Hello Sir. It's Me...Margr...wait....

haha...


Now. On to serious business. It's been about a year and a half since I read a Wallace Stevens poem. As many of you know, Mr. Stevens gave me my life's motto (see: Man w/The Blue Guitar), so as my nose bleeds and my leg bleeds (two for one special....hold up...)

..............if I may pause here to mini-rant. This one is for you muffin, future psychiatrist (psychologist?...we need to talk about that lol) *ahem* (*in Bill Nye voice*): Do you think it is possible for a person to justify an emotional pain through physical pain, even if indirectly? We'll talk soon. Where was I? Oh...

and my mind wanders to something I have to deal with eventually, I owe to ol' Wally to give him first shot to provide perspective. This is me revisiting a few poems, snatching some sections I relate to in my own way at this moment, and tossin em at you all. Obviously I won't be explaining the meanings to you (a. Mr. Stevens would come back to life and slap me haha and b. Its me?) Let's dance shall we?


1

"Will say of the mansion that it seems

As if he that lived there left behind

A spirit storming in blank walls,

A dirty house in a gutted world,

A tatter of shadows peaked to white,

Smeared with the gold of the opulent sun."
- A Postcard From the Volcano

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2

"Opusculum paedagogum.

The pears are not viols,

Nudes or bottles.

They resemble nothing else. "
-Study of Two Pears

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3

"Of the two dreams, night and day,

What lover, what dreamer, would choose

The one obscured by sleep?

Here is the plantain by your door

And the best cock of red feather

That crew before the clocks."
-Hymn from a Watermelon
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4

II

"I was of three minds,

Like a tree

In which there are three blackbirds.

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III

The blackbird whirled in the autumn winds.

It was a small part of the pantomime.

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IV

A man and a woman

Are one.

A man and a woman and a blackbird

Are one.
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V

I do not know which to prefer,

The beauty of inflections

Or the beauty of innuendoes,

The blackbird whistling

Or just after.
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VIII

I know noble accents

And lucid, inescapable rhythms;

But I know, too,

That the blackbird is involved

In what I know.
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XI

He rode over Connecticut

In a glass coach.

Once, a fear pierced him,

In that he mistook

The shadow of his equipage

For blackbirds. "
-Thirteen Ways of Looking At a Blackbird




To be continued?