Untitled

How many sunrises have you watched in your finite life?
How many minutes have you spent by waterfalls?
Women are born with all their eggs, and lose them.
The Wampanoag were the people of the first light,
until they were pushed back into the darkness
by the people who came out of the light.

Immediately after birth, we begin the process of losing things.
Every night we must learn not to grieve over some chance we missed.
Every morning, we must learn to accept that we didn’t have better dreams.
There is orange blooming on the horizon. Are you honoring your life
by standing silent and patient before it as often as you can until death,
like the pilgrims, appears in front of it, and takes it from you forever?

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4 thoughts on “Untitled

  1. Is this an example of a “carpe diem” poem? An interesting point is I think that every carpe diem poem suggests a different source of pleasure or happiness. It is difficult to discuss the value of the source since it is different for each person. In that case how can we define it? Is standing in front of a sunset equal to making love …cf the French poet Ronsard who compares the woman to a flower which will quickly wither and die? He tells her to hurry up and make love with him before it’s too late!!

    I met someone today who said he never said “to make love”……..only to “have sex” or some other similar expressions. I was horrified!! Is this a generation thing?

    • It is a carpe diem poem, although, unbelievably, I didn’t realize that until you said it.

      I read in Nicholson Baker’s The Anthologist, that “pluck” is a better translation for carpe than “seize.” So, pluck the day. That’s a good approximation of what I was trying to get at here. [That and also something about the injustice of what happened to the Native Americans, which bothers me endlessly, but that’s a little more complicated.]

      Do you really think every carpe diem poem is different? Surely intimacy must be at the top of everyone’s list.

      I don’t think my generation “makes love” much. We mostly have sex. Is that so bad? Often, we love the people with whom we’re having sex. Sometimes, we neither care, nor really even think, about them – which, I guess, has its own special appeal.

      And no: sunsets, fantastically awesome as they are, are not better than having sex. Nothing is. [Ronsard would agree, no? If not, why even bother talking to the woman?]

      • Appeal? “to have sex” without love? The few experiences I’ve had like that left me with a very bad taste…………so I never do that anymore!

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