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RECC: 2 LOVE POEMS
Jun. 9th, 2022 03:59 pmHere are two poems that I've been coming back to recently and want to share.
The first is a Whitman poem; I've been trying to give him another chance, especially since I can't recall why I turned my nose up at his poetry in high school. Perhaps it had to do with how he romanticizes the working class but isn't of it himself? Something like that, which could be entirely wrong; my memories are fuzzy about what I learned. The second poem is one I read a year ago and couldn't wrap my brain around. I sat down with it a few months ago and dissected it, since it was nagging me. And once I did? I fell in love. Perfect for a love poem, huh?
I don't want to hype these two pieces up, but both poems make me go haywire.
+++
"When I Heard at the Close of the Day", by Walt Whitman
When I heard at the close of the day how my name had been receiv’d with plaudits in the capitol, still it was not a happy night for me that follow’d,
And else when I carous’d, or when my plans were accomplish’d, still I was not happy,
But the day when I rose at dawn from the bed of perfect health, refresh’d, singing, inhaling the ripe breath of autumn,
When I saw the full moon in the west grow pale and disappear in the morning light,
When I wander’d alone over the beach, and undressing bathed, laughing with the cool waters, and saw the sun rise,
And when I thought how my dear friend my lover was on his way coming, O then I was happy,
O then each breath tasted sweeter, and all that day my food nourish’d me more, and the beautiful day pass’d well,
And the next came with equal joy, and with the next at evening came my friend,
And that night while all was still I heard the waters roll slowly continually up the shores,
I heard the hissing rustle of the liquid and sands as directed to me whispering to congratulate me,
For the one I love most lay sleeping by me under the same cover in the cool night,
In the stillness in the autumn moonbeams his face was inclined toward me,
And his arm lay lightly around my breast — and that night I was happy.
. . .
( thoughts )
+++
"Soup Is One Form of Salt Water", by Heather Christle
I am making borscht please do not laugh at me I seem to have ruined my
soul the quality of television programming grows stronger all the time soon we
will live in the ocean we will all return to the ocean my hands are bright
pink like I have been applauding you for hours my love for you is louder than I
know I saw a show last night there were four thousand brides left in Iceland I
was laughing but it was not funny the brides looked embarrassed and cold I
must not wash anywhere but a tide pool I must use starfish to scrub at my
hands I am writing this to say I am not leaving you forever I am going to get
better and then I’ll come home
. . .
( thoughts/dissection )
The first is a Whitman poem; I've been trying to give him another chance, especially since I can't recall why I turned my nose up at his poetry in high school. Perhaps it had to do with how he romanticizes the working class but isn't of it himself? Something like that, which could be entirely wrong; my memories are fuzzy about what I learned. The second poem is one I read a year ago and couldn't wrap my brain around. I sat down with it a few months ago and dissected it, since it was nagging me. And once I did? I fell in love. Perfect for a love poem, huh?
I don't want to hype these two pieces up, but both poems make me go haywire.
+++
"When I Heard at the Close of the Day", by Walt Whitman
When I heard at the close of the day how my name had been receiv’d with plaudits in the capitol, still it was not a happy night for me that follow’d,
And else when I carous’d, or when my plans were accomplish’d, still I was not happy,
But the day when I rose at dawn from the bed of perfect health, refresh’d, singing, inhaling the ripe breath of autumn,
When I saw the full moon in the west grow pale and disappear in the morning light,
When I wander’d alone over the beach, and undressing bathed, laughing with the cool waters, and saw the sun rise,
And when I thought how my dear friend my lover was on his way coming, O then I was happy,
O then each breath tasted sweeter, and all that day my food nourish’d me more, and the beautiful day pass’d well,
And the next came with equal joy, and with the next at evening came my friend,
And that night while all was still I heard the waters roll slowly continually up the shores,
I heard the hissing rustle of the liquid and sands as directed to me whispering to congratulate me,
For the one I love most lay sleeping by me under the same cover in the cool night,
In the stillness in the autumn moonbeams his face was inclined toward me,
And his arm lay lightly around my breast — and that night I was happy.
. . .
( thoughts )
+++
"Soup Is One Form of Salt Water", by Heather Christle
I am making borscht please do not laugh at me I seem to have ruined my
soul the quality of television programming grows stronger all the time soon we
will live in the ocean we will all return to the ocean my hands are bright
pink like I have been applauding you for hours my love for you is louder than I
know I saw a show last night there were four thousand brides left in Iceland I
was laughing but it was not funny the brides looked embarrassed and cold I
must not wash anywhere but a tide pool I must use starfish to scrub at my
hands I am writing this to say I am not leaving you forever I am going to get
better and then I’ll come home
. . .
( thoughts/dissection )
