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 Nov 2012 RL
W. H. Auden
I
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 crêpe 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.

II
O the valley in the summer where I and my John
Beside the deep river would walk on and on
While the flowers at our feet and the birds up above
Argued so sweetly on reciprocal love,
And I leaned on his shoulder; 'O Johnny, let's play':
But he frowned like thunder and he went away.
O that Friday near Christmas as I well recall
When we went to the Charity Matinee Ball,
The floor was so smooth and the band was so loud
And Johnny so handsome I felt so proud;
'Squeeze me tighter, dear Johnny, let's dance till it's day':
But he frowned like thunder and he went away.
Shall I ever forget at the Grand Opera
When music poured out of each wonderful star?
Diamonds and pearls they hung dazzling down
Over each silver and golden silk gown;
'O John I'm in heaven,' I whispered to say:
But he frowned like thunder and he went away.
O but he was fair as a garden in flower,
As slender and tall as the great Eiffel Tower,
When the waltz throbbed out on the long promenade
O his eyes and his smile they went straight to my heart;
'O marry me, Johnny, I'll love and obey':
But he frowned like thunder and he went away.
O last night I dreamed of you, Johnny, my lover,
You'd the sun on one arm and the moon on the other,
The sea it was blue and the grass it was green,
Every star rattled a round tambourine;
Ten thousand miles deep in a pit there I lay:
But you frowned like thunder and you went away.
 Nov 2012 RL
Mermaid
Scarlet Red~
 Nov 2012 RL
Mermaid
your beautiful lips

continue to whisper -

there, where the

moon river flows..

- You killed me?

- Forgive me, my love!

- Your hands are

in blood of my heart.

- They'll be washed

when the rain starts.

I loved you! - you screamed

Little scarlet red stream

ran down on my cheek

in the gleam of my

d r e a m.

no♥r ~
 Nov 2012 RL
Hilda
Untitled
 Nov 2012 RL
Hilda
Christ has no hands but our hands
To do His work today;
He has no tongue but our tongues
To tell men how He died;
He has no help but our help
To bring them to His side.

We are the Lord's best message
Giving in deed and word-
We must live alone to gladden
Prayer for this will undergird.

**-Author Unknown-
November 27, 2012
 Nov 2012 RL
Sylvia Plath
I have no wit, I have no words, no tears;
My heart within me like a stone
Is numbed too much for hopes or fears;
Look right, look left, I dwell alone;
A lift mine eyes, but dimmed with grief
No everlasting hills I see;
My life is like the falling leaf;
O Jesus, quicken me.
 Nov 2012 RL
AW
Reckless Abandon
 Nov 2012 RL
AW
Against better judgment, I forget
How the sun casts her shadow
On roads that unroll themselves
As minefields full of expectation
I find my pleasure in disaster that
Draws near when I laugh at it
Blowing caution to the wind
Of change behind me
Translation of my dutch poem 'Roekeloos'. Because of this, it misses a twist in the last two sentences, but the english title makes up for it as there is no real translation of 'reckless abandon' in dutch.
 Nov 2012 RL
TDN
A thin, glistening sleeve of rime
refracted the rays of sunrise light
into a bright and shiny morning.

I stood tall amongst the resonance of the
distant hymn of birds,
trying to conceal my
quivering knees.
I took a breath of
the anticipation in the air -
the breeze preparing itself for
the coldest season of the year.

I'm in motion now,
realizing that time goes on,
but unable to comprehend that
time is going right now.

Yet I have my Compass
and I have my Map.
I will sing melodies of hope
for the wind of Winter to carry away.

For I am convinced that
the distant hymn of birds
is the melody of hope
you, too, sing into the wind.

— The End —