Posts tagged Poetry
Excerpt | When You Are Old

and grey 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,
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 glowing bars,
murmur, a little sadly, how love fled
and paced upon the mountains overhead
and hid his face amid a crowd of stars.

yeats, w.b. (1891) 


why do you always leave?
won't you will always be there with your hands outstretched, waiting for me to come home?

but what if i must leave too?
but i love you.

but what if i must leave, first?
but i will starve.

but what if i find another bird?
the loneliness would kill me.

then why don't you stay?
because i have only ever known the sky, and you are so beautiful that touching you hurts, knowing that one day - you may die and leave me here, with only this blue: with only this endless, endless blue.


moon, s. (2013) the anatomy of being.

Excerpt | On Quiet Love

there was a sunlit absence.
the helmeted pump in the yard
heated its iron,
water honeyed

in the slung bucket
and the sun stood
like a griddle cooling
against the wall

of each long afternoon.
So, her hands scuffled
over the bakeboard,
the reddening stove

sent its plaque of heat
against her where she stood
in a floury apron
by the window.

now she dusts the board
with a goose's wing,
now sits, broad-lapped,
with whitened nails

and measling shins:
here is a space
again, the scone rising
to the tick of two clocks.

and here is love
like a tinsmith's scoop
sunk past its gleam
in the meal-bin.

heaney, s. (1975) mossbawn, sunlight

Excerpt | Mirror

I’ll be your mirror, 
Reflect what you are, in case you don’t know, 
I’ll be the wind, the rain and the sunset,
The light on your door to show that you’re home.

Reed, L. I’ll be your mirror (1966)

Excerpt | Travel

Not I, nor anyone else can travel that road for you.
You must travel it by yourself.
It is not far. It is within reach.
Perhaps you have been on it since you were born, and did not know. 
Perhaps it is everywhere - on water and land.

Whitman, W. (1855) Leaves of Grass

Excerpt | Sadness

i held hands
with my sadness,
sang it songs in the shower,
fed it lunch,
got it drunk
& put it to bed early.

Benaim, S. (2017) Depression & Other Magic Tricks