Top of the Heap

Compost Studios:

A blog devoted to the art of reducing, reusing, and recycling experience through words, images, and poetry.


In the Studio
Past & Present
Backdoor
The Producers
Powered by Squarespace
Smallproud1

 

Copyright 2005-2009
Veronica McCabe Deschambault, V-Grrrl in the Middle, Compost Studios. All rights reserved. Content may not be posted or broadcast online or in other media without written permission. Link all you want!
« Charlie Wilson's War | Main | Trying my hand at acrylic painting »
Thursday
05Jun

Coming to This

DateJune 5, 2008 at 21:08

by Mark Strand

 

We have done what we wanted.

We have discarded dreams, preferring the heavy industry

of each other, and we have welcomed grief

and called ruin the impossible habit to break.

 

And now we are here.

The dinner is ready and we cannot eat.

The meat sits in the white lake of its dish.

The wine waits.

 

Coming to this

has its rewards:  nothing is promised, nothing is taken away.

We have no heart or saving grace,

no place to go, no reason to remain.

June 5, 2008

AuthorVeronica McCabe Deschambault | Comment7 Comments |
in

PrintView Printer Friendly Version

EmailEmail Article to Friend

Reader Comments (7)

Oh, that dinner waiting that can't be eaten...wow, how I know (and feel) that scenario. I hope that you can come to peace with what is happening, and find a way to dig in while it's still steaming hot from the oven....whatever that ends up meaning. Thinking of you.
June 6, 2008 | Unregistered CommenterTera
What's interesting to me about this one is the many different meanings it could have, depending on who is reading it. Any idea what the author intended?
June 6, 2008 | Unregistered CommenterGranola-grrrl
I've never read an analysis of this work. I only know what it means to me. Regardless of interpretation, this poem hits me right in the chest.

I first read it 20 years ago and for reasons I can't explain, always remembered the line "The meat sits in the white lake of its dish." That image struck something deep in my subconscious that I couldn't shake. Stagnation, comfort, anxiety, sustenance, death, inertia, expectation?

The first and third stanzas are so rich and layered, and yet as Tera noted, it's the simple image of the untouched meal on the table that is so disturbing. It haunts me.
June 6, 2008 | Unregistered CommenterV-Grrrl
Just now able to get some wireless service. I am so impressed by your paintings. Are you excited and over the moon with them?? You go, grrrrl:>)
June 7, 2008 | Unregistered CommenterAnnieH
This is a beautiful piece that I feel will stick with me the rest of my life. Thank you.

-CFS
June 8, 2008 | Unregistered CommenterCurrently Facing South
Wasted wine gets me every time.
June 9, 2008 | Unregistered CommenterClaudia
LMAO, Claudia. You kill me!!!
June 9, 2008 | Unregistered CommenterV-Grrrl

PostPost a New Comment

Enter your information below to add a new comment.

My response is on my own website »
Author Email (optional):
Author URL (optional):
Post:
 
All HTML will be escaped. Hyperlinks will be created for URLs automatically.