From James Joyce: “Poetry, even when apparently most fantastic, is always a revolt against artifice, a revolt, in a sense, against actuality.”
Tag Archives: poetry
Dog
Sun-warmed shadowSleeping soundIn your place upon the ground Trembling, growling in your dreams Running free through fields of green As I sit watching, silentI look upon your speckled browAs I see you slowly greying The secret work of time betraying All the deeds of men convergeCities built and battles wonAs you lie beside my windowContinue reading “Dog”
Cabin
Though I must go back from whence I came, I shall return in mind again To my little cabin in the woods Which over an emerald field stood. Though tomorrow may bring trouble And the busy world bring sorrow In memory I may find respite A campfire in a long, dark night.
Life
Today I amI once was notAgain I will not beAnd always I will be myselfUntil there is no me At first I was a shriveled thingA toothless, hairless headAnd so again will I appearWhen at last I go to bed To start I was an empty slateI learned to loveI learned to hateI learned ofContinue reading “Life”
A poem
A bird alighted on a bough It came to be I know not how He sang his song While I looked on The world sang all around him In a flash It seemed to be I was the bird The bird was me
Shall I at least set my lands in order?
Sometimes, when I’m procrastinating, I think of this section from The Waste Land. “I sat upon the shore Fishing, with the arid plain behind me Shall I at least set my lands in order?” As I recall, he’s referencing the Fisher King from Arthurian legend. The Fisher King Perhaps tonight, while I waste my timeContinue reading “Shall I at least set my lands in order?”
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