Integrity

A poem by Adrienne Cecile Rich (1929 – 2012)

the quality of being complete; unbroken condition; entirety

~ Webster

A wild patience has taken me this far

as if I had to bring to shore

a boat with a spasmodic outboard motor

old sweaters, nets, spray-mottled books

tossed in the prow

some kind of sun burning my shoulder-blades.

Splashing the oarlocks. Burning through.

Your fore-arms can get scalded, licked with pain

in a sun blotted like unspoken anger

behind a casual mist.

The length of daylight

this far north, in this

forty-ninth year of my life

is critical.

The light is critical: of me, of this

long-dreamed, involuntary landing

on the arm of an inland sea.

The glitter of the shoal

depleting into shadow

I recognize: the stand of pines

violet-black really, green in the old postcard

but really I have nothing but myself

to go by; nothing

stands in the realm of pure necessity

except what my hands can hold.

Nothing but myself?….My selves.

After so long, this answer.

As if I had always known

I steer the boat in, simply.

The motor dying on the pebbles

cicadas taking up the hum

dropped in the silence.

Anger and tenderness: my selves.

And now I can believe they breathe in me

as angels, not polarities.

Anger and tenderness: the spider’s genius

to spin and weave in the same action

from her own body, anywhere —

even from a broken web.

The cabin in the stand of pines

is still for sale. I know this. Know the print

of the last foot, the hand that slammed and locked the door,

then stopped to wreathe the rain-smashed clematis

back on the trellis

for no one’s sake except its own.

I know the chart nailed to the wallboards

the icy kettle squatting on the burner.

The hands that hammered in those nails

emptied that kettle one last time

are these two hands

and they have caught the baby leaping

from between trembling legs

and they have worked the vacuum aspirator

and stroked the sweated temples

and steered the boat there through this hot

misblotted sunlight, critical light

imperceptibly scalding

the skin these hands will also salve.

Poetry Monster – Home

A few random poems:

External links

Bat’s Poetry Page – more poetry by Fledermaus

Talking Writing Monster’s Page –

Batty Writing – the bat’s idle chatter, thoughts, ideas and observations, all original, all fresh

Poems in English 

• Spenserian Stanzas On Charles Armitage Brown poem – John Keats poems by John Keats
• Spenserian Stanza. Written At The Close Of Canto II, Book V, Of “The Faerie Queene” poem – John Keats poems by John Keats
• Specimen Of An Induction To A Poem poem – John Keats poems by John Keats
• Sonnet XVII. Happy Is England poem – John Keats poems by John Keats
• Sonnet XVI. To Kosciusko poem – John Keats poems by John Keats
• Sonnet XV. On The Grasshopper And Cricket poem – John Keats poems by John Keats
• Sonnet XIV. Addressed To The Same (Haydon) poem – John Keats poems by John Keats
• Sonnet X. To One Who Has Been Long In City Pent poem – John Keats poems by John Keats
• Sonnet XIII. Addressed To Haydon poem – John Keats poems by John Keats
• Sonnet XII. On Leaving Some Friends At An Early Hour poem – John Keats poems by John Keats
• Sonnet XI. On First Looking Into Chapman’s Homer poem – John Keats poems by John Keats
• Sonnet. Written Upon The Top Of Ben Nevis poem – John Keats poems by John Keats
• Sonnet. Written On A Blank Space At The End Of Chaucer’s Tale Of ‘The Floure And The Lefe’ poem – John Keats poems by John Keats
• Sonnet. Written On A Blank Page In Shakespeare’s Poems, Facing ‘A Lover’s Complaint’ poem – John Keats poems by John Keats
• Sonnet. Written In Disgust Of Vulgar Superstition poem – John Keats poems by John Keats
• Sonnet. Written In Answer To A Sonnet By J. H. Reynolds poem – John Keats poems by John Keats
• Sonnet. Written Before Re-Read King Lear poem – John Keats poems by John Keats
• Sonnet. Why Did I Laugh Tonight? poem – John Keats poems by John Keats
• Sonnet: When I Have Fears That I May Cease To Be poem – John Keats poems by John Keats
• Sonnet VIII. To My Brothers poem – John Keats poems by John Keats

More external links (open in a new tab):

Russian Commerce Agency

Dealing Monster

Doska or the Board – write anything

Search engines:

Yandex – the best search engine for searches in Russian (and the best overall image search engine, in any language, anywhere)

Qwant – the best search engine for searches in French, German as well as Romance and Germanic languages.

Ecosia – a search engine that supposedly… plants trees

Duckduckgo – the real alternative and a search engine that actually works. Without much censorship or partisan politics.

Yahoo– yes, it’s still around, amazingly, miraculously, incredibly, but now it seems to be powered by Bing.

 

Parallel Translations of Poetry

Poems by Author and Category

The Poetry Repository – an online library of poems, poetry, verse and poetic works