Thursday, April 11, 2013

Poet

So lately ive been reading poems from this poet I watched ghost adventures and I learned about this poet that and the poem I heard from there was just amazing and I had to just share it so I thought I would post it on here to share it. It is by Robinson Jeffers who is actually dead now unfortunately.

I am not dead, I have only become inhuman:
That is to say,
Undressed myself of laughable prides and infirmities,
But not as a man
Undresses to creep into bed, but like an athlete
Stripping for the race.
The delicate ravel of nerves that made me a measurer
Of certain fictions
Called good and evil; that made me contract with pain
And expand with pleasure;
Fussily adjusted like a little electroscope:
That's gone, it is true;
(I never miss it; if the universe does,
How easily replaced!)
But all the rest is heightened, widened, set free.
I admired the beauty
While I was human, now I am part of the beauty.
I wander in the air,
Being mostly gas and water, and flow in the ocean;
Touch you and Asia
At the same moment; have a hand in the sunrises
And the glow of this grass.
I left the light precipitate of ashes to earth
For a love-token.

- Robinson Jeffers

2 comments:

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  2. . . . but he is only dead to the flesh. His spirit is as in the poem.

    Alive and eternal.

    All things.

    He lives each time we read his words.

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