You brilliant Jew,
You bright particular chameleon, you
Regild a shabby fence.
They understood
Your stripes and particolored mind, who could
Begrudge you prominence
And call you cold!
But when has prejudice been glad to hold
A lizard in its hand—
A subtle thing?
To sense fed on a fine imagining,
Sound sense is contraband.
By Marianne Moore (more…)
By Marianne Moore (more…)
If yellow betokens infidelity,
I am an infidel.
I could not bear a yellow rose ill will
Because books said that yellow boded ill,
White promised well;
However, your particular possession-
The sense of privacy
In what you did-deflects from your estate
Offending eyes, and will not tolerate
Effrontery.
By Marianne Moore (more…)
You suit me well, for you can make me laugh,
nor are you blinded by the chaff
that every wind sends spinning from the rick.
You know to think, and what you think you speak
with much of Samson’s pride and bleak
finality, and none dare bid you stop.
Pride sits you well, so strut, colossal bird.
No barnyard makes you look absurd;
your brazen claws are staunch against defeat.
By Marianne Moore
Three years ago I wrote here that I would dedicate myself more to this website, to this blog. Three years ago was also the last time I wrote a blog post here, or anywhere now that I come to think of it. I could blame disability or schooling or general life, and I’d have some pretty reasonable points. But I also could have focused myself and prioritised. I didn’t.
(more…)
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