Friday, April 24, 2020

Celebrate Poetry! #NationalPoetryMonth #SaraTeasdale #Logos

National Poetry Month banner

April is more than half over, and I haven’t yet marked National Poetry Month here at Beyond Romance!

I thought I’d remedy that today by sharing two poems. The one by Sara Teasdale might well be my all-time favorite poem. It beautifully captures the elusive and overwhelming nature of joy.

The other is one of my own poems, from many years ago. I’ve been writing poetry since I was seven years old. Nobody taught me how (though my parents did read a lot of verse to me). I’ve just always known, it seems, about the special music that can found in language. And I’ve always written about love and desire.

What’s your favorite poem?

What do you think of these?

Sara Teasdale - 1884-1933

Life has loveliness to sell,
     All beautiful and splendid things,
Blue waves whitened on a cliff,
     Soaring fire that sways and sings,
And children's faces looking up
Holding wonder in a cup.

Life has loveliness to sell,
     Music like a curve of gold,
Scent of pine trees in the rain,
     Eyes that love you, arms that hold,
And for your spirit's still delight,
Holy thoughts that star the night.

Spend all you have for loveliness,
     Buy it and never count the cost;
For one white singing hour of peace
     Count many a year of strife well lost,
And for a breath of ecstacy
Give all you have been, or could be.

Lisabet Sarai

(for GCS)

the word made flesh.
electric whispers
trace the wires
speed of light
the dream takes shape.

     (here I am now,
     on my knees,
     bound and breathless,
     open and still,
     awaiting your will.)

violet ink
on ivory parchment;
mystic runes
in flickering phosphor
glow and fade;
tangled tales
come alive:
candle light
and velvet shadow,
ruby wine,
leather and steel.

     (seductive, real
     as the lust in your eyes;
     you seem surprised.)

moon embraced
in naked branches,
nightwind breathing
in my hair,
westbound plane
burns through the dark.
I speak your name
and you are there.
fragile walls
between the worlds
melt to mist:
I step beyond
the looking glass.

     (eat me. drink me.
     all transformed,
     logic crumbles,
     powers awaken;
     offered for
     the ritual--
     offered, and taken.)

inscribe the signs,
recite the charms,
weave the web
of words. We practice
ancient art:
in nomine.

     you called me, claimed me,
     named me with
     my secret name,
     clasped me
     in this circling flame.)

now we reinvent each other,
mage, apprentice, captive, lover,
fashion masks
from the stuff of Story,
words as lens
to focus longing,
vision to flesh.

     (hand molds breast,
     lips taste thigh,
     kisses drenched
     in silver fire:
     forms of
     crystallized desire.)

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