The Dark Humor of Life

This poem speaks for itself - for the experience and all the emotions of wonder, frustration, anger, and simultaneous disappointment and hope.

Ships That Pass in the Night

By: Paul Laurence Dunbar

 Out in the sky the great dark clouds are massing;

   I look far out into the pregnant night,

Where I can hear a solemn booming gun

   And catch the gleaming of a random light,

That tells me that the ship I seek is passing, passing.

My tearful eyes my soul’s deep hurt are glassing;

   For I would hail and check that ship of ships.

I stretch my hands imploring, cry aloud,

   My voice falls dead a foot from mine own lips,

And but its ghost doth reach that vessel, passing, passing.

O Earth, O Sky, O Ocean, both surpassing,

   O heart of mine, O soul that dreads the dark!

Is there no hope for me? Is there no way

   That I may sight and check that speeding bark

Which out of sight and sound is passing, passing?

Forget Bryon, Check out Bradstreet

I’m not one for super complex poetry because honestly even if I am able to arrive at an understanding of its meaning, I feel there is no true way to know what the author meant.

I remember my English teacher in high school for junior year was a real stickler for us simply soaking up and then spitting out her own interpretations of famous poems by Shakespeare, Yeats, Cummings, etc. and that always frustrated me.

For this reason, below is my favorite love poem of all time. 

Anne Bradstreet was the first woman to be recognized as poet in the New World. The above picture of her is rather woeful. It’s a picture of a painting of her at work. So maybe her expression is due to the long hours she had to sit for this painting to be rendered.

But moving along this poem is a bit Christian (which isn’t a negative thing necessarily), but to me it says all one would want to when pledging your undying love. I like how as a woman she doesn’t appear meek or too flowery. I feel this poem is all the more meaningful for its succinct, but also dramatic prose.

TO MY DEAR AND LOVING HUSBAND

by: Anne Bradstreet (c.1612-1672)

I ever two were one, then surely we.
If ever man were lov'd by wife, then thee.
If ever wife was happy in a man,
Compare with me, ye women, if you can.
I prize thy love more than whole Mines of gold 
Or all the riches that the East doth hold.
My love is such that Rivers cannot quench,
Nor ought but love from thee give recompetence.
Thy love is such I can no way repay.
The heavens reward thee manifold, I pray.
Then while we live, in love let's so persever
That when we live no more, we may live ever."

The Road Not Taken

"The Road Not Taken" used to be one of my most favorite poems. I fancy myself as a rebel in society in that I’m fine doing my own thing, and this poem seemed to echo my strong stance on carving out and following your own path. My eighth grade class even recited this at our graduation ceremony almost as a pledge to the world.

But recently while browsing online I discovered that Frost really meant to comment on the annoyance of those who place too much meaning on arbitrary decisions! Frost would often go on walks with his friend Edward Thomas who would take a bit of time deciding which walking path to take. This was also brought up in the Netflix Original Series “Orange is the New Black.”

My reaction? 

This has sort of always been my mantra! Now I don’t know whether I should remove this from my Facebook Profile’s “About Me” section or not….decisions, decisions...:P

Two roads diverged in a yellow wood,

And sorry I could not travel both

And be one traveler, long I stood

And looked down one as far as I could

To where it bent in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as fair,

And having perhaps the better claim,

Because it was grassy and wanted wear;

Though as for that the passing there

Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay

In leaves no step had trodden black.

Oh, I kept the first for another day!

Yet knowing how way leads on to way,

I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a sigh

Somewhere ages and ages hence:

Two roads diverged in a wood, and I—

I took the one less traveled by,

And that has made all the difference.

Ella Wheeler Wilcox

"Laugh, and the world laughs with you;

Weep, and you weep alone.

For the sad old earth must borrow its mirth

But has trouble enough of its own..." 

-Solitude

So in coming up with the title for my blog I googled the phrase "Twilight Thoughts" and came across a poem entitled thus. I happened to like the poem which I will share below. 

But most interestingly! after reading a bit of the poet's bio, I saw that she is also the author of the famous lines above - previously I had no idea who had written them or how old was this saying! She wrote these lines after having become a widow. 

The poem below has the same melancholy, almost cynical tone, but also talks of concern for the well-being of others. 

At least this is how I read it - feel free to share your own interpretations below!

The God of the day has vanished

The light from the hills has fled,

And the hand of an unseen artist,

Is painting the west all red.

All threaded with gold and crimson,

And burnished with amber dye,

And tipped with purple shadows,

The glory flameth high.

Fair, beautiful world of ours!

Fair, beautiful world, but oh,

How darkened by pain and sorrow,

How blackened by sin and woe.

The splendor pales in the heavens

And dies in a golden gleam,

And alone in the hush of twilight,

I sit, in a checkered dream.

I think of the souls that are straying,

In shadows as black as night,

Of hands that are groping blindly

In search of the shining light;

Of hearts that are mutely crying,

And praying for just one ray,

To lead them out of the shadows,

Into the better way.

I think of the Father's children

Who are trying to walk alone,

Who have dropped the hand of the Parent,

And wander in ways unknown.

Oh, the paths are rough and thorny

And I know they cannot stand.

They will faint and fall by the wayside,

Unguided by God's right hand.

And I think of the souls that are yearning

To follow the good and true;

That are striving to live unsullied,

Yet know not what to do.

And I wonder when God, the Master,

Shall end this weary strife,

And lead us out of the shadows

Into the deathless life.

(1869)