|Chrysanthemum: Lavender Pixies|
(By Anne Sexton)
I am not lazy.
I am on the amphetamine of the soul.
I am, each day,
typing out the God
my typewriter believes in.
Very quick. Very intense,
like a wolf at a live heart.
When a lazy man, they say,
looks toward heaven,
the angels close the windows.
keep the windows open
so that I may reach in
and steal each object,
objects that tell me the sea is not dying,
objects that tell me the dirt has a life-wish,
that the Christ who walked for me,
walked on true ground
and that this frenzy,
like bees stinging the heart all morning,
will keep the angels
with their windows open,
wide as an English bathtub.
Although her birth date ought to be celebrated on November 9th, Friday would not cooperate, forcing me to delay our Anne Sexton day for a couple of days. ;-)
You may recall how much I adore confessional poetry; well, the confessions of Anne Sexton are the best. Her poems have an intense potency, with passionate cadences and startling imagery. The authenticity of her voice stops time and realigns the world.
|Chrysanthemum: Yoko Ono|
And the mums? I took so many photos of the beauties at last weekend's show that I couldn't just let them languish on my hard drive or get Flicked away, lost in the sea of information. Yeah, it's not as if Paideia has the largest readership in the world, but at least they get to share a post with Anne Sexton.
Who could ask for more than that? ;-)
Let's celebrate the beauty of words and flowers, thrill in colors and sounds, and give thanks for the riches of our life, be they grand or humble.
And for music as rich and sweet as honey, here's Vanessa Daou:
"Dear Anne Sexton"