a time for
love and hate
stones to gather
pains die in time
A Blackout/Found Poem. See the source poem below:
A Man In His Life
by Yehuda Amichai
A man doesn’t have time in his life
to have time for everything.
He doesn’t have seasons enough to have
a season for every purpose. Ecclesiastes
Was wrong about that.
A man needs to love and to hate at the same moment,
to laugh and cry with the same eyes,
with the same hands to throw stones and to gather them,
to make love in war and war in love.
And to hate and forgive and remember and forget,
to arrange and confuse, to eat and to digest
takes years and years to do.
A man doesn’t have time.
When he loses he seeks, when he finds
he forgets, when he forgets he loves, when he loves
he begins to forget.
And his soul is seasoned, his soul
is very professional.
Only his body remains forever
an amateur. It tries and it misses, gets muddled, doesn’t learn a thing,
drunk and blind in its pleasures
and its pains.
He will die as figs die in autumn,
Shriveled and full of himself and sweet,
the leaves growing dry on the ground,
the bare branches pointing to the place
where there’s time for everything.
Much as he left it when he went from us Here was the room again wherehe had been So long that something of him should be seen, Or felt-and so it was. Incredulous, I turned about, loath to be greeted thus, And there he was in his old chair, serene As ever, and as laconic as lean As when he lived, and as cadaverous. Calm as he was of old when we were young, He sat there gazing at the pallid flame Before him. ‘And how far will this go on?’ I thought. He felt the failure of my tongue, And smiled: ‘I was not here until you came; And I shall not be here when you are gone.’
I have loved
like a breath…
fear not death
feast on beauty
shed a tear
A Found/Blackout Poem inspired by this lovely poem by Robert Bridges at 100.Best-Poems.net.
I have loved flowers that fade
I have loved flowers that fade,
Within whose magic tents
Rich hues have marriage made
With sweet unmemoried scents:
A honeymoon delight,
A joy of love at sight,
That ages in an hour
My song be like a flower!.
I have loved airs that die
Before their charm is writ
Along a liquid sky
Trembling to welcome it.
Notes, that with pulse of fire
Proclaim the spirit’s desire,
Then die, and are nowhere
My song be like an air!
Die, song, die like a breath,
And wither as a bloom; Fear not a flowery death,
Dread not an airy tomb!
Fly withdelight, fly hence!
‘Twas thine love’s tender sense
To feast; now on thy bier Beauty shall shed a tear.
i want someone to guess what’s underneath, past the glitter i want to confirm your worst, to show you i care except i find that this world cries and cries and i’ll be damned they bury me
A “Found” or “Blackout” Poem based on the second best poem according to 100.Best-Poems.net.
What Do Women Want? by Kim Addonizio I want a red dress. I want it flimsy and cheap, I want it too tight, I want to wear it until someone tears it off me. I want it sleeveless and backless, this dress, so no one has toguess what’s underneath. I want to walk down the street past Thrifty’s and the hardware store with all those keys glittering inthe window, past Mr. and Mrs. Wong selling day-old donuts in their café, past theGuerra brothers slinging pigs from the truck and onto the dolly, hoisting the slick snouts over their shoulders. I want to walk like I’m the only woman on earth and I can have my pick. I want that red dress bad. I want it to confirm your worst fears about me, to show you how little I care about you or anything except what I want. When I find it, I’ll pull that garment from its hanger like I’m choosing a body to carry me into this world, through the birth-criesand the love-cries too, andI’ll wear it likebones, like skin, it’ll be the goddamned dress they bury me in.
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