Saturday Poetry
OK, after the last three days of serious, personal family stuff, mostly written by someone else, I’ve decided to lighten things up a bit, and bring you a poem today, also written by someone else. Who knows, maybe this will become a Saturday tradition, a poem that I love but did not write.
no man,if men are gods;but if gods must
be men,the sometimes only man is this
(most common,for each anguish is his grief;
and,for his joy is more than joy,most rare)a fiend;if fiends speak truth;if angels burn
by their own generous completely light,
an angel;or(as various worlds he’ll spurn
rather than fail immersurable fate)
coward,clown,traitor, idiot,dreamer,beast-such was a poet and shall be and is
-who’ll solve the depths of horror to defend
a sunbeam’s architecture with his life:
and carve immortal jungles of despair
to hold a mountain’s heartbeat in his hande e cummings
Someday I’ll tell you about the amazing man who introduced me to this poem…my High School Latin/Composition teacher, Bob Hanlon.