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85d040d
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The Something" Here come my night thoughts On crutches, Returning from studying the heavens. What they thought about Stayed the same, Stayed immense and incomprehensible. My mother and father smile at each other Knowingly above the mantel. The cat sleeps on, the dog Growls in his sleep. The stove is cold and so is the bed. Now there are only these crutches To contend with. Go ahead and laugh, while I raise one With difficulty, Swaying on th..
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Charles Simic |
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b7ae650
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This strange thing must have crept Right out of hell. It resembles a bird's foot Worn around the cannibal's neck. As you hold it in your hand, As you stab with it into a piece of meat, It is possible to imagine the rest of the bird:
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Charles Simic |
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f8d6bbd
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Immigration, exile, being uprooted and made a pariah may be the most effective way yet devised to impress on an individual the arbitrary nature of his or her own existence. Who needed a shrink of a guru when everyone we met asked us who we were the moment we opned our mouths and they heard the accent? The truth is, we had no simple answers. Being rattled around in freight trains, open trucks, and ratty ocean-liners, we ended up being a puzz..
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identity
immigration
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Charles Simic |
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abd29e8
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Everyone vain, dull, peevish, and sexually frustrated dreams of legislating his impotence. Mao's uniforms: a billion people dressing the same and shouting from his little red book continues to be the secret hope of new visionaries.
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Charles Simic |
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1c1b9a7
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lbd 'n `dd s`t lyd ws`t lHwy'T lmwjwd@ lywm hw tHqyr ll'bdy@
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Charles Simic |
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1aca3fb
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klm kn lZlm fdH kn lGDb '`l~
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Charles Simic |
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ecc0a3a
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lHlm l'mryk~ ljdyd 'n tSbH f~ Gy@ lthr wynZr lyk `l~ lrGm mn dhlk bwSfk DHy@
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Charles Simic |
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7778b0b
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The Prodigal Dark morning rain Meant to fall On a prison and a schoolyard, Falling meanwhile On my mother and her old dog. How slow she shuffles now In my father's Sunday shoes. The dog by her side Trembling with each step As he tries to keep up. I am on another corner waiting With my head shaved. My mind hops like a sparrow In the rain. I'm always watching and worrying about her. Everything is a magic ritual, A secret cinema, The way..
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Charles Simic |
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a272a5f
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In the circle of yellow lamplight, These few roof-beams and columns Of what could be a Mogul Emperor's palace. The Prince chews his long nails, The Princess lowers her green eyelids. They both smoke too much, Never go to bed before daybreak.
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Charles Simic |
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b006753
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Most of the American films were made in southern California, so if you were in Europe, watching those palm trees swaying in the wind with someone like Rita Hayworth gliding underneath them in a white convertible, you got all kinds of wonderfully wrong ideas about the place.
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Charles Simic |
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44b3b90
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Once I knew, then I forgot. It was as if I had fallen asleep in a field only to discover at waking that a grove of trees had grown up around me. "Doubt nothing, believe everything," was my friend's idea of metaphysics, although his brother ran away with his wife. He still bought her a rose every day, sat in the empty house for the next twenty years talking to her about the weather. I was already dozing off in the shade, dreaming that the ..
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the-self
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Charles Simic |