Poetry

Be Near Me

Be near me when my light is low
When the blood creeps and the nerves
Prick and tingle and the heart is sick
And all the wheels of being slow

Be near me when the sensuous frame
Is rack’d with pangs that conquer trust
And time a maniac scattering dust
And life a fury slinging flame

Be near me when I fade away
To point the term of human strife
And on the low dark verge of life
The twilight of eternal day.

In Memoriam A.H.H.” Part 50
by Alfred Lord Tennyson

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Poetry

Leaves of Ass

The spotted hawk swoops by and accuses me complains of my gab and my loitering I too am not a bit tamed I too am untranslatable I sound my barbaric yawp over the roofs of the world I depart as air I shake my white locks at the runaway sun I effuse my flesh in eddies and drift it in lacy jags I bequeath myself to the dirt to grow from the grass I love if you want me again look for me you will hardly know who I am or what I mean but I shall be good health to you nevertheless and filter and fibre your blood failing to fetch me at first keep encouraged missing me one place search another I stop somewhere waiting for you.

WALT WHITMAN

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Poetry

Wondrous Moment

Wondrous moment

I still recall the wondrous moment
When you appeared before my eyes
Just like a fleeting apparition
Just like pure beauty’s distillation.

Whenever someone quotes poetry or an excerpt from a book in an attempt to convey to me what it was like when we first met, I’m not normally 100% impressed, but when the work is Russian and the author is Pushkin, I am touched. It’s a perpetual happiness to drown inside such words, and all the more because the sentiment contained is sweetly heard.

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Poetry

Somewhere I Have Never

somewhere i have never traveled gladly beyond any experience your eyes have their silence in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me or which i cannot touch because they are too near your slightest look easily will unclose me though i have closed myself as fingers you open always petal by petal myself as spring opens touching skillfully mysteriously her first rose or if your wish be to close me i and my life will shut very beautifully suddenly as when the heart of this flower imagines the snow carefully everywhere descending nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals the power of your intense fragility whose texture compels me with the color of its countries rendering death and forever with each breathing i do not know what it is about you that closes and opens only something in me understands the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses nobody not even the rain has such small hands

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