Poem of the moment

[DWill]

It's evident
the art of losing's not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

Elizabeth Bishop

I ran into this somewhere else recently, can't recall where. I like its optimism and its jaunty approach to a serious and painful topic. I puzzled about the "Write It!" in the last line.
Yeah, I think the Ginsburg is worthy of the master who inhabits the poem.

DWill

[DWill]

[quote="]other lovers want to live with certain eyes,
whereas I wish simply to be your hairdresser.[/quote]

That's sweet! ISpeaking of love poems, I got thinking about gathering rosebuds/carpe diem poems on the Shropshire Lad thread. I think my favorite is Marvel's "To His Coy Mistress".

To his Coy Mistress
by Andrew Marvell

Had we but world enough, and time,
This coyness, lady, were no crime.
We would sit down and think which way
To walk, and pass our long love's day;
Thou by the Indian Ganges' side
Shouldst rubies find; I by the tide
Of Humber would complain. I would
Love you ten years before the Flood;
And you should, if you please, refuse
Till the conversion of the Jews.
My vegetable love should grow
Vaster than empires, and more slow.
An hundred years should go to praise
Thine eyes, and on thy forehead gaze;
Two hundred to adore each breast,
But thirty thousand to the rest;
An age at least to every part,
And the last age should show your heart.
For, lady, you deserve this state,
Nor would I love at lower rate.

But at my back I always hear
Time's winged chariot hurrying near;
And yonder all before us lie
Deserts of vast eternity.
Thy beauty shall no more be found,
Nor, in thy marble vault, shall sound
My echoing song; then worms shall try
That long preserv'd virginity,
And your quaint honour turn to dust,
And into ashes all my lust.
The grave's a fine and private place,
But none I think do there embrace.

Now therefore, while the youthful hue
Sits on thy skin like morning dew,
And while thy willing soul transpires
At every pore with instant fires,
Now let us sport us while we may;
And now, like am'rous birds of prey,
Rather at once our time devour,
Than languish in his slow-chapp'd power.
Let us roll all our strength, and all
Our sweetness, up into one ball;
And tear our pleasures with rough strife
Thorough the iron gates of life.
Thus, though we cannot make our sun
Stand still, yet we will make him run.

Pretty hard to withstand lines like that? Does anyone else have a favorite one in this same vein?

DWill

[Saffron]

DWill wrote:

I puzzled about the "Write It!" in the last line.

Here is the line of poetry in question:
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

As I read this poem, I suspected that Bishop is trying to capture the feeling of being in such pain that you can not even say it; in this case write it. One must force oneself to confront it (the command). And at the same time it hints that in time even the most painful losses get easier.


Could be, right? Anybody have any other ideas?

[Saffron]

DWill wrote:

...I got thinking about gathering rosebuds/carpe diem poems on the Shropshire Lad thread. I think my favorite is Marvel's "To His Coy Mistress".

Here is my reply to his coy mistress and the Shropshire Lad.

Seduction Poem
Alison Croggon

I want the slew of muscle, a less
cerebral meeting place: no word
but your male shout, the shirred
unpublic face and honest skin
crying to me, yes
the mouthless, eyeless tenderness
crying to be let in.

Unbutton all your weight, like a bird
flying the night's starred nakedness:
put down your grammatical tongue, undress
your correct and social skin:
come white and absurd
all your language one word
crying to be let in.

[Penelope]

I'm just wild about Saffron.......

This poem you have posted - 'crying to be let in'

Reminds me so much of the barriers we put up between ourselves.

I remember seeing a play, sometime ago - about a 'very respectable' man who had been discovered 'in flagrante' with another man in a public lavatory.

He was asked, how he could have performed that act....in such a place.

His answer was - 'because just for that few moments....I don't feel lonely'.

I wonder if that is why sex is so powerful.....because we are trying to feel accepted, let in.....and not so lonely?

[Saffron]

Penelope wrote:

I wonder if that is why sex is so powerful.....because we are trying to feel accepted, let in.....and not so lonely?

In your very own words, Spot on!

[Penelope]

But, when we get old, and sex is not quite such a preoccupation, we should be able to find another way.....to let one another in.

Shouldn't we?

[Saffron]

Penelope,
I am and maybe foolishly, hoping to never get to a point that I am no longer interested in sex. There must be ways other than sex to feel that close and connected.

Saffron

[Penelope]

Well - it makes for very good poetry...and very good designs on tee shirts.

Of course - if people don't want to listen to you....they're sure not going to listen to your tee shirt!

[DWill]

Here is my reply to his coy mistress and the Shropshire Lad.

Heard, loud and clear. I was hoping someone would know where to find a cut-to-the-chase reply to Marvel from the female side.

DWill