If I see no end in is

May 28, 2008

an unknown future..who knows where it will lead usIf See No End In Is

 

What none knows is when, not if.

Now that your life nears its end

when you turn back what you see

is ruin. You think, It is a prison. No,

it is a vast resonating chamber in

which each thing you say or do is

new, but the same. What none knows is

how to change. Each plateau you reach, if

single, limited, only itself, in-

cludes traces of all the others, so that in the end

limitation frees you, there is no

end, if   you once see what is there to see.

 

You cannot see what is there to see

not when she whose love you failed is

standing next to you. Then, as if refusing the know-

ledge that life unseparated from her is death, as if

again scorning your refusals, she turns away. The end

achieved by the unappeased is burial within.

 

Familiar spirit, within whose care I grew, within

whose disappointment I twist, may we at last see

by what necessity the double-bind is in the end

the figure for human life, why what we love is

precluded always by something else we love, as if

each no we speak is yes, each yes no.

 

The prospect is mixed but elsewhere the forecast is no

better. The eyrie where you perch in

exhaustion has food and is out of the wind, if

cold. You feel old, young, old, young: you scan the sea

for movement, though the promise of sex or food is

the prospect that bewildered you to this end.

Something in you believes that it is not the end.

When you wake, sixth grade will start. The finite you know

you fear is infinite: even at eleven, what you love is

what you should not love, which endless bullies in-

tuit unerringly. The future will be different: you cannot see

the end. What none knows is when, not if.

 

 

White was relaying a message to the reader in this poem. Nobody knows when something will happen, or if something will happen. all that we know is that death is inevitable, and looking back, each plateu you reach you can’t change, but only work with as you reach it. the end is not there, once you see what there is to be seen. however, you are unable to see clearly when things fail you. i can relate to this in that when you are trying to reach a certain point in your life, and you are unsuccessful, the realization of your failure is staring at you in the face. it is something that can be accepted, but not very easily. the last stanza really stood out to me.

Something in you believes that it is not the end.” (…) ” The future will be different: you cannot see the end. What none knows is when, not if.”   when things come to an end, good or bad, you can not believe how fast they end. the fact that i am graduating is exactly like that. i can not believe it’s ending. and my future is unknown, and i can never see the end. questioning if something happens is not something i can do, because there are things that will happen, its just a matter of when. i think White is trying to relay that message. it is not a matter of if something will happen, it is the matter of waiting for it to come. once it does, was it worth it in the end?

 

Desconocido

February 29, 2008

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A un Desconocido I was looking for your hair, black as old lava on an island of white coral. I dreamed it deserted you and came for me, wrapped me in its funeral ribbons

and tied me a bow of salt.

 Here’s where I put my demise: desiring fire in a web of tide, marrying the smell of wet ashes to the sweet desert of your slate. My intelligent mammal, male of my species, twin sun to a world not of my making, you reduce me to the syrup of the moon, you boil my bones in the absence of hands.  Where is your skin, parting me? Where is the cowlick under your kiss teasing into purple valleys? Where are your wings, the imaginary tail and its exercise? Where would I breed you? In the neck of my secret heart where you’ll go to the warmth of me biting into that bread where crumbs crack and scatter and feed us our souls;  if only you were a stone I could

throw, if only I could have you.

in spanish, desconocido means unknown. In this poem Cervantes is referring to something she was looking for, but doesnt know where to find it.

 “if only you were a stone I could

throw, if only I could have you.”

    when looking for something you don’t know exactly how to classify it until it is within your grasp. like rocks, they are all rocks at a simple glance, but when you take one and look at it for yourself, you begin to define it. this is much like how you are to the universe. to the people that surround you and to yourself, you are someone, and known. but to the universe, you are just another stone in the garden, unknown to everyone.

  it’s almost as if this unknown she is searching for is a lost love. “Where is your skin, parting me? Where is the cowlick under your kiss teasing into purple valleys?” it seems to be something she used to know, and used to be able to define. but now that it’s gone, it is unknown to her and something she is not able to grasp.