22 September 2009

"Tis better...

to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all"


I've been reading poetry just a little bit more since the Summer than I ever have before and Tennyson, has become a favorite writer.  Shakespeare and his scores  of sonnets were amazing, but Tennyson kinda sums it up without a buncha fluff..., over and over.  And then his poems of love lost.  It seems to be a more complete thought when you take the whole verse:

I hold it true, whate'er befall;
I feel it, when I sorrow most;
'Tis better to have loved and lost
Than never to have loved at all.

 He loved to pair the light and dark, the happy with sad, life with death... yes, a lot of death.  So his poetry always leaves me thinking, and a little less than satisfied and hopeful, actually, that there is a place of pure and constant happiness.  And wondering about the high, highs and the low, lows.  Should we avoid them or seek them hungrily as part of the adventure, the travel, the experience and not try to locate as a destination.  And what of all the different types of people, places and things?

‘Shall eagles not be eagles? wrens be wrens?
If all the world were falcons, what of that?
The wonder of the eagle were the less,
But he not less the eagle. Happy days
Roll onward, leading up the golden year.

And questions of our place or purpose:

The world is somewhat; it goes on somehow:
But what is the meaning of then and now?
I feel there is something; but how and what?
I know there is somewhat: but what and why?
I cannot tell if that somewhat be I.

Anyway...a lot of questions and no answers.  Part of my growing poetry enjoyment is the sense that I'm drinking the nectar of the fruit without all of the peeling and pulp - sort of efficiency of word.

Y'all have fun..., but not without the not-so-fun...


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