POETRY

Late frontman of The Doors, and poet, Jim Morrison, believes that poetry can liberate you from the limited ways you see and feel.  I agree with him.  Poetry, at its very best, inserts an image into your mind which becomes un-banishable, un-impeachable.  It gives you new ways to experience the world and express your thoughts.  It can take the mundane and transform it into something meaningful.  As you chew on and digest a poem with your brain, some phrases or words, images, may become stuck, like a popcorn kernel, in your mind’s molars, forever lodged there.

Life in a Love

Robert Browning, 1812 - 1889


Escape me?

Never—

Beloved!

While I am I, and you are you,

   So long as the world contains us both,

   Me the loving and you the loth,

While the one eludes, must the other pursue.

My life is a fault at last, I fear:

   It seems too much like a fate, indeed!

   Though I do my best I shall scarce succeed.

But what if I fail of my purpose here? 

It is but to keep the nerves at strain,

   To dry one’s eyes and laugh at a fall,

And baffled, get up to begin again,—

   So the chase takes up one’s life, that’s all.

While, look but once from your farthest bound,

   At me so deep in the dust and dark,

No sooner the old hope drops to ground

   Than a new one, straight to the selfsame mark,

I shape me—

Ever

Removed! 

Beggar to Beggar Cried

W.B. Yeats (1865–1939)


‘TIME to put off the world and go somewhere  

And find my health again in the sea air,’  

Beggar to beggar cried, being frenzy-struck,  

‘And make my soul before my pate is bare.’  

  

‘And get a comfortable wife and house         

To rid me of the devil in my shoes,’  

Beggar to beggar cried, being frenzy-struck,  

‘And the worse devil that is between my thighs.’  

  

‘And though I’d marry with a comely lass,  

She need not be too comely—let it pass,’  

Beggar to beggar cried, being frenzy-struck,  

‘But there’s a devil in a looking-glass.’  

  

‘Nor should she be too rich, because the rich  

Are driven by wealth as beggars by the itch,’  

Beggar to beggar cried, being frenzy-struck,

‘And cannot have a humorous happy speech.’  

  

‘And there I’ll grow respected at my ease,  

And hear amid the garden’s nightly peace,’  

Beggar to beggar cried, being frenzy-struck,  

‘The wind-blown clamour of the barnacle-geese.’

Mansion - NF

Mansion

NF - 2016


Physically abused, now that's the room that I don't want to be in

That picture ain't blurry at all, I just don't want to see it

And these walls ain't blank, I just think I don't want to see 'em

But why not? I'm in here, so I might as well read 'em

I gotta thank you for this anger that I carry around

Wish I could take a match and burn this whole room to the ground

Matter of fact I think I'ma burn this room right now


So now this memory for some reason just won't come down

You used to put me in the corner, so you could see the fear in my eyes

Then took me downstairs and beat me 'til I screamed and I cried


Congratulations, you'll always have a room in my mind

But I'ma keep the door shut and lock the lyrics inside

Insidious is blind inception

What's reality with all these questions?


See, my problem is I don't fix things, I just try to repaint

Cover em up, like it never happened

Say I wish I could change, are you confused?

Come upstairs and I'll show you what I mean


This room's full of regrets, just keeps getting fuller it seems

The moment I walk in to it is the same moment that I wanna leave

I get sick to my stomach every time I look at these things

But it's hard to look past when this is the room where I sleep

I look around, one of the worst things I wrote on these walls

Was the moment I realized that I was losing my mom

And one of the first things I wrote was I wish I would have called

But I should just stop now, we ain't got enough room in this song


And I regret the fact that I struggled trying to find who I am

And I lie to myself and say I do the best that I can

Shrug it off like it ain't nothing like it’s out of my hands

Then get ticked off whenever I see it affecting my plans

And I regret watching these trust issues eat me alive

And at the rate I'm going they'll probably still be there when I die

Congratulations, you'll always have a room in my mind


The question is, will I ever clean the walls off in time?


So this part of my house, no one's been in it for years

I built the safe room and I don't let no one in there

'Cause if I do, there's a chance that they might disappear and not come back

And I admit I am emotionally scared to let anyone inside

So I just leave my doors locked

You might get other doors to open up but this door's not

'Cause I don't want you to have the opportunity to hurt me

And I'll be the only person that I can blame when you desert me

I'm barricaded inside so stop watching

I'm not coming to the door so stop knocking, stop knocking


I'm trapped here, God keeps saying I'm not locked in

I chose this, I am lost in my own conscience


I know that shutting the wall down ain't solving the problem

But I didn't build this house because I thought it would solve ´em

I built it because I thought that it was safer in there

But it's not, I'm not the only thing that's living in here

Fear came to my house years ago, I let him in

Maybe that's the problem 'cause I've been dealing with this ever since

I thought that he would leave, but it's obvious he never did

He must have picked the room and got comfortable and settled in

Now I'm in the position it's either sit here and let him win

Or put him back outside where he came from, but I never can

'Cause in order to do that I'd have to open the doors

Is that me or the fear talking?


I don't know anymore

Lonely (lonely) it's lonely

Oh yeah, it's lonely

Inside this mansion


Songwriters: David Arthur Garcia / Lauren Strahm / Nate Feuerstein

Mansion lyrics © The Bicycle Music Company, Capitol Christian Music Group

That Everything’s Inevitable

Katy Lederer

 

That everything’s inevitable. 

That fate is whatever has already happened. 

The brain, which is as elemental, as sane, as the rest of the processing universe is.

In this world, I am the surest thing.

Scrunched-up arms, folded legs, lovely destitute eyes. 

Please insert your spare coins. 

I am filling them up. 

Please insert your spare vision, your vigor, your vim. 

But yet, I am a vatic one. 

As vatic as the Vatican.

In the temper and the tantrum, in the well-kept arboretum

I am waiting, like an animal, 

For poetry.


From The Heaven-Sent Leaf by Katy Lederer. Copyright © 2008 by Katy Lederer. Used by permission of BOA Editions, Ltd

Lost and Found

Ron Padgett, 1942


                                       Man has lost his gods.
                                       If he loses his dignity,
                                       it’s all over.

I said that.


What did I mean?
First, that the belief
in divinity has almost
disappeared.


By dignity
I meant mutual
self-respect, the sense
that we have some right
to be here and that
there is value in it.
(Values are where
the gods went
when they died.)


My dog Susie doesn’t seem
to have any values, but she does
have Pat and me, gods
she gets to play with and bark at.

POETRY.ORG