"
I met the Bishop on the road
And much said he and I.
‘Those breasts are flat and fallen now,
Those veins must soon be dry;
Live in a heavenly mansion,
Not in some foul sty.’
‘Fair and foul are near of kin,
And fair needs foul,’ I cried.
‘My friends are gone, but that’s a truth
Nor grave nor bed denied,
Learned in bodily lowliness
And in the heart’s pride.
‘A woman can be proud and stiff
When on love intent;
But Love has pitched his mansion in
The place of excrement;
For nothing can be sole or whole
That has not been rent.’
Crazy Jane Talks With The Bishop by William Butler Yeats
When I first found this poem a few days ago, I had no idea what it was about, but I enjoyed it because of the words and pictures. I looked it up and the meaning is actually quite interesting. You should do the same.
(via helianthus)
(Source: helianthuss)
Oh, Mary,
Am I your Doctor,
Trying to create
New life
From something
Already dead?
"
In the desert
I saw a creature, naked, bestial,
Who, squatting upon the ground,
Held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.
I said, “Is it good, friend?”
“It is bitter— bitter,” he answered;
“But I like it
“Because it is bitter,
“And because it is my heart.”
“In the Desert” by Stephen Crane
I saw your scars today,
And if I could mend them
With a kiss
My lips
Would never leave your arm.
My complication
Does not lie
In another’s inability
To love me,
But
In my inability
To love another.
404 Error
Page does not register
Come back later
If she doesn’t have a favorite poet
She isn’t worth it.
If it were up to me,
I’d fill this country with railroads
And make train tickets free.
If I could make it so,
I’d pack my bags
And follow whichever way the wind blows.
If I could make it true,
I’d get me one of those tickets,
And maybe you could come with, too.
Send me a poem
I miss your words.
