Poem …life could get this small…

This poem haunts me, maybe haunt is not the right word, one phrase in particular sticks in my mind;

I never thought that life could get this small

It is from a poem called “Chemotherapy” by Julia Darling. It ends saying

I’m not unhappy. I have learnt to drift

and sip. The smallest things are gifts.

You can read more about her work in this article in the Guardian.

http://www.guardian.co.uk/books/2004/aug/05/health.poetry

I like the description

My joints are like rusty cranes

My spine is frozen

 

Verse Daily – Poems

“This seems less like competition and more like common ground to us”.

http://www.versedaily.org/faq.shtml

A new poem every day

http://www.versedaily.org/index.shtml

They have a very impressive archive!

http://www.versedaily.org/archives.shtml

“Poetry is constructed around a series of rules, half-rules, guides and contours, an incredibly complex set of cultural signifiers and references. If you don’t know the rules of cricket, it will make no sense to you. Ditto Fanthorpe, perhaps?

One potential response: I know what I like (and I like what I know)”

http://bagelmouseuk.typepad.com/studio_living/2009/05/potu.html#comments