Any with the envy, pressing
Problematic,
pained
Tense and terse and undermined
By self-erasing
shame.
Leave me with a shred of...something...
Spark of story,
Pride,
The voice that falls to voiceless
As you prattle by its side.
Petitioning for pity. Fooling me, at least
--And you?--
Where wrong is right and right condemned
And I for I the rule.
Forgetting with the spiral,
At the center,
at the end:
I've bought myself this torment,
Spending hatred--
and a friend.
That's about where my mind is right now. I've been in a real whirlwind of sinful thoughts/emotions. Probably has something to do with choosing to do just about anything other than read the Bible and pray. Especially pray. Sigh.
On a related note, I was reading some of Auden's poetry, searching for seasonal themes, when I came across these lines from part three of "In Memory of W.B. Yeats." I studied this poem a few years ago (In Lyric Poetry with Dr. Holly Laird--wonderful class, any current/future TU students!) and loved it, but these lines are like new--because I frankly don't remember them at all.
"Follow, poet, follow right
To the bottom of the night,
With your unconstraining voice
Still persuade us to rejoice;
With the farming of a verse
Make a vineyard of the curse,
Sing of human unsuccess
In a rapture of distress;
In the deserts of the heart
Let the healing fountain start,
In the prison of his days
Teach the free man how to praise."
