Guest poem submitted by Lakshmi Jagad:
(Poem #1768) Threnody
Lilacs blossom just as sweet Now my heart is shattered. If I bowled it down the street, Who's to say it mattered? If there's one that rode away What would I be missing? Lips that taste of tears, they say, Are the best for kissing. Eyes that watch the morning star Seem a little brighter; Arms held out to darkness are Usually whiter. Shall I bar the strolling guest, Bind my brow with willow, When, they say, the empty breast Is the softer pillow? That a heart falls tinkling down, Never think it ceases. Every likely lad in town Gathers up the pieces. If there's one gone whistling by Would I let it grieve me? Let him wonder if I lie; Let him half believe me.
I was introduced to Dorothy Parker and her wonderfully sassy works courtesy the Minstrels. I always thought that her works were reminiscent of mischief, cocky charm and a whole lot of free-spirited impishness. So you can imagine how surprised I was when someone sent me this poem. It is so uncharacteristic of her style or maybe that's my relative inexperience speaking. But there is such a heart-broken feel to this one... One of my favourite lines is 'Lips that taste of tears, they say, are the best for kissing'. Picturesque, pensive and very imaginative, for lack of better adjectives, this poem is a favourite, even though, it appears somewhat alien to Parker. Lakshmi.