681. Grief
I TELL you, hopeless grief is passionless;
That only men incredulous of despair,
Half-taught in anguish, through the midnight air
Beat upward to God's throne in loud access
Of shrieking and reproach. Full desertness 5
In souls as countries lieth silent-bare
Under the blanching, vertical eye-glare
Of the absolute Heavens. Deep-hearted man, express
Grief for thy Dead in silence like to death--
Most like a monumental statue set 10
In everlasting watch and moveless woe
Till itself crumble to the dust beneath.
Touch it; the marble eyelids are not wet:
If it could weep, it could arise and go.
E.Browning
DEAD!
here's much to do with hate but more with love,
but love did prove too tyrannous and rough.
imagine how her rosy fingers stroked
his cheek then rested on his soft, slack lips.
oh, lovey-dovey, kissee-kissee..... DEAD!.... DEAD!.... DEAD!
and now the cold, gray dugs of heaven sag
and weep their sallow froth. back foolish tears!
back to your native spring! this hopeless grief
is passionless, begot of nothing but
vain fantasy where nothing changes but
the bitter saw of old and tired men.
we have a certain moving function here:
grief for the dead in silence like to death.
love is not kind. death is the end of all.
we have a certain moving function here
the bitter saw of old and tired men
IT IS RATHER INTERESTING THAT MY WEBSITE FOR THESE SPECIFIC BLOG DATES PICKS UP MANY HITS COORDINATED WITH THE END OF A SCHOOL SEMESTER AND THAT THESE PARTICULAR DATES DEAL WITH ROMEO AND JULIET. I AM CERTAINLY FLATTERED IF SOMEONE IS USING ME AS A SOURCE OF INFORMATION OR INSPIRATION, BUT DISAPPOINTED IF STUDENTS CAN DO NO BETTER THAN STEAL FROM ME AND CLAIM THE WORK AS THEIR OWN. IT SHOWS A LACK OF IMAGINATION AND DEPTH. THERE ARE BETTER POETS TO STEAL FROM. -C. DAHLEN-