deepundergroundpoetry.com
Leftovers
people talk of interactivity
hyper reality and fake news
what happened ?
my ear drums
are aching
my eyes won’t
open, it all looks
but isn’t
there
a boring dream.
I ate that food
you left
behind because
I hate
waste
Published 30th Oct 2017
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31st Oct 2017 00:42am
i read a beautiful poem today ! I think you would like it !
I want to write like this !
She
I think the dead are tender. Shall we kiss?
My lady laughs, delighting in what is.
If she but sighs, a bird puts out its tongue.
She makes space lonely with a lovely song.
She lilts a low soft language, and I hear
Down long sea-chambers of the inner ear.
We sing together; we sing mouth to mouth.
The garden is a river flowing south.
She cries out loud the soul's own secret joy;
She dances, and the ground bears her away.
She knows the speech of light, and makes it plain
A lively thing can come to life again.
I feel her presence in the common day,
In that slow dark that widens every eye.
She moves as water moves, and comes to me,
Stayed by what was, and pulled by what would be.
Theodore Roethke
I want to write like this !
She
I think the dead are tender. Shall we kiss?
My lady laughs, delighting in what is.
If she but sighs, a bird puts out its tongue.
She makes space lonely with a lovely song.
She lilts a low soft language, and I hear
Down long sea-chambers of the inner ear.
We sing together; we sing mouth to mouth.
The garden is a river flowing south.
She cries out loud the soul's own secret joy;
She dances, and the ground bears her away.
She knows the speech of light, and makes it plain
A lively thing can come to life again.
I feel her presence in the common day,
In that slow dark that widens every eye.
She moves as water moves, and comes to me,
Stayed by what was, and pulled by what would be.
Theodore Roethke
