x-posted to greatpoets

They're talking about villanelles. Who doesn't love a good villanelle?

The one I once tried valiantly to finish writing right was about insomnia, appropriately enough. Seemed like an appropriate subject for the form, too. Anyway, here's Marilyn's:

Villanelle for D.G.B.

Every day our bodies separate,
exploded torn and dazed.
Not understanding what we celebrate

we grope through languages and hesitate
and touch each other, speechless and amazed;
and every day our bodies separate

us farther from our planned, deliberate
ironic lives. I am afraid, disphased,
not understanding what we celebrate

when our fused limbs and lips communicate
the unlettered power we have raised.
Every day our bodies' separate

routines are harder to perpetuate.
In wordless darkness we learn wordless praise,
not understanding what we celebrate;

wake to ourselves, exhausted, in the late
morning as the wind tears off the haze,
not understanding how we celebrate
our bodies. Every day we separate.

-- Marilyn Hacker

x-posted to greatpoets

They're talking about villanelles. Who doesn't love a good villanelle?

The one I once tried valiantly to finish writing right was about insomnia, appropriately enough. Seemed like an appropriate subject for the form, too. Anyway, here's Marilyn's:

Villanelle for D.G.B.

Every day our bodies separate,
exploded torn and dazed.
Not understanding what we celebrate

we grope through languages and hesitate
and touch each other, speechless and amazed;
and every day our bodies separate

us farther from our planned, deliberate
ironic lives. I am afraid, disphased,
not understanding what we celebrate

when our fused limbs and lips communicate
the unlettered power we have raised.
Every day our bodies' separate

routines are harder to perpetuate.
In wordless darkness we learn wordless praise,
not understanding what we celebrate;

wake to ourselves, exhausted, in the late
morning as the wind tears off the haze,
not understanding how we celebrate
our bodies. Every day we separate.

-- Marilyn Hacker

So, yes, I bought myself a flashlight.

This is my new flashlight:    

Tonight I was thinking I might buy me a blanket. I've never bought myself a blanket. I've bought a lousy comforter, and gone in on a good one, but never a blanket. And I like blankets. I have several that are cast-off, hand-me-down, gifted or inherited, and one that was pilfered. "pilphered"? Wasn't me what swiped it, anyroad.

I was thinking I might buy me a blanket that I pick out for myself.

What else shall I think of buying me? And why? And so what?

I hate that mockingbird song. Always have. If you know the one I mean. It's supposed to be a lullaby, but even though it has a structural thing a child might tend to like, it sucks. I don't mind the grammar at all, but it's sing-songy in an annoying way, and the stuff mamma's gonna buy you & what goes wrong with it---that stuff's stupid. And the whole idea of it, that's the worst part. Not cuz it's capitalist, but cuz it's a lie.

I shall now say something cheerier so as not to end on that note.

"All misery and all happiness are of equal value." --Ajahn Sumedho

So, yes, I bought myself a flashlight.

This is my new flashlight:    

Tonight I was thinking I might buy me a blanket. I've never bought myself a blanket. I've bought a lousy comforter, and gone in on a good one, but never a blanket. And I like blankets. I have several that are cast-off, hand-me-down, gifted or inherited, and one that was pilfered. "pilphered"? Wasn't me what swiped it, anyroad.

I was thinking I might buy me a blanket that I pick out for myself.

What else shall I think of buying me? And why? And so what?

I hate that mockingbird song. Always have. If you know the one I mean. It's supposed to be a lullaby, but even though it has a structural thing a child might tend to like, it sucks. I don't mind the grammar at all, but it's sing-songy in an annoying way, and the stuff mamma's gonna buy you & what goes wrong with it---that stuff's stupid. And the whole idea of it, that's the worst part. Not cuz it's capitalist, but cuz it's a lie.

I shall now say something cheerier so as not to end on that note.

"All misery and all happiness are of equal value." --Ajahn Sumedho