Saturday, January 22, 2011

scan With darksome devouring eyes my bruisèd bones

Poo isn't recyclable? Bellerive, January 2011.

There was a time when I didn't like Gerard Manley Hopkins. It was all the passionate (defrocked) priests that ruined it for me. As time brings distance between myself and passionate (defrocked) priests, I think that I've come around.

40 (Carrion Comfort), by Gerard Manley Hopkins

NOT, I’ll not, carrion comfort, Despair, not feast on thee;
Not untwist—slack they may be—these last strands of man
In me ór, most weary, cry I can no more. I can;
Can something, hope, wish day come, not choose not to be.
But ah, but O thou terrible, why wouldst thou rude on me
Thy wring-world right foot rock? lay a lionlimb against me? scan
With darksome devouring eyes my bruisèd bones? and fan,
O in turns of tempest, me heaped there; me frantic to avoid thee and flee?

Why? That my chaff might fly; my grain lie, sheer and clear.
Nay in all that toil, that coil, since (seems) I kissed the rod,
Hand rather, my heart lo! lapped strength, stole joy, would laugh, chéer.
Cheer whom though? the hero whose heaven-handling flung me, fóot tród
Me? or me that fought him? O which one? is it each one? That night, that year
Of now done darkness I wretch lay wrestling with (my God!) my God.


Roddy said...

The Asians believe that it is. You will soon be eating it with your shitty vegetables and fruit.

Kris said...


Roddy said...

Human excrement as fertiliser.