Dead man 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…
A pinch of salt, by Robert Graves
When a dream is born in you With a sudden clamorous pain, When you know the dream is true And lovely, with no flaw nor stain, O then, be careful, or with sudden clutch You’ll hurt the delicate thing you prize so much. Dreams are like a bird that mocks, Flirting the feathers of his…
The Foreboding, by Robert Graves
Looking by chance in at the open window I saw my own self seated in his chair With gaze abstracted, furrowed forehead Unkempt hair. I thought that I had suddenly come to die, That to a cold corpse this was my farewell, Until the pen moved slowly upon paper And tears fell. He had written…
mimicked in salt
my body feels so heavy my arms, limbs, eyelids my mouth turned down at the corners my heart in my stomach and my head clouded so thick. i imagined the door closing, light disappearing. blackness. and that wall being rebuilt, brick by brick – yet the chasm was wider, deeper and darker. the cries of…
summer storms
My dad once told me, about 20 years ago, that the weather comes in cycles, every 10 years or so. Okay, so climate change has kind of made that regularity change somewhat, or so I would have thought! However, I got a notification this morning about a memory I had on Facebook 9 years ago…
Invictus, by William Ernest Henley
Out of the night that covers me, Black as the Pit from pole to pole, I thank whatever gods may be For my unconquerable soul. In the fell clutch of circumstance I have not winced nor cried aloud. Under the bludgeonings of chance My head is bloody, but unbowed. Beyond this place of wrath and…
hand and heart, no brain
I feel like someone just punched their hand through my chest and ripped out my heart.
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