I am looking for a poem that expresses the difficulty we have in ever really knowing another person.
The best analogy I can think of at the moment is adoption. An adopted child may never really feel at home with his/her adopted family - always slightly apart.
This is not always the case, I realize this but I hope it helps to express the idea I want to express to someone else.
Anyone any ideas?
I have a family get together soon and this might help mend some fences. Though, please don't lose any sleep over it.
Best,
Marie.
I changed the subject line to better reflect the message.
Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 09/08/2021 12:22AM by Marie Chapple.
The Stranger
by Rudyard Kipling
The Stranger within my gate,
He may be true or kind,
But he does not talk my talk--
I cannot feel his mind.
I see the face and the eyes and the mouth,
But not the soul behind.
The men of my own stock,
They may do ill or well,
But they tell the lies I am wanted to,
They are used to the lies I tell;
And we do not need interpreters
When we go to buy or sell.
The Stranger within my gates,
He may be evil or good,
But I cannot tell what powers control--
What reasons sway his mood;
Nor when the Gods of his far-off land
Shall repossess his blood.
The men of my own stock,
Bitter bad they may be,
But, at least, they hear the things I hear,
And see the things I see;
And whatever I think of them and their likes
They think of the likes of me.
This was my father's belief
And this is also mine:
Let the corn be all one sheaf--
And the grapes be all one vine,
Ere our children's teeth are set on edge
By bitter bread and wine.
Les
The Detached
We die,
Welcoming Bluebeards to our darkening closets,
Stranglers to our outstretched necks,
Stranglers, who neither care nor
care to know that
DEATH IS INTERNAL.
We pray,
Savoring sweet the teethed lies,
Bellying the grounds before alien gods,
Gods, who neither know nor
wish to know that
HELL IS INTERNAL.
We love,
Rubbing the nakednesses with gloved hands,
Inverting our mouths in tongued kisses,
Kisses that neither touch nor
care to touch if
LOVE IS INTERNAL.
Maya Angelou
Misprint in line 3 verse 2. The word is "wonted".
wont // adj., n., & v.
predic.adj. (foll. by to + infin.) archaic or literary accustomed (as we were wont to say).
n. formal or joc. what is customary, one's habit (as is my wont).
v.tr. & intr. (3rd sing. present wonts or wont; past wont or wonted) archaic make or become accustomed.
[Old English gewunod, past part. of gewunian, from wunian ‘dwell’]
Someone needs to correct the Archive as well.
Edited 1 time(s). Last edit at 09/08/2021 04:25PM by Linda.
I wanted to say that , but I won't
Someone needs to correct the Archive as well.
I'm sure Rudyard won't mind if we change a word or two.
Les
He'd be Kippled !
We don't have access to the database for the time being (hopefully) until all security issues are solved. But I will make a note of it.
Outwitted
Edwin Markham
He drew a circle that shut me out-
Heretic, a rebel, a thing to flout.
But Love and I had the wit to win:
We drew a circle that took him in!
Thanks for all the ideas - didn't help though. Somethings just can' be fixed!
Sigh, family...
Instead of a poem, could you make do with this old saying (said to be from Yorkshire, though I can't vouch for that)?
"All the world is queer, except for thee and me, and even thee's a little queer"
I've heard Friends (Quakers) say "All the world is mad save me and thee, and sometimes I have my doubts about thee."
Since there were an awful lot of Friends in this area - they founded chocolate factories in York (Terry's) and Halifax (Rowntrees), and lots of other businesses in Yorkshire - and there are quite a few meeting houses still going, it figures that the Yorkshire saying originated with the Quakers. I know they were persecuted and proscribed from carrying out quite a lot of businesses (or did their religion prevent that, not sure) and its possible they were driven North by said persecution.