Perspectives: Beauty And The Poem

September 25, 2006

 

Gasp!!!
Ahhhhh... Fresh air!
Cough, cough, that awful dust... from the Keats book.
What was I doing inside of a Keats book anyway?

Oh, yes, I remember.
It was that guy with the glasses.
And the ever-so-shiny bald head.
He put me there.
Who else would leave a wrinkled page of poetry
Forgotten for years
Inside of a Keats book?

Oooooohhh!! Hey!! You with the blue eyes!
No one has ever brushed over my title like that!
Impressive, huh?
But that's nothing
Compared to what else you'll find written here.

Yes, the next line, please.
Great intro, wouldn't you say?
Makes you forget about where you are,
As your eyes close
And all your cares disappear.

Slow down a little.
Enjoy the words. One at a time.
Let the excitement build before you get too far.
We don't want this to be over with too quickly, do we?

Blue eyes... and golden curls.
And look at those lips as she mouths my words.
Ohhhh. Ahhhh. Again, please, more!

A pause? We don't need to pause here, do we?
What were you doing in a Keats book anyway?
You mean you ENJOY reading Keats?
You didn't PLAN to rescue me from that dingy dungeon?
I didn't think you were that kind of woman!

Wait wait wait!!! Don't go.
I didn't mean it that way!
No one has read me in ever so long,
And we were just starting to have a good time.
Remember?

Now, read a little more.
'Bubbles, and ocean spray'.
Can you hear the waves crashing?
Can you feel the sand and bubbles on your toes?
That's imagery.

Try the next line: 'And breathed the briny breeze'.
You like that, huh?
It just sits on your tongue, doesn't it?
And doesn't want to fall off?
I can understand. Believe me, I can understand.

Read that line again, yeah... right... there.
'Where the sky bent down to touch the sea.'
Oh, ahh... just right.
The words are suggestive, not restrictive.
You are free to imagine,
While the words carry you over the ... horizon.

Can you sense the anticipation?
Do you see a theme here?
Maybe something about destiny...
Like you finding me in that book
Even though you weren't looking for me?
Is something tugging at your... yes, that's it, soul?
You know you were looking for me
Even though you didn't realize it before.

The last line was so sweet.
It tied the whole poem together.
Made you cry, didn't it?
Your tears... oh...
It's been ages since anyone cried like that while reading me.
So good!

I did it perfectly, didn't I?
I feel warm all over.
That was great.
Perhaps we can steal a few secret moments tomorrow?
I'll do my best to draw out those tears again.

No? Is it because the paper I'm written on is wrinkled?
Or dog-eared?
I'm really not as old as that.
Put me inside of a heavy book,
And tomorrow morning
I'll be pressed and crisp as new.
I promise.

Which book is that?
No, please, not that one! No!
Not Keats again!