In Praise of my Bed!

10 03 2011

In Praise of My Bed

http://www.poetryoutloud.org/poems/poem.html?id=239634

Meredith Holmes

At last I can be with you!
The grinding hours
since I left your side!
The labor of being fully human,
working my opposable thumb,
talking, and walking upright.
Now I have unclasped
unzipped, stepped out of.
Husked, soft, a be-er only,
I do nothing, but point
my bare feet into your
clean smoothness
feel your quiet strength
the whole length of my body.
I close my eyes, hear myself
moan, so grateful to be held this way.
I enjoy this poem because I too feel the same way about my bed.  I enjoy the clean smoothness, and the quiet strength that the bed emanates.




Pale Blue Dot

2 03 2011

Consider again that dot.
That’s here. That’s home. That’s us.
On it everyone you love, everyone you know,
everyone you ever heard of,
every human being who ever was,
lived out their lives.

The aggregate of our joy and suffering,
thousands of confident religions, ideologies, and economic doctrines,
every hunter and forager, every hero and coward,
every creator and destroyer of civilization,
every king and peasant,
every young couple in love,
every mother and father,
hopeful child,
inventor and explorer,
every teacher of morals,
every corrupt politician,
every “superstar,” every “supreme leader,”
every saint and sinner in the history of our species lived there
on a mote of dust suspended in a sunbeam.

The Earth is a very small stage in a vast cosmic arena.
Think of the rivers of blood spilled by all those generals and emperors, so that,
in glory and triumph, they could become the momentary masters
of a fraction of a dot.
Think of the endless cruelties visited by the inhabitants of one corner of this pixel
on the scarcely distinguishable inhabitants of some other corner,
how frequent their misunderstandings,
how eager they are to kill one another,
how fervent their hatreds.

Our posturings, our imagined self-importance,
the delusion that we have some privileged position in the Universe,
are challenged by this point of pale light.
Our planet is a lonely speck in the great enveloping cosmic dark.
In our obscurity, in all this vastness,
there is no hint that help will come from elsewhere to save us from ourselves.
The Earth is the only world known so far to harbor life.
There is nowhere else, at least in the near future,
to which our species could migrate.
Visit, yes. Settle, not yet.
Like it or not, for the moment the Earth is where we make our stand.
It has been said that astronomy is a humbling and character building experience.
There is perhaps no better demonstration of the folly of human conceits
than this distant image of our tiny world.
To me, it underscores our responsibility to deal more kindly with one another,
and to preserve and cherish the pale blue dot, the only home we’ve ever known.

- Carl Sagan, astrologer.  From “Pale Blue Dot”, the documentary.

I enjoy the point of view and the word choice in this poem.  The pattern where Sagan talks of every person on earth.  Very, very lovely.  The general tone of the poem is beautiful as well.  So off earth, so lovely, so eerily calm.  It’s humbling to know how small we are.








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