A place to share a little about my crazy life filled with food, friends, faith and freedom.

Tuesday, March 5, 2013


Ok, I am starting to really like poems. Like the John Donne kinda poems. Especially this one-

by John Donne

A virtuous men pass mildly away,
    And whisper to their souls to go,
Whilst some of their sad friends do say,
    "Now his breath goes," and some say, "No."                     

So let us melt, and make no noise,                                     
    No tear-floods, nor sigh-tempests move ;
'Twere profanation of our joys
    To tell the laity our love. 

Moving of th' earth brings harms and fears ;
    Men reckon what it did, and meant ;                            
But trepidation of the spheres,
    Though greater far, is innocent. 

Dull sublunary lovers' love
    —Whose soul is sense—cannot admit
Of absence, 'cause it doth remove                                   
    The thing which elemented it. 

But we by a love so much refined,
    That ourselves know not what it is,
Inter-assurèd of the mind,
    Care less, eyes, lips and hands to miss.                           

Our two souls therefore, which are one,
    Though I must go, endure not yet
A breach, but an expansion,
    Like gold to aery thinness beat. 

If they be two, they are two so                                        
    As stiff twin compasses are two ;
Thy soul, the fix'd foot, makes no show
    To move, but doth, if th' other do. 

And though it in the centre sit,
    Yet, when the other far doth roam,                              
It leans, and hearkens after it,
    And grows erect, as that comes home. 

Such wilt thou be to me, who must,
    Like th' other foot, obliquely run ;
Thy firmness makes my circle just,                                  
    And makes me end where I begun.  

Ok, so y'all probably didn't read that whole poem. But it's super, super sweet and romancy. So you totally should. The entire poem evolves around the metaphor of two lovers compared to a compass- just as the compass needs an anchor in the middle so that the other part can revolve around it perfectly, a man that travels away needs a woman to be his anchor, waiting for him, calling him home. With his woman as his anchor, their love only grows stronger. He desires for her not to mourn, because their love transcends distance. They walk in step, no matter how far away their steps are. They are not complete without eachother. Ahhhh 1600's romance. It gets me every time.

Well, I hope you enjoyed a little food for the soul in the form of metaphysical poetry. My English teacher would be so proud.

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