It’s been a looooong time since I’ve tried my hand at poetry (most of it happened back in the angsty days of high school musings). I’ve been reading a book (for a day now) called Notes From the Tilt-a-Whirl, and it is this illuminating and refreshing, whimsical and weighty work of philosophy and apologetics and poetry in prose. But more on that later when I’ve finished the book and can give a full critique. In the meantime, I fell into a nap after reading it this evening, and I woke up composing poetry in my head. I jumped up, grabbed the computer, and connected head to hands and started typing. This is what I ended up with, and this should give a picture (albeit fuzzy and incomplete) of how I feel during this strange, frustrating, and hope-filled long-distance engagement. Continue reading “Just As We Are”
“Beauty in Deformity”
Flawlessly the dissonant chords resonate–
rubbing and ringing.
The pain in the notes bearing
a crying, a caressing,
The rhythm alternating
while voices crescendo.
A sometimes echo reaches
from the depths of wretchedness,
sparks a light, illuminates, dazzles, grows to a blaze–
reverberates from the fleeting chaos,
rests on the notes past
and drips lovely peace.
Music is born from the belly of
And still in consumate tension,
Beautiful is the perfectly formed deformity. Continue reading “Beauty in Deformity”
Great snippet on the poetry of T.S. Eliot: The Rabbit Room — Who Then Devised the Torment? Love. Continue reading The Rabbit Room — Who Then Devised the Torment? Love.
GLORY be to God for dappled things— For skies of couple-colour as a brinded cow; For rose-moles all in stipple upon trout that swim; Fresh-firecoal chestnut-falls; finches’ wings; Landscape plotted and pieced—fold, fallow, and plough; And áll trádes, their gear and tackle and trim. All things counter, original, spare, strange; Whatever is fickle, freckled (who knows how?) With swift, slow; sweet, sour; adazzle, dim; He … Continue reading Pied Beauty