thesearejusttosay

[thesearejusttosay]

With apologies to English folk rhymes, or something?

I'm craving, I'm craving, the plums you were saving, Delicious, cold, and sweet! I see no reason why ripe plums in season Are not for me to eat!

#wcw #this is just to say #william carlos williams #gunpowder treason #guy fawkes #fifth of november

[thesearejusttosay]

With apologies to Thom Gunn

Nightmare of feasting, drinking, endless eats. I ate. What feasting foods were then my meats? Tender ribs, sous vide for one full day, Or duck with rice and herbs in pot of clay? Or dainty broth, rich and clear as light, That's tasted once, and then put out of sight? Melon, rice, fish, eggs, banana, speck, tea. What foods, what groaning boards there were to see. These feel like fruits, and the peel is thin; No bone or shell here, but sweet juice within. With what in mind have they been put on ice? So cold; sweet. I'd buy them all at any price. The pale white bloom the sign it's ripe at last, My teeth tear, tear; I take the fallen mast As if the fruit were placed there for my sake. With chin still dripping I realize my mistake. But that plum's flesh already is in mine. I think on what I've done—I am a swine. I eat and eat—you say that it is greed. It is; what's worse, I ate the fruit you need. Forgive me, you whose breakfast plums I stole, Let me dig deep and try to make you whole. Cool flesh of fruit beneath the sour skin; Almond kernel the smooth-faced pit within. With your permission I could replace your meal And give you fruit, which I would never steal. I draw my begging pen across the page, Seeking forgiveness, and to quell your rage.

#thom gunn #william carlos williams #this is just to say #wcw #moly

[thesearejusttosay]

Without apologies to Joyce Kilmer

I think that I shall never face A plum so cold and sweet to taste. A plum whose skin is taut and tart, The acme of the grower's art; A plum that sits in calm repose, Awaiting as its ripeness grows; A plum about which I must say I took it and I had my way; Which you had set aside to greet When you emerged to breakfast eat. Plums are eaten by fools like me, But your forgiveness sets me free.

#wcw #joyce kilmer #trees #this is just to say #william carlos williams

[thesearejusttosay]

With apologies to Yeats and Hardy

An almost two-year-old effort, from December 31 2017, not hitherto posted for reasons of unthematicness:

Covered and covered by dregs of Winter The ancient pulse of birth is dried and hard; Day's eye is weak; the frost is spectre-grey; The sky appears a broken lyre; everywhere The Century's corpse lies upon the land; The best spirits are fervourless, while the worst Have retreated back to their household fires. Surely some revelation is at hand; Surely the New Year is at hand. The New Year! Hardly are those words out When a sound from the cloudy canopy Troubles my ear: somewhere in the bleak twigs A voice full-hearted and with ecstacy, A sound joyful, and strong as the wind, Is raised in evensong, while all about it The snowy blast beruffles small, gaunt birds. The gloom grows deeper; but now I know That twenty centuries of earthly doubts Were coaxed to sleep by causeless carolings, And what dark thrush, its hour come round at last, Trembles its blessed hope upon the air?

#thomas hardy #william butler yeats #yeats #hardy #the darkling thrush #the second coming

[thesearejusttosay]

With apologies (again) to Philip Larkin

Plucked from the coolness of an icebox shelf With hours still before the morning light Whose hand is this? How can I save myself? You seem to ask. I take a greedy bite, Then wipe my mouth. I hope I can explain Just why I took you for my supper, mate: I didn't know when such plums would come again. Forgive me: sweet and cold, you tasted great.

#wcw #larkin #William Carlos Williams #philip larkin #this is just to say #myxomatosis

[thesearejusttosay]

With apologies to Robert Graves

His hunger great beyond belief, He could eat a horse or beef And yet have room for more; he could Raid the icebox late at night Or stack a sandwich to a height Higher far than Dagwood would. Across two orchards he can tell When apples ripen on the trees. The peach's fuzz he far off sees; He notes Edenic quinces' smell, And eats so much it would surpass Credence—all the forms of wheat, Cheese boards, fruit so cold and sweet, Stews of beans producing gas; He heaps his plates so wide and tall He has to work to eat it all (His buttons strain, his belt undone), And when his feasting course is run He looks about with mumbling sighs And seeks forgiveness—at least he tries. His hunger great beyond belief He plunders god-like or like thief Lunch and breakfast, and gobbles Tums™, Without relief stealing your plums.

