From this wee book, I’ve found an opportunity to elaborate on my week’s theme: Time. Or rather, I’m letting a couple of poets do it for me. Right now, I seem to be letting others do the heavy lifting on most of my other social media. I’ll elaborate on that some other day so that I can revel in the delight today’s post provides me. I hope it adds something good to your day, as well.
I’ve never been better prepared by my past interests and my theme for this page. I LITERALLY followed directions.
poem
what time is it? it is by every star
a different time, and each most falsely true;
or so subhuman superminds declare
— not all their times encompass me and you:
when we are never, but forever now
(hosts of eternity; not guests of seem)
believe me, dear, clocks have enough to do
without confusing timelessness and time.
Time cannot children, poets, lovers tell —
Measure imagine, mystery, a kiss
— not though mankind would rather know than feel:
mistrusting utterly that timelessness
whose absence would make your whole life and my
(and infinite our) merely to undie
And this beautiful one, for which I’ll provide the lyrics, but also a moving rendition you might have seen in the film Four Weddings and a Funeral. Interestingly, the original version of this poem was written to be performed on stage in a play.
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood;
For nothing now can ever come to any good.