Well, I just yelled, no, no, no! because I just accidently erased a comment that I spent about 20 minutes writing. It was about how a visit to a gas station today reminded me of the emotions that can accompany shootings. Fear, hatred, anger. The poem that came to mind after reading your piece was this Derek Walcott poem not because it relates to guns and shootings, but because it's the opposite of the kind of fear, hatred and anger that can be a part of shootings. Thank you for your essay and for the opportunity to share.
Love After Love
The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other's welcome,
and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
I wish I had my own poetry to share, but probably shouldn’t share the haikus I write during boring meetings. However, I am an appreciator. Here’s a good one to share:
I yelped when the actress woke up screaming. Your poem is introspective. They did a great film of it. And this essay is insightful and reflective as well. Thank you for sharing.
Well, I just yelled, no, no, no! because I just accidently erased a comment that I spent about 20 minutes writing. It was about how a visit to a gas station today reminded me of the emotions that can accompany shootings. Fear, hatred, anger. The poem that came to mind after reading your piece was this Derek Walcott poem not because it relates to guns and shootings, but because it's the opposite of the kind of fear, hatred and anger that can be a part of shootings. Thank you for your essay and for the opportunity to share.
Love After Love
The time will come
when, with elation
you will greet yourself arriving
at your own door, in your own mirror
and each will smile at the other's welcome,
and say, sit here. Eat.
You will love again the stranger who was your self.
Give wine. Give bread. Give back your heart
to itself, to the stranger who has loved you
all your life, whom you ignored
for another, who knows you by heart.
Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,
the photographs, the desperate notes,
peel your own image from the mirror.
Sit. Feast on your life.
I loved the short film of your poem, by the way.
I have to put this here beside the feathers: “I have but the power to kill, / Without - the power to die -“
My Life had stood - a Loaded Gun (764)
BY EMILY DICKINSON
My Life had stood - a Loaded Gun -
In Corners - till a Day
The Owner passed - identified -
And carried Me away -
And now We roam in Sovreign Woods -
And now We hunt the Doe -
And every time I speak for Him
The Mountains straight reply -
And do I smile, such cordial light
Opon the Valley glow -
It is as a Vesuvian face
Had let it’s pleasure through -
And when at Night - Our good Day done -
I guard My Master’s Head -
’Tis better than the Eider Duck’s
Deep Pillow - to have shared -
To foe of His - I’m deadly foe -
None stir the second time -
On whom I lay a Yellow Eye -
Or an emphatic Thumb -
Though I than He - may longer live
He longer must - than I -
For I have but the power to kill,
Without - the power to die -
Wow. Powerful essay, thank you.
I wish I had my own poetry to share, but probably shouldn’t share the haikus I write during boring meetings. However, I am an appreciator. Here’s a good one to share:
https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poems/57243/how-to-be-perfect
I yelped when the actress woke up screaming. Your poem is introspective. They did a great film of it. And this essay is insightful and reflective as well. Thank you for sharing.
I loved the poem in the film, and I liked the way they did it.