Thursday, February 18, 2010

(sounds like dirt)

this bitter earth
well, what fruit it bears

and if my life
is like the dust
that hides the glow of a rose

what good am i
heaven only knows

yes can be so cold
today you are young
too soon you are old
but while a voice within me cries
i'm sure someone may answer my call

and this bitter earth
may not be so bitter after all

what good is love
that no-one shares
and if my life is like the dust
that hides the glow of a rose
what good am i
heaven only knows


the glow of a rose
under so many lids
can be so cold

joy of being
what kind of beings are they then
o shooting star
of a rose
while a voice
or an unfinished song

i live my life in widening rings
earth and sky
for they were riverbeds once
and in their sweetness
wander anywhere
i cannot name it

chamber of my heart
weeping too, perhaps
always both
how he loved and yet
depths bend toward you
heavens of lavished stars

the face that is dissolved
empty space, alone
god leapt out
from a motionless cloud

empty at last
landscape of her sorrow
and when she weeps
oh heavy with weeping

(various roses from rainer maria collected while listening to the bitter earth)


Aaron Billings said...

did you write this? It's very good, very rhythmic, almost like a chant.
I really love your blog by the way, it is a constant inspiration for me.

the art of memory said...

thanks aaron,
the second part is lines here and there from rilke poems, not my own.
just shifted and selected them.
beautiful stuff though.

Aaron Billings said...

ahh rilke, it does have that sort of visceral feeling to it. I've been reading a lot of Margret Atwood lately, do you like her.

Also I recently set up an illustration blog

the art of memory said...

looks good.
i read the handmaid's tale in school.
visceral, good word for rilke
and dinah washington.

take care.

ace said...

meh the poem. the photo! sick. what it is?

the art of memory said...

hey brass knuckles, thanks for the comments, it is old many rilke. heavy grain. heavy fellow.