JAMIE’S PLACE FOR STUFF

A Stroll Though Memory, Time and Politics With Stops Along The Way

Month: March 2016

  • World Poetry Day

    Walcott

    Derek Walcott

    This is a rapid write, so I shall just honor another of my favorite poets with his Poems:

    Love After Love

    The time will come
    when, with elation
    you will greet yourself arriving
    at your own door, in your own mirror
    and each will smile at the other’s welcome,

    and say, sit here. Eat.
    You will love again the stranger who was your self.
    Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
    to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

    all your life, whom you ignored
    for another, who knows you by heart.
    Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

    the photographs, the desperate notes,
    peel your own image from the mirror.
    Sit. Feast on your life.”
    Derek Walcott, Collected Poems, 1948-1984

    Another Life

    “But drunkenly, or secretly, we swore,
    Disciples of that astigmatic saint,
    That we would never leave the island
    Until we had put down, in paint, in words,
    As palmists learn the network of a hand,
    All of its sunken, leaf-choked ravines,
    Every neglected, self-pitying inlet
    Muttering in brackish dialect, the ropes of mangroves
    From which old soldier crabs slipped
    Surrendering to slush,
    Each ochre track seeking some hilltop and
    Losing itself in an unfinished phrase,
    Under sand shipyards where the burnt-out palms
    Inverted the design of unrigged schooners,
    Entering forests, boiling with life,
    Goyave, corrosol, bois-canot, sapotille.
    Days!

    The sun drumming, drumming,
    Past the defeated pennons of the palms,
    Roads limp from sunstroke,
    Past green flutes of the grass
    The ocean cannonading, come!
    Wonder that opened like the fan
    Of the dividing fronds
    On some noon-struck sahara,
    Where my heart from its rib cage yelped like a pup
    After clouds of sanderlings rustily wheeling
    The world on its ancient,
    Invisible axis,
    The breakers slow-dolphining over more breakers,
    To swivel our easels down, as firm
    As conquerors who had discovered home.”
    Derek Walcott, Another Life: Fully Annotated