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.
A few random poems:
- Sonnet 34: Why didst thou promise such a beauteous day by William Shakespeare
- Николай Карамзин – Гимн слепых
- Love’s Divinest Power by Timothy Thomas Fortune
- Christmas poem – John Betjeman poems | Poems and Poetry
- Even Because by Ralph Angel
- Sonnet 91: Some glory in their birth, some in their skill by William Shakespeare
- Иосиф Бродский – Бюст Тиберия
- Absolution by Siegfried Sassoon
- The Statues by William Butler Yeats
- The Light o’ the Moon by Vachel Lindsay
- Robert Burns: Monody: On a lady famed for her Caprice.
- Compromising my ego by Tanisha Avarsekar
- Never Sure Which You Are by Mary Etta Metcalf
- Владимир Костров – Выходец из волости лесистой
- Новелла Матвеева – Отражённым светом
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
- Robert Burns: The Captain’s Lady:
- Robert Burns: Sweet Tibbie Dunbar:
- Robert Burns: I Love My Love In Secret:
- Robert Burns: Jamie, Come Try Me:
- Robert Burns: The Banks Of Nith:
- Robert Burns: Young Jockie Was The Blythest Lad:
- Robert Burns: On A Bank Of Flowers:
- Robert Burns: The Gard’ner Wi’ His Paidle:
- Robert Burns: Delia, An Ode : “To the Editor of The Star.-Mr. Printer-If the productions of a simple ploughman can merit a place in the same paper with Sylvester Otway, and the other favourites of the Muses who illuminate the Star with the lustre of genius, your insertion of the enclosed trifle will be succeeded by future communications from-Yours, &c., R. Burns. Ellisland, near Dumfries, 18th May, 1789.”
- Robert Burns: The Wounded Hare:
- Robert Burns: Sketch In Verse: Inscribed to the Right Hon. C. J. Fox.
- Robert Burns: A New Psalm For The Chapel Of Kilmarnock: On the Thanksgiving-Day for His Majesty’s Recovery.
- Robert Burns: Epistle To James Tennant Of Glenconner:
- Robert Burns: Ode On The Departed Regency Bill:
- Robert Burns: Beware O’ Bonie Ann:
- Robert Burns: To Miss Cruickshank, a very Young Lady : Written on the Blank Leaf of a Book, presented to her by the Author.
- Robert Burns: Caledonia -A Ballad :
- Robert Burns: Lines To John M’Murdo, Esq. Of Drumlanrig: Sent with some of the Author’s Poems.
- Robert Burns: Impromptu Lines To Captain Riddell: On Returning a Newspaper.
- Robert Burns: She’s Fair And Fause:
More external links (open in a new tab):
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
The Poetry Repository – an online library of poems, poetry, verse and poetic works
Adrienne Cecile Rich (1929 – 2012) was an American poet, essayist, and feminist.