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THE EARTH TAUGHT HER CHILDREN TO BEFOUL HER | Scarriet
https://scarriet.wordpress.com/2015/08/09/the-earth-taught-her-children-to-befoul-her
THE EARTH TAUGHT HER CHILDREN TO BEFOUL HER. August 9, 2015 at 1:57 pm ( Scarriet Editors. The earth taught her children to befoul her. You are my Central Park. You are the landscape for loving a shadow’s deepening. You are the landscape for which I apply. You are the landscape not of talk or thought. But the glittering that goes on in the sparrow’s eye. In the middle of the gleaming, teeming city I return to nature. In your body I slowly know nature as I never did. And Wordsworth his cunning Prelude stop.
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FOR LIZ | Scarriet
https://scarriet.wordpress.com/2015/08/12/for-liz
August 12, 2015 at 2:25 pm ( Scarriet Editors. I can drive a car. I can be kind. I can play the piano. I can write poetry. I can feel excitement. I can cook and tend a garden. I can avoid sleep. I can be enthusiastic. I can converse with strangers. I can be calm. I can stand up for myself. I can let others have their way. I can think of several things at once. Don’t tell me I don’t know what love is. You know what I know—don’t you, Liz? Leave a Reply Cancel reply. Enter your comment here. Noochinator on ...
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TO YOU, THE ONLY ONE WHO KNOWS THIS | Scarriet
https://scarriet.wordpress.com/2015/08/08/to-you-the-only-one-who-knows-this
TO YOU, THE ONLY ONE WHO KNOWS THIS. August 8, 2015 at 1:38 pm ( Scarriet Editors. To you, the only one who knows this,. I dedicate this,. Simply. Without a sound. Without a kiss. I learned from you what is best for me. You improved me. That was part of our destiny. There was… love, but it is not polite to talk of that. And I won’t. Losing weight from worry isn’t good. Everyone should get fat. My adoration for you is unceasing. Strange, strange, strange! How we died, and now are dead to each other—.
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I WANTED TO PAINT A POEM FROM WHAT SEEMED TO ME ETERNAL IN MY MIND | Scarriet
https://scarriet.wordpress.com/2015/08/01/i-wanted-to-paint-a-poem-from-what-seemed-to-me-eternal-in-my-mind
I WANTED TO PAINT A POEM FROM WHAT SEEMED TO ME ETERNAL IN MY MIND. August 1, 2015 at 2:07 pm ( Scarriet Editors. A man cannot say, ‘I will compose poetry.’ The greatest poet cannot say it, for the mind in creation is like a fading coal… —Shelley, Defense of Poetry. Oh poetry revels in picturesqueness;. Bushes, flowers and vines. Coiling around broken friezes,. Odors bursting from slaved-over lines. As you walk in the garden—. Holding your palms out to the rain. Sailing, dropping mistily down,. Thomasbra...
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I LOVED HATE | Scarriet
https://scarriet.wordpress.com/2015/08/06/i-loved-hate
August 6, 2015 at 8:57 pm ( Scarriet Editors. She was like my mother, self-loathing and sad,. Comparing herself to others, and always feeling bad,. Taking out her aggression on yard waste, alone. I saw my lover as my mother, unconsciously. Groan. She was sweet and friendly at first—. I fell in love; it was too late. For the soul that loves this is the worst:. To fall in love with hate. Everyone’s heart is a house. She took me to her house. But left me at the gate. She was sweet and friendly at first.
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I NEED TO WRITE THIS POEM FAST | Scarriet
https://scarriet.wordpress.com/2015/08/10/i-need-to-write-this-poem-fast
I NEED TO WRITE THIS POEM FAST. August 10, 2015 at 3:31 pm ( Scarriet Editors. I need to write this poem fast. This inspiration will not last. Yes, look how love between two people disappears. In a cloud of tears. My inspiration’s source will always exist, though. Remember when you were young and bored in school and everything seemed slow? The attempt to write fast. Does not help inspiration last—. And even the inspiration’s source. Immense as it is, will not stay its course. I had to write this poem fast.
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AT LOVE’S | Scarriet
https://scarriet.wordpress.com/2015/08/11/at-loves
August 11, 2015 at 1:14 pm ( Scarriet Editors. When do you love the doctor? When I am sick. And when do you hate the doctor? When I am well. When do you love the lover? When I am sick. And when do you hate the lover? Stay And I’ll tell. Leave a Reply Cancel reply. Enter your comment here. Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:. Email (Address never made public). You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. ( Log Out. You are commenting using your Twitter account. ( Log Out. THE ON...
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WHEN SHE SAID NEVER | Scarriet
https://scarriet.wordpress.com/2015/08/13/when-she-said-never
WHEN SHE SAID NEVER. August 13, 2015 at 1:15 pm ( Scarriet Editors. Love is that tragedy. Which is always affecting me. A composer died of a broken heart,. But listen how beautifully his music plays. And still it lives, and will live forever. The composer said yes. When she said never. Love is that poetry. Which is always affecting me. A poet died of a broken heart,. Yet listen how his poetry says. A thing of beauty is a joy forever. The poet said yes. When she said never. Love is the whole of me. Noochi...
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WAS THERE EVER A YOU? | Scarriet
https://scarriet.wordpress.com/2015/08/03/was-there-ever-a-you
WAS THERE EVER A YOU? August 3, 2015 at 8:23 pm ( Scarriet Editors. I made that poetry proudly,. A little bit of emotion, an idea or two. In love, I write for the one I love. But was there ever a you? I, in love, loved loudly,. Too much emotion, which emotion knew. In poetry, I write to one I love. But was there ever a you? How can I tell you, my only love! Of these feelings that writing knew? It is you I write to, my darling. But was there ever a you? Why do I ponder this? To question this is absurd.