#william carlos williams #this is just to say #plums #robert graves #lost love #wcw

[thesearejusttosay]

With apologies to y’all for breaking with the theme

As solitary as a cloud That looks from high on hollow hills, I saw straightway a brilliant crowd, A host of saffron daffodils; A glinting lawn around an arbor, Swaying in wind down to a harbor. Continuous as yon shining stars That fill our galaxy with light, Blooming hard at hand and far Along a curving swath of bight: A thousand saw I, glancing fast, Dancing with a sprightly cast. A ship in port in wind did bob But far from half as gaily: And I could only watch and sob At such jocundity in frailty: I saw it all, but hardly thought What joy that show had with it brought. For oft, supining in a chair, In vacant or in thoughtful mood, I flash on it, with musing air, And blissfully upon it brood: At which my blood flows forth in rills To nourish growing daffodils.

#lipogram #william wordsworth #wordsworth #daffodils

[thesearejusttosay]

With apologies to Goethe

Froh empfind ich mich von denen Italiens Gärten begeistert; Frucht und Wurzel spricht lauter und reizender mir. Hier such' ich Gestalt, durchblättre die Teilen der Pflanze Mit geschäftiger Hand, täglich mit neuem Erfolg. Aber die Nächte hindurch hält Hunger mich anders beschäftigt; Werd ich dann halb nur gelehrt, bin ich auch doppelt schuldig. Und belehr ich mich nicht, indem ich die kalte Süssigkeit Des Fleisches probiere, die Hand zart die Reife tastet? Dann versteh ich die Urpflanze erst; ich denk und vergleiche, Schmecke mit fühlender Zung, fühle mit schmeckender Hand. Raub' ich der Liebste denn die für Frühstück gesparte Pflaumen, Gibt sie mir morgens ein Zeichen der Entschuldigung? Oder wird nimmer geküßt mehr, wird nur scharf gestritten? Überfällt sie der Schlaf, lieg ich und schreibe ihr viel. Jetzt such' ich das reumütiges Wort, umgeben von Kerne, Als ob von einem Chor, das ständig mit deutender Stille Mich an der Schuld erinnert. Ich esse die bittere Samen, Und bedenke die Gesetze der Metamorphose. Hunger macht den Kühlschrank indes zu, und denket daran, Wieviel von einem roten Schubkarre abhängig ist.

#goethe #william carlos williams #this is just to say #roman elegies #römische elegien #the metamorphosis of plants #die Metamorphose der Pflanze #urpflanze

[thesearejusttosay]

With apologies to William Wordsworth

THE PRELUDE (to "This Is Just To Say"):

Oh there is blessing in this icy box That holds our fruit and holds our water jars, And holds our meat: it makes a gentle hum, And seems half conscious of the joy it gives. O welcome Provender! O welcome Friend! A trav'ller greets thee, coming from the trail, And famished, from the mountain path returned, A pilgrimage where he hath eaten not. Now I am home, within four walls again, May take my delectation how I will. What dinner shall suffice me? In what drink Shall be my relief? What aperitif Shall spark my appetite, and what sweet cream Shall with what berries lull me at dessert? The fridge is all before me: with a heart Joyous, nor scared at its own liberty I look about, and should the guide I chuse Be nothing better than a buzzing fly I cannot but chuse well. I breathe again; Trances of fasts and grumblings of the gut Come quick upon me: they are felt again, As I scan the fridge they are felt again, The deprivations of my wandering days, The dust and weight of many a weary day Unfed, or fed by bars and pemmican. Full bowls of fruit (if I may boldly take Your breakfast-promised plums and make them mine) Full bowls of food and undisturbed delight Are mine in prospect; how shall I begin, With soup or nut or with a smorgasbord, Or shall I dare to take delicious plums, And let these drupes be my initial course?

