with my favourite poem

6

Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there.
I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow
I am the diamond glints on snow
I am the sunlight on ripened grain
I am the gentle autum rain.

And when you awaken in the morning’s hush
I am the swift uplifting rush
Of quiet birds in circled flight
I am the soft stars that shine at night.

Do not stand at my grave and cry.
I am not there.
I did not die.

                          - Mary Elizabeth Frye

i could grow fond of many things
but how particular my fondness of you
how fervent, how violent, how gentle
i think we’re just moths
riding on the backs of giants
and i wasn’t drawn to you
because our wings are both blue
but because they’re the same colour
as everyone else’s
and you were willing to listen to
why that scared me
—  loving like an existentialist (savannah brown)
i don’t know what living a balanced life feels like
when i am sad
i don’t cry, i pour
when i am happy
i don’t smile, i beam
when i am angry
i don’t yell, i burn
the good thing about
feeling in extremes
is when i love
i give them wings
but perhaps
that isn’t such a good thing
cause they always
tend to leave and
you should see me
when my heart is broken
i don’t grieve,
i shatter
—  Rupi Kuar

A wlw wish:

to share my whole self with her, my face when i am sad, my shaky hands when i’m anxious, my happiest memories and my quiet places, my favourite mug, my hoodies and my hair ties, perfume and postcards, my toothpaste and towels, playlists, pillows, cat videos, childhood films, my favourite books, angry poems i wrote at 1am, the way i take my tea, blankets and most of all, my time, my dreams, my future, my name

4

Welcome And Farewell

To horse! my pounding heart kept crying
No sooner was it thought than done
In evenings lap the earth was lying
And on the peaks the night was spun

Soon stood, in robe of mist, the oak,
A tow’ring giant in his size,
Where darkness from the thicket broke
And glared with hundred gloomy eyes

From out a hill of clouds the moon
With mournful gaze began to peer
The winds, their soft wings fluttered soon
And murmured in my awe-struck ear

The night a thousand monsters made,
Yet fresh and joyful was my mind;
What fire in my veins then burned!
What glow was in my bosom shrin’d!

I saw you, felt the joyful sweetness
Of your kind eyes pour over me,
My heart was yours in all completeness
And every breath I breathed for thee.


The roseate hues that spring supplied,
Where playing round thy features fair,
And love for me- ye deities!
I hoped it, I deserved it ne’er!

But soon’s the sunlight’s earliest minute
My heart grows faint to say goodbye
Your kisses warmth, what rapture in it!
What sorrow lingers in your eye!

I left, you stood with downcast eyes
In tears you saw me riding off:
Yet to be loved what happiness!
What happiness- ye gods!- to love!

                      
           - Johann Wolfgang von Goethe

World Poetry Day

I have a question for you all. What’s your favourite poem, and what’s your favourite line from that poem? If your favourite line of poetry is from a different poem, tell me that as well!

You’ve all been such absolute bbs lately and I have an idea for some COOL POETRY FUN that I want to do for you all as a little lexical thank you!

My favourite poem is probably Fragment 4 of Sappho:

I simply want to be dead.
Weeping she left me.

with many tears and said this:
Oh how badly things have turned out for us.
Sappho, I swear, against my will I leave you.

And I answered her:
Rejoice, go and
remember me. For you know how we cherished you.

But if not, I want
to remind you
]and beautiful times we had.

For many crowns of violets
and roses
[…] at my side you put on

and many woven garlands
made of flowers
around your soft throat.

And with sweet oil
costly
you anointed yourself

and on a soft bed
delicate
you would let loose your longing

(tr. Anne Carson)

but my favourite line of poetry is ‘Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun’, from Funeral Blues by WH Auden. It just absolutely encapsulates the dull ache of grief for me. I remember when my grandad died. I was 18, and the pervading emotion for the first few weeks wasn’t really sadness, but emptiness. It was an experience more than a feeling, like living on a different plane from everyone else, walking through the world and wondering ‘why hasn’t everybody stopped? Don’t they know that the world has ended?’ and feeling absolutely isolated and numb. So, that’s my favourite line. Cheery.

NOW YOUR TURN

The problem is
I don’t know how to look into your eyes and not fall deeper in love with you.
When you laugh I think I forget how to breath.
I’m trying to love you from a distance,
From afar in the quietest way I know how.
I have notebooks completely filled with you.
I don’t think I’ll ever run out of poems to write about you because you’re my favourite piece of artwork.
I’m trying to be less.
Trying to be quieter and not suffocate you with my love
and I just hope that one day I can look into those blue eyes and still be able to breath
I hope that one day I can love you for real and not just in the pages of my notebooks.
I hope that one day I can put my hand in yours and smile knowing that all the pain you caused me was worth it.
To me, you are the brightest star in the sky and I hope that one day you will see that I shine only for you.
—  L.S.