Heartbroken

A Cloud withdrew from the Sky

895

A Cloud withdrew from the Sky
Superior Glory be
But that Cloud and its Auxiliaries
Are forever lost to me

Had I but further scanned
Had I secured the Glow
In an Hermetic Memory
It had availed me now.

Never to pass the Angel
With a glance and a Bow
Till I am firm in Heaven
Is my intention now.

Emily Dickinson
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My heart is broken tonight.  I cannot imagine what the families are experiencing in Connecticut.  I keep thinking about those poor babies and the terror they must have felt.  As a teacher, I keep thinking what would I do if I were in that situation.  It seems no matter how safe we think we are, these horrible evils keep happening.  Does this happen in other countries?  Do we just not hear about it? Or is this just our country floundering and sinking into an evil despair?
The media wants to make some kind of sense of this massacre, but really even if they do figure out why he did this, it really will not help.  Why would someone do something like this?  Evil does not even start to describe it.
My prayers go out…
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Holidays

The holidays are here.  Thanksgiving came and went.  Now we only have two weeks until the children are off for Christmas.  I have so much to do so I’m making my lists tomorrow so I can start checking it off (which is absolutely the best part of making a list).

My apologies to my followers for my long absence!  Please forgive me.  This is a poem for the season and for all of my friends in the North who are getting a blizzard!

Snow-flakes

BY HENRY WADSWORTH LONGFELLOW

Out of the bosom of the Air,
      Out of the cloud-folds of her garments shaken,
Over the woodlands brown and bare,
      Over the harvest-fields forsaken,
            Silent, and soft, and slow
            Descends the snow.
Even as our cloudy fancies take
      Suddenly shape in some divine expression,
Even as the troubled heart doth make
      In the white countenance confession,
            The troubled sky reveals
            The grief it feels.
This is the poem of the air,
      Slowly in silent syllables recorded;
This is the secret of despair,
      Long in its cloudy bosom hoarded,
            Now whispered and revealed
            To wood and field.

Another Visit with Pablo

I came across this poem in research for the book I’m writing.  I thought it was amazing so I wanted to share it with you.  Enjoy.

Same Story

by Pablo Neruda

This evening, each hour, it grows earlier:

each splendor, each shadow,

each twilight, dawns anew on our world:

immovable time

masks

its exigent face

and changelessly changes its garment:

each night or in delicate daybreak

the long silence of glaciers,

summer’s reddening apple:

all is vagabond as the wind:

time idles, immobile,

hueless and heatless, sunless and starless:

nothing avails but the absolute

 Goodbye and goodbye. Nothing changes.

Poe on Halloween

On Halloween I thought I would share some Poe with you.  This is one of my favorite Poe poems.       I hope you like it.

A Dream Within a Dream

By Edgar Allan Poe

(published 1850)

Take this kiss upon the brow!
And, in parting from you now,
Thus much let me avow —
You are not wrong, who deem
That my days have been a dream;
Yet if hope has flown away
In a night, or in a day,
In a vision, or in none,
Is it therefore the less gone?
All that we see or seem
Is but a dream within a dream.

I stand amid the roar
Of a surf-tormented shore,
And I hold within my hand
Grains of the golden sand —
How few! yet how they creep
Through my fingers to the deep,
While I weep — while I weep!
O God! can I not grasp
Them with a tighter clasp?
O God! can I not save
One from the pitiless wave?
Is all that we see or seem
But a dream within a dream?

http://www.poemuseum.org

My Passion for Poe

Since I read Annabel Lee in Jr. High School, I have been an Edgar Alan Poe fan.  The more of his work I read the more I fell in love.  He was a master of symbolism, imagery and rhythm. So when I heard about the movie Raven that was about a serial killer who was imitating Poe’s short stories,  I was pretty excited.  I couldn’t wait to see it. (So I love John Cusack anyway.)  I really enjoyed the movie and I recommend you watch it if you haven’t seen it.

The Raven Poster

I love to use poetry as inspiration for my own writing.  So I thought I would share one of my favorite Poe Poems with you.  I hope you like it as much as I do.

Lots of Love from Louisiana!

Dreamland

By a route obscure and lonely,
Haunted by ill angels only,
Where an Eidolon, named NIGHT,
On a black throne reigns upright,
I have reached these lands but newly
From an ultimate dim Thule-
From a wild clime that lieth, sublime,
Out of SPACE- out of TIME.

Bottomless vales and boundless floods,
And chasms, and caves, and Titan woods,
With forms that no man can discover
For the tears that drip all over;
Mountains toppling evermore
Into seas without a shore;
Seas that restlessly aspire,
Surging, unto skies of fire;
Lakes that endlessly outspread
Their lone waters- lone and dead,-
Their still waters- still and chilly
With the snows of the lolling lily.

By the lakes that thus outspread
Their lone waters, lone and dead,-
Their sad waters, sad and chilly
With the snows of the lolling lily,-
By the mountains- near the river
Murmuring lowly, murmuring ever,-
By the grey woods,- by the swamp
Where the toad and the newt encamp-
By the dismal tarns and pools
Where dwell the Ghouls,-
By each spot the most unholy-
In each nook most melancholy-
There the traveller meets aghast
Sheeted Memories of the Past-
Shrouded forms that start and sigh
As they pass the wanderer by-
White-robed forms of friends long given,
In agony, to the Earth- and Heaven.

For the heart whose woes are legion
‘Tis a peaceful, soothing region-
For the spirit that walks in shadow
‘Tis- oh, ’tis an Eldorado!
But the traveller, travelling through it,
May not- dare not openly view it!
Never its mysteries are exposed
To the weak human eye unclosed;
So wills its King, who hath forbid
The uplifting of the fringed lid;
And thus the sad Soul that here passes
Beholds it but through darkened glasses.

By a route obscure and lonely,
Haunted by ill angels only,
Where an Eidolon, named NIGHT,
On a black throne reigns upright,
I have wandered home but newly
From this ultimate dim Thule.

Edgar Allan Poe

My Friend Pablo

When one of my beloved cousins passed away, I inherited his library of amazing books.  In those books were several Pablo Neruda’s.  They increased my appreciation of his works tremendously.  His writing is so passionate.  I decided to share one of my favorites of his poetry.  I hope you like it as much as I do.

If You Forget Me

I want you to know
one thing.

You know how this is:
if I look
at the crystal moon, at the red branch
of the slow autumn at my window,
if I touch
near the fire
the impalpable ash
or the wrinkled body of the log,
everything carries me to you,
as if everything that exists,
aromas, light, metals,
were little boats
that sail
toward those isles of yours that wait for me.

Well, now,
if little by little you stop loving me
I shall stop loving you little by little.

If suddenly
you forget me
do not look for me,
for I shall already have forgotten you.

If you think it long and mad,
the wind of banners
that passes through my life,
and you decide
to leave me at the shore
of the heart where I have roots,
remember
that on that day,
at that hour,
I shall lift my arms
and my roots will set off
to seek another land.

But
if each day,
each hour,
you feel that you are destined for me
with implacable sweetness,
if each day a flower
climbs up to your lips to seek me,
ah my love, ah my own,
in me all that fire is repeated,
in me nothing is extinguished or forgotten,
my love feeds on your love, beloved,
and as long as you live it will be in your arms
without leaving mine.

Pablo Neruda