Monday, May 18, 2009

save the drama for your mama

as i was reading through the internet, i came across a tumblr that consisted of quotes, sayings, and pics people have taken of their written on hands... you get the idea. stuff like that is real addicting to me to read. and some of it is pretty funny, with a few genuinely inspiring quotes thrown in ... but i can only take so much of the:
*love = like x like
*did you really mean forever?
*i just want to be where you are
*i was born to tell you i love you
etc. etc., written on torn up scraps of paper and what not before my eyes are in danger of rolling right out of my head. don't get me wrong peeps, i am super dramatic, i just have a limit to how dramatic i can be before i am really embarassed of myself. anyway, in one of these super dramatic posts about love, the first sentence said that love is like the leftovers in a refrigerator. well that got a big eye roll, but it also reminded me of one of my favorite poems of all time by billy collins, called litany. it is hilarious. do yourself a favor and read it.

Litany by Billy Collins

You are the bread and the knife,
the crystal goblet and the wine.
You are the dew on the morning grass
and the burning wheel of the sun.
You are the white apron of the baker,
and the marsh birds suddenly in flight.

However, you are not the wind in the orchard,
the plums on the counter,
or the house of cards.
And you are certainly not the pine-scented air.
There is just no way that you are the pine-scented air.

It is possible that you are the fish under the bridge,
maybe even the pigeon on the general's head,
but you are not even close
to being the field of cornflowers at dusk.

And a quick look in the mirror will show
that you are neither the boots in the corner
nor the boat asleep in its boathouse.

It might interest you to know,
speaking of the plentiful imagery of the world,
that I am the sound of rain on the roof.

I also happen to be the shooting star,
the evening paper blowing down an alley
and the basket of chestnuts on the kitchen table.

I am also the moon in the trees
and the blind woman's tea cup.
But don't worry, I'm not the bread and the knife.
You are still the bread and the knife.
You will always be the bread and the knife,
not to mention the crystal goblet and--somehow--the wine.

3 comments:

kelly said...

you are the sun flare on my polaroid and the frosting in my macaroon. you are the crown on my keep calm and carry on poster and the f*yeah on my tumblr...

sarawhat said...

It would be really funny to read that poem as wedding vow. I would laugh. hard.

GRodenberg said...

that's awesome. now i know why you have gotten so into poetry. now i think i can even like it!