A Brief for the Defense
Sorrow everywhere. Slaughter everywhere. If babies
are not starving someplace, they are starving
somewhere else. With flies in their nostrils.
But we enjoy our lives because that's what God wants.
Otherwise the mornings before summer dawn would
not be made so fine. The Bengal tiger would not
be fashioned so miraculously well. The poor women
at the fountain are laughing together between
the suffering they have known and the awfulness
in their future, smiling and laughing while somebody
in the village is very sick. There is laughter
every day in the terrible streets of Calcutta,
and the women laugh in the cages of Bombay.
If we deny our happiness, resist our satisfaction,
we lessen the importance of their deprivation.
We must risk delight. We can do without pleasure,
but not delight. Not enjoyment. We must have
the stubbornness to accept our gladness in the ruthless
furnace of this world. To make injustice the only
measure of our attention is to praise the Devil.
If the locomotive of the Lord runs us down,
we should give thanks that the end had magnitude.
We must admit there will be music despite everything.
We stand at the prow again of a small ship
anchored late at night in the tiny port
looking over to the sleeping island: the waterfront
is three shuttered cafés and one naked light burning.
To hear the faint sound of oars in the silence as a
rowboat comes slowly out and then goes back is truly
worth all the years of sorrow that are to come.
— Jack Gilbert
Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label poetry. Show all posts
4.04.2007
easter. hmmmm....
3.19.2007
empty
space.
sometimes i want it. sometimes i long for the quiet. the peace.
now they're gone, and i'm alone.
"it's lonely coming home to an empty house," i said.
"tell me about it," he replied with a forlorn grin.
too easily i take for granted the ones i love most in the press of every day.
in the empty i remember.
remember the love.
he ran away to a lonely desert, depressed and alone.
God stopped by. burning coals.
he ran to a lonesome mountain.
God stopped by. still small voice.
he wandered in the hunger and thirst.
devil stopped by. temptation.
things seem to happen in the empty spaces.
will i listen?
3.06.2007
beware of moat
here i am in the middle of my skin
no way out
no way in
rain can blow while roadsigns quiver
their silent fingers pointing
directions to empty minds
hearty words find home in my soul
digging a ditch
beware of moat
...surround and protect
no way out.
no way in.
when last did music satisfy this hunger?
platters of spicy goodness dancing in my ears
tomorrow
yesterday
life. it's everywhere
to be found
to be tasted
to be heard
rose petals in a tasty cake
soft
no way out?
no way in?
good.
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