Apr. 1st, 2011

darchildre: birch trees in autumn (yi elischi sa ai chi bedhul)
April is Poetry Month and I always love seeing the poems that other people post. And, well, I figured that I have a good deal of poetry in my delicious bookmarks that I have found in various places around the internet, so why not post some of it? So I'm going to try to post a poem for every day in April this year.


You Begin, by Margaret Atwood

You being this way:
this is your hand,
this is your eye,
that is a fish, blue and flat
on the paper, almost
the shape of an eye.
This is your mouth, this is an O
or a moon, whichever
you like. This is yellow.

Outside the window
is the rain, green
because it is summer, and beyond that
the trees and then the world,
which is round and has only
the colors of these nine crayons.

This is the world, which is fuller
and more difficult to learn than I have said.
You are right to smudge it that way
with the red and then
the orange: the world burns.

Once you have learned these words
you will learn that there are more
words than you can ever learn.
The word hand floats above your hand
like a small cloud over a lake.
The word hand anchors your hand to this table,
your hand is a warm stone
I hold between two words.

This is your hand, these are my hands, this is the world,
which is round but not flat and has more colors
than we can see.

It begins, it has an end,
this is what you will
come back to, this is your hand.

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darchildre: a candle in the dark.  text:  "a light in dark places". (Default)
Renfield

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