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Find the morning sun. Drink coffee and stare at it
from your kitchen window. Call Charlie and Willie,
and burn the photographs today. Tell them,
the little lark no longer warbles on your finger.
Hold hands with your wife again. Welcome your son.
Do the things dead men do when they're past living.
Find a match and make our time curl into ashes.
Forget that I ever sang to you, my Emperor.
I'll plant calla lilies by my doorstep.
I will gather clouds to paint my memories.
I will never say bad things about you. I, like God,
work in mysterious ways.
| The speaker is a strong woman who can weather the storm of a relationship which has run its course. She will cut her losses and move on with her life. "Find a match and make our time into ashes". This is my favorite line. The "find a match" has a double meaning to me....she's telling him to go find another "match" for himself, and she is also telling him to burn the remnants of what they were....|
|| Posted on 2011-06-18 00:00:00 | by rubie | [ Reply to This ] |
I love the impact all the commands have. The short, clipped sentences. Both advice & direct orders. This first stanza is amazing. Especially that "the little lark no longer warbles on your finger." & As the reader I start wondering where this is going, why you're giving these commands, why these commands are these ways, & there are hints with the photograph notes, the time into ashes, & finally that key note line of "Forget that I ever sang to you, my Emperor." Though I imagine it might be difficult to forget being sang to by someone who called you Emperor. Side note there.
Though there is nothing that directly explains the reason for the poem, I gathered the impression of a love affair that has passed, & this is the one who is telling the other to go back to their life, take it for what its worth, don't try to figure you out, just take your words & go.
Which I might be interjecting the affair bit, but the rest would still apply anyway.
|| Posted on 2011-06-12 00:00:00 | by Santi | [ Reply to This ] || okay...it is the lark that is the herald of the morn...and with the sun it is time to leave...like romeo leaving juliet...|
but this time it is juliet leaving...go back to your wife, your son...i am not longer your concubine...
with the morning sun, you need to forget me...i can't be your affair..i want someone to sing to me who is free.
but i won't judge you, i won't say bad things..i won't carry a grudge...
i will just forget you...
well, anyway...that is where this took me..i'm probably out in left field...although i hear the grass is nice out there, and freshly cut.
|| Posted on 2011-06-11 00:00:00 | by jacoberin | [ Reply to This ] |