Saturday, May 08, 2010

Chasing Butterflies

It’s a cool May Saturday.

A day whose map is still unclear with  seven or eight hours of work ahead of me; I do, however,  have the luxury to postpone the chores – for almost a quarter of an hour.

As I relish the taste of my new found freedom of deferral, I imagine that I would have time to write a post in my blog “The Continuous Poem”.

Hmmm….so what would this post look like?

It might be a collage of poetry – a collection of poetic meaning to be grasped, looked at in amazement and launched back into the blue yonder.

I feel like a butterfly chaser, armed with only a net of words.

The first lines that greet me are from John Donne’s "Computation":

"For the first twenty years since yesterday
I scarce believed thou couldst be gone away;"

followed by a fragment of Jules Laforgues’ "Complainte des printemps" (Complaint of Springs)

"Allow me, oh, siren
Your breath scents
The verbena -
Spring begins!”

From here, jumping over to Robert Creeley’s “The Window” :

heavy the slow

world is with  
everything put  
in place. "

Finally some lines  from Homer’s Iliad, translated by Robert Fagles (page 486 in the book):

“And he forged on the shield a heard of longhorn cattle,
working the bulls in beaten gold and tin, lowing loud
and rumbling out of the farmyard dung to pasture
about a rippling stream, along the swaying reeds.”

Since butterfly chasers rarely catch anything, I stop to catch my breadth near a handful of "Cyclamens" by Michael Field:

"Yet I, who have all these things in ken,                               
Am struck to the heart by the chiselled white
 Of this handful of cyclamen."
Fortunately enough for me , this is only an imaginary post in an imaginary blog.

I can go back now to some arduous work.


John Hayes said...

What a fun assortment--the lines by Donne really struck me.

Short Poems said...

I loved your composition, lovely blog :)

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