mmm...poetry

The City

by C. P. Cavafy Translated by Edmund Keeley
You said: "I'll go to another country. go to another shore,
find another city better than this one.
Whatever I try to do is fated to turn out wrong
and my heart lies buried like something dead.
How long can I let my mind moulder in this place?
Wherever I turn, wherever I look,
I see the black ruins of my life, here,
where I've spent so many years, wasted them, destroyed them totally."

You won't find a new country, won't find another shore.
This city will always pursue you.
You'll walk the same streets, grow old
in the same neighborhoods, turn gray in these same houses.
You'll always end up in this city. Don't hope for things elsewhere:
there's no ship for you, there's no road.
Now that you've wasted your life here, in this small corner,
you've destroyed it everywhere in the world.

I appreciated this poem because it speaks of the illusion of travel. Existence can be a hard pill to swallow and this poem reflects what I believe to be an innate struggle: the want to escape. When things get tough or our surroundings feel dull, I think human beings want to get up and leave their lives in search of something new, exciting and novel. That seemingly wonderful elixir we make world travel out to be can turn poisonous quite fast. This poem talks about being trapped in the city, yet the very last line holds the intended meaning. ‘You’ve destroyed it everywhere in the world’—think about what this means, the author seems to be telling us that if you waste your life in one place, you’ve wasted it everywhere in the world. Humans are always reaching for the next level, always wanting more and this poem reflects how the chase for euphoria can be destructive. In my opinion, there is no such thing as sustainable happiness, there is only contentedness. We are all limited by circumstance, and through these circumstances we must realize that some things will be attainable while others will not. It’s not to say that we should settle, but rather we should be satisfied with that which we cannot change.

Man in the street

He claps a hand
Across the gaping hole
Or else the sight might
Well inside to
Melt the mind (if any
Thinking spoke
Were in the wheel,
Or any real
Fright-fragments broke
Out of the gorge to
Soak the breast, the meaning
Might incite a stroke—best
Press against it, close
The clawhole, stand
In stupor, petrified. The dream
Be damned, the deeps defied.
The hands to keep
The scream inside

--Heather McHugh

THIS POEM WAS AWESOME
And I’m still not sure exactly why…
I didn’t understand what was happening, but it was so dramatic I pictured some movie-like scene. I really liked how once again, the climax is at the end. Her usage of verbs and the way she rhymed the words brimmed with a sense of drama that made the poem read well in my head. I actually liked how it was difficult to understand what it meant because it forces you to read it over and think what she meant by each part. I would say that this poem was artfully confusing.


We live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not breaths

by Philip James Bailey
We live in deeds, not years; in thoughts, not breaths;
In feelings, not in figures on a dial.
We should count time by heart-throbs. He most lives
Who thinks most, feels the noblest, acts the best.
And he whose heart beats quickest lives the longest:
Lives in one hour more than in years do some
Whose fat blood sleeps as it slips along their veins.
Life's but a means unto an end; that end,
Beginning, mean, and end to all things—God.
The dead have all the glory of the world.

I loved this poem because it reflected the ‘Carpe Diem’ type of thought. Life is short and to live each moment with urgency seems only appropriate when you consider that death is ultimate reality. This poem had a moral background, which personally, I liked. It fell in with how I see things. I really like the motivational flare as well, it seemed to be a poem that is trying to call people toward living life to the fullest and really appreciating the sanctity of time. Did you notice the term 'fat blood'--loved that. Fat blood makes one think of a person who is so gluttonous that even their blood is lazy and slips through their veins slowly. The heart beat being quick also reflects the idea that one is moving, acting, and DOING. Action with intention behind them is to be essentially human, and I think this poem touched on that quite well...