Poetry Spam ^_^
Jul. 5th, 2006 08:21 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
rosie_rues*loves the flist*
You are all wonderful. No particular reason today. You just are ^_^
I haven't shared any poetry for a while, and I'm in that sort of mood.
I love this poem, and I've been waiting patiently until I could post it. Londoners may know her poetry from the underpass at Waterloo station. This isn't that poem, which I personally feel is best read in situ, but check out her website to see some of her other public poems.
Blakeney
A single wooden skiff
lies beached among the reeds
out beyond the estuary’s tidal reach,
layer upon weathered layer
of paint, a palimpsest in blue
peeling like eczama’d skin,
its hull a bleached
cage of ribs
rotting in brackish water.
We’ve come East,
to where the horizon’s
a mere line of pencilled light
and brindled skies squat
above the fens to mend
what you refuse to,
cannot name, as if in the
merging of sky, land, reeds,
these beginnings and ends,
something might be permeable
beneath this waning light.
Four in the afternoon
and the November dusk closes
in the long horizons, shadows
the corrugated spit of sunlit sand
as we taste the smoke
of early evening on our lips.
You walk ahead and already
I know you are slipping from me
as this small trapped craft must have
once slipped from a surf-wet quay.
Oh love, what I want say
is look; the tide is turning,
turning and refilling these salt pans
as the chambers of an empty heart
endlessly pour and fill
pour and spill
Isaac Rosenberg is slowly coming back into fashion, but he's still mostly remembered for his war poetry, which is a great shame, in my opinion. He also wrote a great many incredibly intense pieces before the first world war. I like this one.
In Kensington Gardens
I saw the face of God today,
I heard the music of His smile;
And yet I was not far away,
And yet in paradise the while.
I lay upon the sparkling grass,
And God's own mouth was kissing me,
And there was nothing that did pass
But blazèd with divinity.
Divine - divine - upon mine eyes,
Upon mine hair, divine - divine,
The fervour of the golden skies,
The ardent gaze of God on mine.
You are all wonderful. No particular reason today. You just are ^_^
I haven't shared any poetry for a while, and I'm in that sort of mood.
I love this poem, and I've been waiting patiently until I could post it. Londoners may know her poetry from the underpass at Waterloo station. This isn't that poem, which I personally feel is best read in situ, but check out her website to see some of her other public poems.
Blakeney
A single wooden skiff
lies beached among the reeds
out beyond the estuary’s tidal reach,
layer upon weathered layer
of paint, a palimpsest in blue
peeling like eczama’d skin,
its hull a bleached
cage of ribs
rotting in brackish water.
We’ve come East,
to where the horizon’s
a mere line of pencilled light
and brindled skies squat
above the fens to mend
what you refuse to,
cannot name, as if in the
merging of sky, land, reeds,
these beginnings and ends,
something might be permeable
beneath this waning light.
Four in the afternoon
and the November dusk closes
in the long horizons, shadows
the corrugated spit of sunlit sand
as we taste the smoke
of early evening on our lips.
You walk ahead and already
I know you are slipping from me
as this small trapped craft must have
once slipped from a surf-wet quay.
Oh love, what I want say
is look; the tide is turning,
turning and refilling these salt pans
as the chambers of an empty heart
endlessly pour and fill
pour and spill
Isaac Rosenberg is slowly coming back into fashion, but he's still mostly remembered for his war poetry, which is a great shame, in my opinion. He also wrote a great many incredibly intense pieces before the first world war. I like this one.
In Kensington Gardens
I saw the face of God today,
I heard the music of His smile;
And yet I was not far away,
And yet in paradise the while.
I lay upon the sparkling grass,
And God's own mouth was kissing me,
And there was nothing that did pass
But blazèd with divinity.
Divine - divine - upon mine eyes,
Upon mine hair, divine - divine,
The fervour of the golden skies,
The ardent gaze of God on mine.
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no subject
Date: 2006-07-05 08:18 pm (UTC)Happy Birthday Hun! Thanks so much for writing such brilliant stories and I hope you're having a smashing day!
no subject
Date: 2006-07-05 11:15 pm (UTC)(And, oh, yes, very Regulus ^_^)
no subject
Date: 2006-07-05 11:21 pm (UTC)(*squee* I'm so glad you think so!)
no subject
Date: 2006-07-05 10:55 pm (UTC)And zomg, I only just realised:
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!
Hope you had a good day!
&hearts
no subject
Date: 2006-07-05 11:17 pm (UTC)Thank you :) I've had a lovely day.
no subject
Date: 2006-07-06 02:48 am (UTC)And those poems - both so gorgeous, the first especially evocative, the second especially emotional. Should be used in a fic, I think, especially of the Remus/Sirius kind...
*smoochy hugs*
no subject
Date: 2006-07-06 08:22 am (UTC)The first is really haunting - I've loved her Eurydice (the Waterloo pome) since I used to commute through Waterloo, and I finally went and looked up some of her others. Lovely stuff.
Rosenberg is one of my favourite poets - most of his work is visually and emotionally intense like this. I've quoted his poetry in fic before - it fits very well with the whole mood of the first war.
no subject
Date: 2006-07-06 03:20 am (UTC)Yes, I'm terrible with birthdays and only remember them at the last moment, but I hope you had a wonderful day
And what lovely poems -- the imagery in the first one is beautiful. I think I'm off to read some more of the author's poetry now.
no subject
Date: 2006-07-06 08:29 am (UTC)Her poetry is really beautiful and I really like the way she fits her public poetry to the spaces she uses.
no subject
Date: 2006-07-06 11:00 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-07-07 09:28 am (UTC)