blagophilia » poetry

Life. It Happens.

larry — Tue, 27 May 2008 02:44:52 +0000

Life tends to happen. I’ve learned this more and more every year I’ve spent on this planet. As I often do I think about something I’ve read, in this case Ash Wednesday by T.S. Eliot. It’s really one passage that really resonates with me.

Because I know that time is always time
And place is always and only place
And what is actual is actual only for one time
And only for one place
I rejoice that things are as they are and
I renounce the blessèd face
And renounce the voice
Because I cannot hope to turn again
Consequently I rejoice, having to construct something
Upon which to rejoice

I met her at random really. A one off twitter that got a reply. And then things moved. The world shifted slightly, not enough for me to notice but it began. And I replied back. And it began little by little. Too small to notice really. Another shift. And then we talked. No stilted communication over hours, but immediate and now. And then the world began to turn more and more. Faster and faster, and if I noticed I did not care.

She’s become a part of me now. In this time, in this place that is my life she is there. I don’t know what will happen again, I just know that what is now is now. And this time, this place is a good one. I hope that I can build it into something more. And that is something on which I can rejoice.

Technorati Tags: her, life, poetry, twitter

More Poetry: Yeats

larry — Fri, 18 Apr 2008 04:17:01 +0000

From his romantic period.

When you are old

WHEN you are old and gray and full of sleep
And nodding by the fire, take down this book,
And slowly read, and dream of the soft look
Your eyes had once, and of their shadows deep;
How many loved your moments of glad grace, 5
And loved your beauty with love false or true;
But one man loved the pilgrim soul in you,
And loved the sorrows of your changing face.
And bending down beside the glowing bars,
Murmur, a little sadly, how love fled 10
And paced upon the mountains overhead,
And hid his face amid a crowd of stars.

Technorati Tags: poetry, romantic, when you are old, yeats

Read this earlier, seems fitting for the time of year

larry — Sun, 13 Apr 2008 19:11:21 +0000

APRIL is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.
Winter kept us warm, covering
Earth in forgetful snow, feeding
A little life with dried tubers.
Summer surprised us, coming over the Starnbergersee
With a shower of rain; we stopped in the colonnade,
And went on in sunlight, into the Hofgarten,
And drank coffee, and talked for an hour.
Bin gar keine Russin, stamm’ aus Litauen, echt deutsch.
And when we were children, staying at the archduke’s,
My cousin’s, he took me out on a sled,
And I was frightened. He said, Marie,
Marie, hold on tight. And down we went.
In the mountains, there you feel free.
I read, much of the night, and go south in the winter.

Gotta love T.S. Eliot…

Technorati Tags: april, poetry, random, spring, t.s. eliot

Heaven in a Wild Flower

larry — Thu, 03 Jan 2008 05:12:39 +0000

I was looking at some pictures of wildflowers earlier due to a conversation with a friend. This came to mind at the time. It’s by Blake.

To see a World in a Grain of SandAnd a Heaven in a Wild Flower,Hold Infinity in the palm of your handAnd Eternity in an hour.

Technorati Tags: flower, poem, poetry, wild, william blake