#early poems

[majestativa]

We are alone in this terror, alone, […] you and I.

— William Carlos Williams, Early Poems, (1997)

[macrolit]

Empty Mirror and Howl Allen Ginsberg

[lonesome-dreamsss]

his handprint may be burned into your skin but it's still the gentlest touch you've ever received.

[m1nsur0]

[JTTW OC: 智平] “分桃” The Shared Peach

Originally an act of courtship, Wukong would always share a peach with the Violet Dragon, taking a single bite to ensure it was of high enough standard for him. No matter how many years pass, most mornings spent together begin with the Monkey King passing a peach with a bite taken out of it to his lover.

[liriostigre]

Mary Oliver, “Something.” Why I Wake Early

[silent-insanities]

I want all of my mornings to be with you.

[seraphinesaintclair]

“Tattered, Shining” by Seraphine Saintclair

[adventuresofalgy]

The following day was very much brighter, with some strong February sunshine, but also a stiff breeze. In fact the whole world seemed to be in motion, although this may have had something to do with the absence of a tripod 😀

And as Algy fluttered around the garden, he was surprised to see the very first daffodil flowers of the coming spring, for these were not the early, miniature daffodils which quite often flowered at the beginning of February, but full-sized varieties which did not normally appear until many weeks later in the year.

Perching happily on the grass to watch the beautiful nodding heads glowing in the sunshine, he was reminded of a poem written "to an early daffodil", for these were indeed certainly exceptionally early, but instead of spring being laggard, and the flowers catching the gold of an April sun, they were playing in the chilly wind of a bright early February day…

Thou yellow trumpeter of laggard Spring! Thou herald of rich Summer’s myriad flowers! The climbing sun with new recovered powers Does warm thee into being, through the ring Of rich, brown earth he woos thee, makes thee fling Thy green shoots up, inheriting the dowers Till ripe and blossoming thou art a thing To fill the lonely with a joy untold; Nodding at every gust of wind to-day, To-morrow jewelled with raindrops. Always bold To stand erect, full in the dazzling play Of April's sun, for thou hast caught his gold.

[Algy is quoting the poem To an Early Daffodil by the late 19th/early 20th century American poet Amy Lowell.]

[majestativa]

Must you taste everything? Must you know everything? Must you have a part in everything?

— William Carlos Williams, Early Poems, (1997)

[life-imitates-art-far-more]

John William Waterhouse (1849-1917) "The Lady Clare" (1900) Oil on canvas Pre-Raphaelite Currently in a private collection The painting is based on the poem "Lady Clare" (1842) by Alfred Lord Tennyson.

[finelythreadedsky]

 On one level the book is about the life of a woman who is hardly more than a token in a great epic poem, on another it’s about how history and context shape how we are seen, and the brief moment there is to act between the inescapable past and the unknowable future. Perhaps to write Lavinia Le Guin had to live long enough to see her own early books read in a different context from the one where they were written, and to think about what that means.

-Jo Walton

[sanddollarpoems]

I wish I had it in me to fly again.

These wings have become

more decorations than anything;

more like metaphors than useful things.

I wish I had it in me to fly again.

I miss soaring over the tree tops,

but I've become scared of heights,

and it's too dangerous to fly at night now.

But I wish I had it in me to fly again.

[trashraccoongirl]

[liriostigre]

Mary Oliver “Why I Wake Early.” Why I Wake Early

[thehartster-blog]

Going through the motions

[moon-kissed-corner]

Detail from the painting Le Cyclope "The Cyclops" (c. 1914), by Odilon Redon.