Subscribe: by Email | in Reader
Showing posts with label Submitted by: Linda Roberts. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Submitted by: Linda Roberts. Show all posts

And Death Shall Have No Dominion -- Dylan Thomas

Guest poem sent in by Linda Roberts
(Poem #1486) And Death Shall Have No Dominion
 And death shall have no dominion.
 Dead men naked they shall be one
 With the man in the wind and the west moon;
 When their bones are picked clean and the clean bones gone,
 They shall have stars at elbow and foot;
 Though they go mad they shall be sane,
 Though they sink through the sea they shall rise again;
 Though lovers be lost love shall not;
 And death shall have no dominion.

 And death shall have no dominion.
 Under the windings of the sea
 They lying long shall not die windily;
 Twisting on racks when sinews give way,
 Strapped to a wheel, yet they shall not break;
 Faith in their hands shall snap in two,
 And the unicorn evils run them through;
 Split all ends up they shan't crack;
 And death shall have no dominion.

 And death shall have no dominion.
 No more may gulls cry at their ears
 Or waves break loud on the seashores;
 Where blew a flower may a flower no more
 Lift its head to the blows of the rain;
 Though they be mad and dead as nails,
 Heads of the characters hammer through daisies;
 Break in the sun till the sun breaks down,
 And death shall have no dominion.
-- Dylan Thomas
I checked the archives for this poem and was rather surprised not to find
it. I find it interesting, not only as one of that subset of poems that defy
death, much like Donne's "Death be not proud" (Poem #796) but also for the
interesting form used. It's not a villanelle or a rondeau. I'll admit my
ignorance and ask that if someone knows the name of this form I'd like to
learn it.

As a recent widow I find myself remembering odd bits of poetry dealing with
death. While this may sound morbid, I usually find it fairly comforting -
especially such lines as "though lovers be lost, love shall not."

Lollee

Ample Make This Bed -- Emily Dickinson

Guest poem sent in by Linda Roberts
(Poem #1337) Ample Make This Bed
 Ample make this bed.
 Make this bed with awe;
 In it wait till judgment break
 Excellent and fair.

 Be its mattress straight,
 Be its pillow round;
 Let no sunrise' yellow noise
 Interrupt this ground.
-- Emily Dickinson
(Complete Poems Part Four: Time and Eternity, LXIII)

After reading today's Emily Dickinson (Poem #1328) and reflecting on the
recent "poetry in the movies" thread, I thought of this poem, used to such
great effect in "Sophie's Choice" and especially touching to anyone like me
who's recently lost a loved one.

Graves are often compared to beds, and death to sleep, but Dickinson's
description seems especially poignant to me, since graves are frequently
described as narrow or deep, but "ample" seems both an unusual and apt term.

Linda