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Edited on Mon Nov-15-04 01:25 PM by puddycat
I love poetry, and as day by day I slog through these dark times in America, I turn to poetry. Because I must. To soothe my hurting soul.
Here is one of my favorites:
KISSING AND HORRID STRIFE by D.H. LAWRENCE
I have been defeated and dragged down by pain and worsted by the evil world-soul of today.
But still I know that life is for delight and for bliss as now when the tiny wavelets of the sea tip the morning light on edge, and spill it with delight to show how inexhaustible it is:
And life is for delight, and bliss like now when the white sun kisses the sea and plays with the wavelets like a panther playing with its cubs cuffing them with soft paws, and blows that are caresses, kisses of the soft-balled paws, where the talons are.
And life is for dread, for doom that darkens, and the Sunderers that sunder us from each other, that strip us and destroy us and break us down as the tall foxgloves and the mulleins and mallows torn down by dismembering autumn till not a vestige is left, and black winter has no trace of any such flowers; and yet the roots below the blackness are intact: the Thunderers and the Sunderers have their term, their limit, their thus far and no further.
Life is for kissing and for horrid strife. Life is for the angels and the Sunderers. Life is for the daimons and the demons, those that put honey on our lips, and those that put salt. But life is not for the dead vanity of knowing better, nor the blank cold comfort of superiority, nor silly conceit of being immune, nor pueriIity of contradictions like saying snow is black, or desire is evil.
Life is for kissing and for horrid strife, the angels and the Sunderers. And perhaps in unknown Death we perhaps shall know Oneness and poised immunity. But why then should we die while we can live ? And while we live the kissing and communing cannot cease nor yet the striving and the horrid strife.
Does anyone else have a poem that they've turned to recently and would like to share?
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