#poetrymonth So Brecht wrote plays and Lawrence wrote novels & they both wrote lots of poems!
#poetrymonth So Brecht wrote plays and Lawrence wrote novels & they both wrote lots of poems!
Another swap - this one for National Poetry Month! @Chrissyreadit and @TheBookHippie are hosting #aprilpoetryswap 📖
I can appreciate the craft in some of these poems, but I don‘t think any will become favorites. Some of the stuff is super cringy (the one about his erection) or a bit of sexism or racism will take me out of the experience (like calling your dog the n-word or that poem where women are compared to figs, which are basically prostitutes).
Yeah, the cringy stuff is sticking with me more than the beautiful and profound stuff. 🤷🏻♀️
#catsoflitsy
Wistfully watching, with wonderful liquid eyes.
And all her weight, all her blood, dripping sack-wise down towards the earth‘s centre,
And the live little-one taking in its paw at the door of her belly.
Leap then, and come down on the line that draws to the earth‘s deep, heavy centre.
From “Kangaroo” by D.H. Lawrence #nationalpoetrymonth
All life carried on your shoulder,
Invincible fore-runner.
From “Baby Tortoise” by D.H. Lawrence #nationalpoetrymonth
In China the bat is symbol of happiness.
Not for me!
From “Bat” by D.H. Lawrence #nationalpoetrymonth
Part VI of “Wedlock” by D.H. Lawrence #nationalpoetrymonth
And yet all the while you are you, you are not me.
And I am I, I am never you.
How awfully distinct and far off from each other‘s being
we are!
Yet I am glad.
“Grief, grief, I suppose and sufficient
Grief makes us free
To be faithless and faithful together
As we have to be.”
From “Hymn to Priapus” by D.H. Lawrence
#NationalPoetryMonth
“And half lies there in the dark where the dead all lie
Lost and yet still connected; and between the two
Strange beans must travel still, for I feel that I
Am lit beneath my heart with a half-moon, weird and blue.”
From “Troth with the Dead” by D.H. Lawrence
#NationalPoetryMonth
“And down his mouth comes to my mouth! and down
His bright dark eyes come over me, like a hood
Upon my mind! his lips meet mine, and a flood
Of sweet fire sweeps across me, so I drown
Against him, die, and find death good.”
#poetrymatters March 30: dusk
Piano by D.H. Lawrence
...So now it is vain for the singer to burst into clamour
With the great black piano appassionato. The glamour
Of childish days is upon me, my manhood is cast
Down in the flood of remembrance, I weep like a child for the past.
#Bittersweet #QuotsyNov17