'The English language
belongs to us. You are raking at dead fires,
rehearsing the old whinges at your age.
That subject people stuff is a cod’s game,
infantile, like this peasant pilgrimage.
You lose more of yourself than you redeem
doing the decent thing. Keep at a tangent.
When they make the circle wide, it's time to swim
out on your own and fill the element
with signatures on your own frequency,
echo soundings, searches, probes, allurements,
elver-gleams in the dark of the whole sea.'
—Seamus Heaney (in the voice of James Joyce), Station Island (1984)
Showing posts with label sea. Show all posts
Showing posts with label sea. Show all posts
6.10.2022
swim out
Labels:
english language,
heritage,
james joyce,
probes,
sea,
seamus heaney,
searches,
swim,
tangent
2.16.2013
unstable structure
The poem will always be that rickety rotting pier jutting out over an everdeepening sea of rushing white foam.
1.28.2010
1.22.2007
a tidepool
A poem should be like a tidepool: A small window of water filled with wondrous things, a flux of colors and textures, giving one a glimpse into the immensity of the sea.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)