I like it when poems come together (accidentally or on purpose). So I think I shall post poetry quotes that seem to intersect; perhaps it'll become a frequent feature on this blog.
The wounded surgeon plies the steel
That questions the distempered part;
Beneath the bleeding hands we feel
The sharp compassion of the healer's art
Resolving the enigma of the fever chart.
- Eliot
A Wounded Deer -- leaps highest --
I've heard the Hunter tell --
Tis but the Ecstasy of death --
And then the Brake is still!
. . .
Mirth is the Mail of Anguish --
In which it Cautious Arm,
Lest anybody spy the blood
And "you're hurt" exclaim!
- Dickinson
1 comment:
This is very similar to "found poetry." Are you familiar with it? Have you tried it? I wrote my first (real) found poem this year.
qbsbln
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