Apr 29 2011

Into Two

Published by at 7:57 am under Heartbreak Poems

Wet eyelashes and smudged mascara
Wiping teardrops off my face
Red cheeks, and puffy eyes
Can somebody pull me out of this phase
This empty feeling, feels insane
Laying here, wanting you
Someone help me, help me now
My heart has broken into two

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5 responses so far

5 Responses to “Into Two”

  1. ms.emptyon 01 May 2011 at 2:23 pm


  2. Demion 12 May 2011 at 10:59 pm

    Exactly how I feel about my situation. )’:

  3. Anaon 25 Jun 2011 at 12:11 pm

    Can somebody pull me out of this phase


  4. pixieon 25 Jun 2011 at 5:19 pm

    we all need to save ourselves. its hard
    but its worth it
    great poem. i do get it, u know

  5. Daveon 15 May 2012 at 8:19 pm

    In a recent initeverw, poet Jane Hirshfield said: As a flint holds the spark, each good poem holds a hidden bit of life knowledge that its reading releases in us and we in it. Poetry returns me to the sense of the infinite possibility that dwells in each particular thing, and also returns me to the flavor and scent and textures of the particular, where the infinite must reside. But Blake put this much better: To see a world in a grain of sand/ And a heaven in a wildflower.’ Each good poem reopens that gate, reminds us how such seeing is done ( The Bloomsbury Review, July/August 2001). Pulitzer Prize-winning poet, Mary Oliver, has the gift of writing such poetry, and it is no surprise that this collection of verse won the National Book Award.I revisited this 1992 collection of NEW AND SELECTED POEMS after reading Oliver’s equally stunning THE LEAF AND THE CLOUD. The dream of my life/ Is to lie down by a slow river/ And stare at the light in the trees, she writes in Entering the Kingdom; To learn something by being nothing/ A little while but the rich/ Lens of attention (p. 190). In her poetry, Oliver reveals her ability to pay attention to life in a deep way. I don’t know exactly what a prayer is, she writes in The Summer Day. I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down/ into the grass, how to kneel in the grass,/ how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,/ which is what I have been doing all day./ Tell me, what else should I have done?/ Doesn’t everything die at last, and too soon?/ Tell me, what is it you plan to do/ with your one wild and precious life? (p. 94). In her poetry, Oliver experiences life at the edge of her senses. In Landscape, she says, Every morning I walk like this around/ the pond, thinking: if the doors of my heart/ ever close, I am as good as dead (p. 129).Much of Oliver’s poetry is drawn from nature, where we find God speaking to her of so many wise and delectable things through dirt, in his dog voice/ crow voice,/ frog voice (pp. 120-21). In Spring Azures, Oliver writes In spring the blue azures bow down/ at the edges of shallow puddles/ to drink the black rain water (p. 8). In Peonies, she writes, This morning the green fists of the peonies are getting ready/ to break my heart/ as the sun rises,/ as the sun strokes them with his old, buttery fingers (p. 21). In The Moths, Oliver observes The wings of the moths catch the sunlight/ and burn/ so brightly (p. 133). For her, the Trick of living is finding Walden where you are (p. 239). Do you love this world, she asks. Do you cherish your humble and silky life?/ Do you adore the green grass, with its terror beneath? (p. 22).I could go on all day praising this book. Mary Oliver is one of my favorite poets, and this collection is one of my favorite books of poetry. It offers a radiant introduction to Oliver’s verse, and it will also provide a good introduction to the pleasures of reading really good poetry.G. Merritt

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