Okay, so I'm going to copy Mr. D and start a blog, mostly about poetry. What I like about this is that not too many people, if anyone, will read it, so I can just go with it.
I guess I should start off with my favorite piece of poetry, by my favorite poet, E.E. Cummings.
somewhere i have never travelled, 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 skilfully, 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 colour 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
Everything about this poem appeals to me. It is beautiful. Perfect. Complete. It expresses everything, using such beautiful imagery. The fact that I can relate to it so well is another huge part of its appeal. But it is more than that. This poem is brilliant. Whole. The last four lines are written in ink on my wall.
A great guy, Steve, who I have known for five years, passed away on Sunday, April 20. He took his own life. I have ideas for a poem for him, but I hardly have any free time to develop it. I only know bits and pieces of it.
but it's only ashes--
the sweet-scented smoke
doesn't drift my way.
and you're not in that casket--
your spirit will soar
though your body decays.
I'm not sure if I like the rhyming, or if I don't want any rhyming in it. I know I want to compare the loss of Steve to a balloon breaking free and floating away into the sky... I find that to be a very emotional image. I seriously do cry if I see a balloon flying away.
Well, I'll be back when I have some time to make this into a poem, and not just an idea...
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1 comment:
Nik, I'm thrilled that you're doing this. I think that you'll find it a very cathartic experience, even if it's just for you.
And I'm sure that Steve would be flattered whether there's rhyming or not!
PS: I've linked your site from my blog!
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