Here we go again, another chance to decide which poem of mine sucks and should never be read by anyone, ever! These two seem to have a similar tone despite being written about 6 years apart. I like how they're both pretty quiet and measured - something contemporary poetry probably has more than enough of but I appreciate nonetheless. I prefer to read these out to myself with a very posh upper-crust British accent, sort of like Alfred in Tim Burton's "Batman" movies.
"This delicate dance we do"
Matt Quarterman
This delicate dance we do –
contrived, surely, the steps long set
(a pavanne perhaps, or a courtly step)
but the emotion shines through
in unexpected moments.
And there is still, as always,
some limited freedom in the moves.
The reverential hush dancers
hold their bodies in
is fitting for even such a
commonplace routine.
At its best, these exchanges
are proof enough of grace,
artificial courtesy keeps
violent transactions in their place.
As we brush past each other
with a nod and a bow,
these social graces may be
more than elegance
and give even these mundane exchanges
some hint, however removed,
of the holy.
No Other Way
Matt Quarterman
I had to do what I did
to get where I got.
I can’t say that I’m proud of it.
Pride is not what it’s about.
It’s what I had to do,
it went where it willed.
It’s not that I had no choice.
Choosing is not what it’s about.
I had to go, and I did
get what was to be had.
You might think it’s what was meant to be.
But it’s not about fate.
The going and having,
the doing and getting
can’t be about anything
besides what they’re about.
There’s just no other way to put it.
There’s just no other way.
No comments:
Post a Comment