Definitely Not Lemmings #41

A warm December welcome to Leigh Tuplin. Leigh’s blog combines poetry with photographs—well worth taking a look at. Thank you, Leigh.

At a Loss for Words

–for Eleni, again 

With all my words found wanting 

My love, my muse, what must I do 

To find the one just right for you— 

Wear it on my sleeve? 

All That Glitter Is Not Gold (The Great Pretender)

Poet who fancies 

He has the Midas touch, 

Easy on that gilded dressing— 

You want your head stuffed 

And spinning, grinning on 

A silver platter? 

Beyond the Wildest Stretch of the Imagination

Imagine—once and for all— 

Standing at the sea’s edge, thinking 

Of the poet who said there will always be more to it 

Under the surface once you reach it, 

Will you be able to leave it at that? 

In Lieu of "Three Red Pigeons"

XXIV 

Here end the works of the sea, the works of love. 

Those who will some day live here where we end— 

should the blood happen to blacken in their memory and overflow— 

let them not forget us, the weak souls among the asphodels, 

let them turn towards Erebus the heads of the victims: 

We who had nothing will teach them peace. 

—George Seferis, from Mythistorema (My translation) 

(Music by Ilias Andriopoulos, sung by the late, great Nikos Xylouris)