Derek Walcott
The fist clenched round my heart
loosens a little, and I gasp
brightness; but it tightens
again. When have I ever not loved
the pain of love? But this has moved
past love to mania. This has the strong
clench of the madman, this is
gripping the ledge of unreason, before
plunging howling into the abyss.
Hold hard then, heart. This way at least you live.
Sunday, April 27, 2008
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3 comments:
i tagged you for a 6 word memoir on my blog, to be posted wherever you feel is thematically or contextually appropriate.
6 word memoir
lo que es, nao es nada
whatever it is, it's not nothing.
Amy, Marie, Ethan ... I'll have to figure out some other bloggers later.
on the poem:
I'm not necessarily an advocate of psychosis, but I think the poem is pretty good.
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