Poetry Pt. 2

Front 1

Sonnet 43 Octave

Back 1

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways!

I love thee to the depth and breadth and height

My soul can reach, when feeling out of sight

For the ends of Being and Ideal Grace.

I love thee to the level of everyday's

Most quiet need, by sun and candlelight -

I love thee freely, as men strive for Right, -

I love thee purely, as they turn from Praise;

Front 2

Sonnet 43 Sestet

Back 2

I love thee with the passion, put to use

In my old griefs, ... and with my childhood's faith:

I love thee with the love I seemed to lose

With my lost Saints, - I love thee with the breath,

Smiles, tears, of all my life! - and, if God choose,

I shall but love thee better after death.

Front 3

MLD Lines 1-15

Back 3

That's my last duchess painted on the wall,

Looking as if she were alive. I call

That piece a wonder, now: Frà Pandolf's hands

Worked busily a day, and there she stands.

Will't please you sit and look at her? I said

'Frà Pandolf' by design, for never read

Strangers like you that pictured countenance,

The depth and passion of its earnest glance,

But to myself they turned (since none puts by

The curtain I have drawn for you, but I)

And seemed as they would ask me, if they durst,

How such a glance came there; so, not the first

Are you to turn and ask thus. Sir, 'twas not

Her husband's presence only, called that spot

Of joy into the Duchess' cheek: perhaps

Frà Pandolf chanced to say 'Her mantle laps

Front 4

MLD 16-30

Back 4

Over my lady's wrist too much,' or 'Paint

Must never hope the reproduce the faint

Half-flush that dies along her throat': such stuff

Was courtesy, she thought, and cause enough

For calling up that spot of joy. She had

A heart - how shall I say? Too soon made glad,

Too easily impressed; she liked whate'er

She looked on, and her looks went everywhere.

Sir, 'twas all one! My favour at her breast,

The dropping of the daylight in the West,

The bough of cherries some officious fool

Broke into the orchard for her, the white mule

She rode with round the terrace - all and each

Would draw from her alike the approving speech;

Front 5

MLD 31-45

Back 5

Or blush, at least. She thanked men - good! but thanked

Somehow - I know now how - as if she ranked

My gift of a nine-hundred-years-old name

With anybody's gift. Who'd stoop to blame

This sort of trifling? Even had you skill

In speech - which I have not - to make your will

Quite clear to such a one, and say, 'Just this

Or that in you disgusts me; here you miss,

Or there exceed the mark' -and if she let

Herself be lessoned so, not plainly set

Her wits to yours, forsooth, and made excuse

- E'en then would you be stooping; and I choose

Never to stoop. Oh sir, she smiled, no doubt

Whene'er I passed her; but who passed without

Much the same smile? This grew; I gave commands;

Front 6

MLD 46-55

Back 6

Then all smiles stopped together. There she stands

As if alive. Will't please you rise? We'll meet

The company below, then. I repeat,

The Count your master's known munificence

Is male warrant that no just pretense

Of mine for dowry will be disallowed;

Though his fair daughter's self, as I avowed

At starting, is my object. Nay, we'll go

Together down, sir. Notice Neptune, though,

Taming a sea-horse, though a rarity,

Which Claus of Innsbruck cast in bronze for me!

Front 7

1st Date She Stanzas 1-2

Back 7

I said I liked classical music.

It wasn't exactly a lie.

I hoped he would get the impression

That my brow was acceptably high.

I said I liked classical music.

I mentioned Vivaldi and Bach.

And he asked me along to this concert.

Here we are, sitting in the half-dark.

Front 8

1st Date She Stanzas 3-4

Back 8

I was thrilled to be asked to the concert.

I couldn't care less what they play

But I'm trying my hardest to listen

So I'll have something clever to say.

I glance at his face it's a picture

Of rapt concentration. I see

He is totally into this music

And quite undistracted by me

Front 9

1st Date He Stanzas 1-2

Back 9

She said she liked classical music.

I implied I was keen on it too.

Though I don't often go to a concert,

It wasn't entirely untrue.

I looked for a suitable concert

And here we are, on our first date

The traffic was dreadful this evening

And I arrived ten minutes late.

Front 10

1st Date He Stanzas 3-5

Back 10

So we haven't had much time for talking

And I'm a bit nervous. I see

She is totally lost in the music

And quite undistracted by me.

In that dress she is very attractive -

The neckline can't fail to intrigue.

I mustn't appear too besotted.

Perhaps she is out of my league.

Where are we? I glance at the programme

But I've put my glasses away.

I'd better start paying attention

Or else I'll have nothing to say.

Front 11

Valentine Stanzas 1-4

Back 11

Not a red rose or a satin heart.

I give you an onion.

It is a moon wrapped in brown paper.

It promises light

like the careful undressing of love.

Here.

It will blind you with tears

like a lover.

It will make your reflection

a wobbling photo of grief.

I am trying to be truthful.

Front 12

Valentine Stanzas 5-7

Back 12

Not a cute card or a kissogram

I give you an onion.

Its fierce kiss will stay on your lips,

possessive and faithful

as we are,

for as long as we are.

Take it.

Its platinum loops shrink to a wedding-ring,

if you like.

Lethal.

Its scent will cling to your fingers,

cling to your knife.

Front 13

One Flesh Stanza 1

Back 13

Lying apart now, each in a separate bed,

He with a book, keeping the light on late,

She like a girl dreaming of childhood,

All men elsewhere - it is as if they wait

Some new event: the book he holds unread,

Her eyes fixed on the shadows overhead.

Front 14

One Flesh Stanza 2

Back 14

Tossed up like flotsam from a former passion,

How cool they lie. They hardly ever touch,

Or if they do it is like a confession

Of having little feeling - or too much.

Chastity faces them, a destination

For which their whole lives were a preparation.

Front 15

One Flesh Stanza 3

Back 15

Strangely apart, yet strangely close together,

Silence between them like a thread to hold

And not wind in. And time itself's a feather

Touching them gently. Do they know they're old,

These two who are my father and my mother

From whose fire from which I came, has now grown cold?