Nothing Lasts Forever They told him "Nothing lasts forever" So Nothing's what he left to find, He filled his heart with quiet cobwebs And pushed the thoughts out from his mind. Dropped all the things that ever hurt him Then dropped the things he cared for too, For they say "Nothing's worth the pain" And pain was all he ever knew. He picked bouquets of silence, Wore the shadows as a coat, Then used their inky darkness When on the empty air he wrote: "My whole life I've chased Nothing, For it I have Nothing to show. I've got Nothing in my heart And there is Nothing that I know, But I'd give Everything for Something That could erase what I'd been told, For emptiness is the heaviest thing I've ever had to hold." ~Erin Hanson
The Coin by Sara Teasdale Into my heart’s treasury I slipped a coin That time cannot take Nor a thief purloin, Oh better than the minting Of a gold-crowned king Is the safe-kept memory Of a lovely thing.
"Rain Light" by W.S. Merwin All day the stars watch from long ago my mother said I am going now when you are alone you will be all right whether or not you know you will know look at the old house in the dawn rain all the flowers are forms of water the sun reminds them through a white cloud touches the patchwork spread on the hill the washed colors of the afterlife that lived there long before you were born see how they wake without a question even though the whole world is burning
Love Sonnet XI I crave your mouth, your voice, your hair. Silent and starving, I prowl through the streets. Bread does not nourish me, dawn disrupts me, all day I hunt for the liquid measure of your steps. I hunger for your sleek laugh, your hands the color of a savage harvest, hunger for the pale stones of your fingernails, I want to eat your skin like a whole almond. I want to eat the sunbeam flaring in your lovely body, the sovereign nose of your arrogant face, I want to eat the fleeting shade of your lashes, and I pace around hungry, sniffing the twilight, hunting for you, for your hot heart, like a puma in the barrens of Quitratue. ~Pablo Neruda
I Am Vertical By Sylvia Plath But I would rather be horizontal. I am not a tree with my root in the soil Sucking up minerals and motherly love So that each March I may gleam into leaf, Nor am I the beauty of a garden bed Attracting my share of Ahs and spectacularly painted, Unknowing I must soon unpetal. Compared with me, a tree is immortal And a flower-head not tall, but more startling, And I want the one's longevity and the other's daring. Tonight, in the infinitesimal light of the stars, The trees and the flowers have been strewing their cool odors. I walk among them, but none of them are noticing. Sometimes I think that when I am sleeping I must most perfectly resemble them -- Thoughts gone dim. It is more natural to me, lying down. Then the sky and I are in open conversation, And I shall be useful when I lie down finally: Then the trees may touch me for once, and the flowers have time for me.