The poem bandwagon
The thing now seen on many of your journals, where once you see it you post a poem you like in your own LJ.
I wasn't going to do this one because I'm not much for poetry (it's really hit-or-miss for me; some poems I love profoundly, many I just don't seem to get). But here I am possibly verging on insomnia, or maybe just staying up a couple hours too late, so I found one I loved in high school. Plus ça change, plus c'est le même chose.
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“The Pilot” by Russell Edson
Up in a dirty window in a dark room is a star which an old man can see. He looks at it. He can see it. It is the star of the room; an electrical freckle that has fallen out of his head and gotten stuck in the dirt on the window.
He thinks he can steer by that star. He thinks he can use the back of a chair as a ship’s wheel to pilot this room through the night.
He says to himself, brave Captain, are you afraid?
Yes, I am afraid; I am not so brave.
Be brave, my Captain.
And all night the old man steers his room through the dark . . .
I wasn't going to do this one because I'm not much for poetry (it's really hit-or-miss for me; some poems I love profoundly, many I just don't seem to get). But here I am possibly verging on insomnia, or maybe just staying up a couple hours too late, so I found one I loved in high school. Plus ça change, plus c'est le même chose.
_______*_______
“The Pilot” by Russell Edson
Up in a dirty window in a dark room is a star which an old man can see. He looks at it. He can see it. It is the star of the room; an electrical freckle that has fallen out of his head and gotten stuck in the dirt on the window.
He thinks he can steer by that star. He thinks he can use the back of a chair as a ship’s wheel to pilot this room through the night.
He says to himself, brave Captain, are you afraid?
Yes, I am afraid; I am not so brave.
Be brave, my Captain.
And all night the old man steers his room through the dark . . .