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poem for no good reason other than that makes me cry irrationally - 1370°C

Jul. 3rd, 2005

10:49 pm - poem for no good reason other than that makes me cry irrationally

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or for _goodmanbrown_ who hates non-limerick poetry:

a little

I can feel the tug
of the halter at the nape
of her neck, the wind
on her naked front.

It blows her nipples
into amber beads,
it shakes the frail rigging
of her ribs.

I can see her drowned
body in the bog,
the weighing stone,
the floating rods and boughs.

Under which at first
she was a barked sapling
that is dug up
oak-bone, brain-firkin...

My poor scapegoat,

I almost love you
but would have cast, I know,
the stones of silence.
I am the artful voyeur

of your brain's exposed
and darkened combs
your muscles' webbing
and all your numbered bones:

I who have stood dumb
when your betraying sisters,
cauled in tar,
wept by the railings,

who would connive
in civilised outrage
yet understand the exact
and tribal, intimate revenge.


[User Picture]
Date:July 3rd, 2005 03:01 pm (UTC)

that's really great...
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[User Picture]
Date:July 3rd, 2005 03:08 pm (UTC)
Seamus Heaney is amazing. most of his poems end up being about the conflict in Northern Ireland in one way or another. but something about this one...the "exact and tribal, intimate revenge" just breaks me.
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