“Aria” by David Barber

What if   it were possible to vanquish
All this shame with a wash of   varnish
Instead of wishing the stain would vanish?

 

What if   you gave it a glossy finish?
What if   there were a way to burnish
All this foolishness, all the anguish?

 

What if   you gave yourself   leave to ravish
All these ravages with famished relish?
What if   this were your way to flourish?

 

What if   the self   you love to punish —
Knavish, peevish, wolfish, sheepish —
Were all slicked up in something lavish?

 

Why so squeamish? Why make a fetish
Out of everything you must relinquish?
Why not embellish what you can’t abolish?

 

What would be left if   you couldn’t brandish
All the slavishness you’ve failed to banish?
What would you be without this gibberish?

 

What if   the true worth of the varnish
Were to replenish your resolve to vanquish
Every vain wish before you vanish?

 
 

“There were days when she was very happy… (Chopin)

“There were days when she was very happy without knowing why. She was happy to be alive and breathing, when her whole being seemed to be one with the sunlight, the color, the odors, the luxuriant warmth of some perfect Southern day. She liked then to wander alone into strange and unfamiliar places. She discovered many a sunny, sleepy corner, fashioned to dream in. And she found it good to dream and to be alone and unmolested.

There were days when she was unhappy, she did not know why—when it did not seem worth while to be glad or sorry, to be alive or dead; when life appeared to her like a grotesque pandemonium and humanity like worms struggling blindly toward inevitable annihilation.

Kate Chopin, The Awakening

“Interior” by Dorothy Parker

Her mind lives in a quiet room,
A narrow room, and tall,
With pretty lamps to quench the gloom
And mottoes on the wall.

There all the things are waxen neat,
And set in decorous lines,
And there are posies, round and sweet,
And little, straightened vines.

Her mind lives tidily, apart
From cold and noise and pain,
And bolts the door against her heart,
Out wailing in the rain.

~ Dorothy Parker
Complete Poems

“Failing and Flying” by Jack Gilbert

Everyone forgets that Icarus also flew.
It’s the same when love comes to an end,
or the marriage fails and people say
they knew it was a mistake, that everybody
said it would never work. That she was
old enough to know better. But anything
worth doing is worth doing badly.
Like being there by that summer ocean
on the other side of the island while
love was fading out of her, the stars
burning so extravagantly those nights that
anyone could tell you they would never last.
Every morning she was asleep in my bed
like a visitation, the gentleness in her
like antelope standing in the dawn mist.
Each afternoon I watched her coming back
through the hot stony field after swimming,
the sea light behind her and the huge sky
on the other side of that. Listened to her
while we ate lunch. How can they say
the marriage failed? Like the people who
came back from Provence (when it was Provence)
and said it was pretty but the food was greasy.
I believe Icarus was not failing as he fell,
but just coming to the end of his triumph.

Jack Gilbert, “Failing and Flying” from Refusing Heaven. Copyright © 2005 by Jack Gilbert.

***

Poet David Bauman came to the rescue when I was looking for a sound recording of Gilbert’s beautiful poem. You may listen to David read Gilbert’s piece below, and you may also visit David’s blog The Dad Poet to read his accompanying post and to listen to his song choice pairing “Why Walk When You Can Fly” by the lovely Mary Chapin Carpenter. Thanks again, David, we appreciate you!

“My Hero” by Billy Collins

Just as the hare is zipping across the finish line,
the tortoise has stopped once again
by the roadside,
this time to stick out his neck
and nibble a bit of sweet grass,
unlike the previous time
when he was distracted
by a bee humming in the heart of a wildflower.

~ Billy Collins, Horoscopes for the Dead