Posted by trouble on March 31, 2002, at 0:37:55
In reply to quiz: name the Anne Sexton poem I'm thinkin of , posted by trouble on March 24, 2002, at 21:37:37
>>I know exactly what it is the world needs from me, I don't care what it says, I know I'm right this time,
>> You are what tells me I'm right,
>>no more trying to jump the fence, no more reflecting the world back at twice its size,
>>we are so much more of them than what they themselves have made of us, ha ha, jigs up no going back, goodbye to all that-
FOR JOHN, WHO BEGS ME NOT TO INQUIRE FURTHER
(Anne Sexton)
Not that it was beautiful,
but that, in the end, there was
a certain sense of order there;
someting worth learning
in that narrow diary of my mind,
in the commonplaces of the asylum
where the cracked mirror
or my own selfish death
outstared me.
And if I tried
to give you something else,
something outside of myself,
you would not know
that the worst of anyone
can be, finally,
an accident of hope.
I tapped my own head;
it was glass, an inverted bowl.
It is a small thing
to rage in your own bowl.
At first it was private.
Then it was more than myself;
it was you, or your house
or your kitchen.
And if you turn away
because there is no lesson here
I will hold my awkward bowl,
with all its cracked stars shining
like a complicated lie,
and fasten a new skin around it
as if I were dressing an orange
or a strange sun.
Not that it was beautiful,
but that I found some order there.
There ought to be something special
for someone
in this kind of hope.
This is someting I would never find
in a lovelier place, my dear,
although your fear is anyone's fear
like an invisible veil between us all...
and sometimes in private,
my kitchen, your kitchen,
my face, your face.>>
> they called us "worthless eaters" you know,
> and i agreed, totally,
> worthless eater,
>
> 'til there was you...>
> trouble
poster:trouble
thread:20803
URL: http://www.dr-bob.org/babble/social/20020325/msgs/21203.html