Thursday, May 31, 2012

Frost, "Devotion"


The heart can think of no devotion
Greater than being shore to ocean -
Holding the curve of one position,
Counting an endless repetition. 

(I want to believe.)

Sunday, May 27, 2012


I'm crouched, shivering, in front of the heating vent of my new SLC room, wearing only a cami and underwear. Most people would take this opportunity to throw on sweatpants and a sweatshirt. Not me. I'm too busy being inspired and wondering who chose the color for this bedroom. 

Touche, Neil. I'm picking up what you're putting down. 

"There are days I wake to peace I can't explain" <--yes. 

Remind me, quick. I'm drifting.  

And now some poetry. 

Yesterday two of my favorite people on this planet got married. Kellie had this poem printed on her cake so I was able to slip it into my toast. The world is full of so much win...and so much love. 

(This is one of my favorite love poems of all time and I'm kinda jealous Kellie got to claim it before me. Oh well.)

[i carry your heart with me(i carry it in]

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
                                                      i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it’s you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

Tuesday, May 1, 2012

Jack Gilbert, "Failing and Flying"

I really, really like this poem. And Press Play-Poetry. And NPR.

Many months ago, I marked May 1 on my calendar as a day of change. In ways that I did not expect at all, it is very much such a day. The tone in this poem reflects how I feel, today, about this tornado (in the very best of ways).

Failing and Flying

by Jack Gilbert

Everyone forgets that Icarus also flew.
It's the same when love comes to an end,
or the marriage fails and people say
they knew it was a mistake, that everybody
said it would never work. That she was
old enough to know better. But anything
worth doing is worth doing badly.
Like being there by that summer ocean
on the other side of the island while
love was fading out of her, the stars
burning so extravagantly those nights that
anyone could tell you they would never last.
Every morning she was asleep in my bed
like a visitation, the gentleness in her
like antelope standing in the dawn mist.
Each afternoon I watched her coming back
through the hot stony field after swimming,
the sea light behind her and the huge sky
on the other side of that. Listened to her
while we ate lunch. How can they say
the marriage failed? Like the people who
came back from Provence (when it was Provence)
and said it was pretty but the food was greasy.
I believe Icarus was not failing as he fell,
but just coming to the end of his triumph.