Time + Distance
The tea you pour is black and strong.
It doesn't taste like tea to me;
I must have been away too long.
Where's that old fork with the bent prong?
What happened to the hemlock tree?
Have I really been gone that long?
I think I hear the saddest song;
It has no words, no tune, no key.
The tea you pour is black and strong.
You're careful to say nothing wrong,
You seem too eager to agree.....
Yes, I've been traveling far and long,
And now it's clear, I don't belong.
I watch you sash your robe, as we
sit, sipping tea that's black and strong.
I went away too far, too long.
by Leslie Monsour, from The Alarming Beauty of the Sky.
6 comments:
Wow, this is so full of longing. I really enjoyed this poem--thanks for sharing this!
Adore this! And love that the poem revolves around tea, in the same way that Jacques Prevert used coffee in his ode to love and loss, "Dejeuner de Matin", which I'm sure you must know (it's easily Googled.) This is my favorite poem in a long, long time. xx
Adore this! And love that the poem revolves around tea, in the same way that Jacques Prevert used coffee in his ode to love and loss, "Dejeuner de Matin", which I'm sure you must know (it's easily Googled.) This is my favorite poem in a long, long time. xx
The Storialist: Isn't it beautiful? I love this poem - its so sad but with a certain tension.
Lisa: I thought it would be right up your alley. I love Jacques Prevert's poem - thank you for reminding me about it. I must go and immerse myself in that. xox
I think that form is called a vilanelle. Here's another one I like, by Sylvia Plath:
"Mad Girl's Love Song"
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;
I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)
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