Art thou pale for weariness of climbing heaven and gazing on the earth, wandering companionless among the stars that have a different birth, and ever changing, like a joyless eye that finds no object worth it's constancy? Thou chosen sister of the Spirit, that gazes on thee til in thee it pities. . . -Shelley (To The Moon)

Tuesday, November 2, 2010

New Age


It is nearly my bedtime, and I'm looking forward to pillows and blankets. This poem speaks more for my state of mind at the moment, because I just finished writing it a moment ago; it took me fifteen minutes to write, including one interruption by a phone call. There is a slight "Hallmark card" feel to some of the lines. . . perhaps I will make my own greeting card out this poem, on handmade paper, no less! Perhaps it will be you who receives it. . .

The above painting is by Frida Kahlo, it was her last, called Long Live Life and to the right is Renoir's Child In White.


Drain.

Go for it.
Explain why
over and over
to yourself
and someone who is safe.
Probably a professional.
Wear only shades of green.
Stalk through a forest.
Become like reeds
lining skylit ponds,
always bending.
Soften
until even your strength
is at hardest vulnerable,
until you free yourself,
and every animal
that crosses your path.
Then look over your shoulder
and remember
not to trust anyone
you don't want to trust.
This is your heart
we're talking about.

Someone, a god,
lost in modernity,

said, "you are light"
and gave you everything.
Now, let the overflowing
fruit tumble from the basket
and roll away.
Some of your gifts
are meant to sustain
others only - but who?
You don't get to choose.

Stun your neighbours
by showing your love
for sun and moon
with perfect thoughts
from your perfect bodymind.
It's new age.
Earth is heaven's hospital
for half-angels.

3 comments:

  1. I love it Nicole. Partly, I confess, because that is the kind of mood I am in too, and planning to write something on my own blog which embodies similar values.

    I am your neighbour. You have made a good start by stunning me. Your gifts are sustaining me too, though you didn't choose me as your visitor here.

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  2. This is beautiful. To me it speaks of great generosity of life-giving gifts, and the effects they have and can have on other people, well beyond the giver's control, or even awareness. It's hard to determine though if the speaker of the poem is talking to themselves, or somebody else entirely. There seems to be a lot of coaxing the person to relieve themselves of all their burdens to someone they trust, to become strong, always bending but never breaking, to realize all that he or she is capable of being, and to do more things in service to others.

    This person must be very special indeed, judging by the last line "Earth is heaven's hospital for half-angels", denoting someone with angelic qualities, but who is still imperfectly human.

    That's my take on it anyways, and I could be way off the mark, but that's one of the things I love about well-written poetry, and I really like this. It's really cool you were able to just whip something like this out in a matter of minutes. Sorry about the phone call hahaha!

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  3. Oh and I forgot: to never lose sight of protecting themselves as well.

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