Letter to Kate
For William Blake
My Catherine Sophia,
as you would be known.
You were just Kate.
Child of Pity, full of mouth.
Widened but illiterate.
My ravishing apprentice,
who never refused me.
The first five years between us
may have been frightening, but
they were useful to you.
I turned you from a shaky
X
to a sturdy Mrs. William Blake.
Mrs. Catherine Sophia Blake.
My Katie Blake.
And your talented integers
covered with paint would
play like a girl on the
etchings of my heart.
No one would know,
you were my relief.
“Stay Kate! Keep just as you are –
I will draw your portrait –
for you have ever been an angel to me.”
Do not let those be the last words
I utter to you.
Let them be my first words to you.
“Do you pity me?-
Then I love you.”
Child of Pity, full of grief.
The five days after I had left you,
you stayed at my bedside,
doing what I asked of you.
Not as a pet-named lapdog,
But head resting on your hands,
head turned to the side
face slightly turned upward,
As I etched your portrait on the
sky of heaven.
And your mind filled it with color.
Tuesday, April 13, 2010
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Reach for the clouds. . .
Tickle your toes. . .
-
there ain't no other place like you to roam. where I dug in my heels and said "No, I won't come home!" Dancing in the warb...
-
Under a blanket it was at high altitudes in love or nauseous? I once held his hand his touch was so soothing-but with a lion's face. and...
-
lean in a little. say it like it's a secret. make your breath sound like italics. click your tongue against the roof your mouth then you...
-
July 12th My love's hands and eyes so full of surprise! he sees nothing wrong with giving me a synthetic strawberry.
-
driving home from the farmer's market- I can't see anything- through this storm- I come home to sleep- with you-rest in your arms fu...
-
I thought it would be fitting to do an original of mine, but one of it's earlier drafts. I have recently reworked this poem so it includ...
-
July 9th i feel like running again. it's either that or swimming in a valley of tears. July 10th you couldn't tell by looking at us,...
-
The Anchor for Joel When love embarks, with its generating propellers slicing through the interminable oceans of imperfection that are, for ...
-
Reminder "You do not seem to understand," they'd say "That rivers are wide, and are not so easily crossed, we fear, they ...
-
The Opera The eyes of the firing-squad are aimed with lashed cross-hairs for now we, the chorus, all look like oiled up black ducks in a ro...
don't be lonely!
ReplyDeleteand this really was a fabulous piece :))
lol. thank you.
ReplyDelete"My ravishing apprentice,
ReplyDeletewho never refused me."
I adore that bit.
As I etched your portrait on the sky of heaven, and Blake, too?? Very nicely done. I know you said you studied or rather have your degree in Literature, something I had only hoped to tackle in my dreams, but you have done it, and a success you are. Blessed to have known you for such a short time as a poet.
ReplyDeletethank you, yes I actually studied Blake closely for one of my classes, as he is a favorite of mine. I did a close study of his light and dark imagery in his chimney sweeper poems, and in his poem London. I really attempted to pick apart Blake's opinion of his own city, and his stance on the plight of the forgotten and neglected.
ReplyDeleteI had a ball doing it.
you humble me, I am always lamenting the fact that I do not yet have my MFA--which in my mind would be a ticket to writing full-time,
I guess having a B.A. is an accomplishment althought some academics would have you believe differently...