#wcw #William Carlos Williams #william wordsworth #wordsworth #The Prelude #this is just to say

[thesearejusttosay]

With apologies to William Shakespeare

That want of food you read of in this note, When I have with your plums my belly filled, And left within your icebox not a mote, Bare empty shelves, where late the sweet drupes chilled. In this you read the story of a snack, Ate after sunset faded in the west, Which gives the reason that you breakfast lack, The morning meal, that's taken after rest. In this you read my frank forgiveness plea For eating of the plums that I presumed; The guilt for which, that burns inside of me, Is nourished by the plunder I consumed. This you read of, which makes your love more sweet, To love him well, who only wants to eat.

#this is just to say #william carlos williams #william shakespeare #sonnet 73 #bare ruined quires #wcw

[thesearejusttosay]

With apologies to to Alfred, Lord Tennyson

Plates cleared, we dine no more, Yet I still want to eat! And may there be no creaking of the door When I remove my treat,

But such a swing as hides the robber's acts, The fridge remaining dumb, When he from off the icebox shelf extracts The breakfast plum.

Cold; sweet; I'm full at last, And yet I feel the worse! So lest you angry accusations cast I write this verse:

For tho' from greed I've denied you, friend, The fruit on which you dote, I hope to be forgiven in the end When you have read this note.

#William Carlos Williams #alfred lord tennyson #crossing the bar #this is just to say

[thesearejusttosay]

With apologies to Robert Frost

She is as in a fridge a mirabelle In summer when the radiating heat Has dried the dew, and led the fruit to swell, So that with care it's set aside to eat, And its adorning blush upon the skin That paints its yellow with a dusky bloom, And signifies the sweetness found within, Shows that it's fit for breakfast to consume; Yet though it's hid away for just that fate A place where it will stay both cold and fresh, There still remains a man who cannot wait, And only by the pressure on its flesh As he removes it from the Frigidaire Is of the grasping poet made aware.

#William Carlos Williams #robert frost #this is just to say #the silken tent #wcw

[thesearejusttosay]

With apologies to George Meredith

Modern Plums I

By this she knew he rummaged in the fridge: That, at her foot's light step upon the tile, The light that glowed within was in denial At once behind the closing door abridged, The plums he sought already taken out, Which she was saving for breakfast. She lay Stone-still; he sucked the fruit, as if to say That they were sweeter being had without Permission. Then he threw away the stone, Got paper, and began to pen a note While she looked on, not caring what he wrote, Allowing him to work as if alone, Resenting his enactment of the fall. He labors at his text with greatest care, Imagining its reader's hateful stare, And wishing for a glance forgiving all.

#this is just to say #plums #george meredith #William Carlos Williams #wcw #modern love #modern love i

[thesearejusttosay]

With apologies to Robert Herrick

To William, Who May Command Him Anything

Bid me to live, and I will live, Thy provender to be; Or bid my give, and I will give Delicious plums to thee.

A plum as cold, a plum as sweet, With a stone as loose and free, As in the whole world thou canst eat, That plum I'll give to thee.

Bid that plum stay, and it will stay My breakfast for to be; Or bid it let you have your way And it will yield to thee.

Bid me forgive, and I'll forgive What trespasses I see; And seeing none, yet I'll forgive The things you keep from me.

Bid me to shop, and I will fill The icebox full for thee, Or bid me hear, and I will thrill To what you say to me.

Thou art my life, my fridge, my fruit, The very plums of me; And hast command of all my loot, To feed and comfort thee.

#William Carlos Williams #Robert Herrick #To Anthea who may command him anything #wcw #thisisjusttosay #this is just to say

[thesearejusttosay]

With apologies to George Herbert

Sweet plum, delicious, ripe, and cold, The glory of the fruited bough; I'll take you from the fridge's hold      And eat you now. Sweet note, which has just this to say, "I ate your plums—I know not how— And had your morrow's meal to-day",      I write you now: "Sweet fridge, full of sweet plums and more, A box where we preserve our chow, I've robbed you of the food you store;      You're empty now. Only a sweet and virtuous soul— Like she with whom the author lives— Although her food he often stole,      Yet him forgives."

#wcw #wililam carlos williams #george herbert #virtue #thisisjusttosay #this is just to say

[thesearejusttosay]

With, one hopes, apologies to William Butler Yeats

Yonder. The original version of this, published on facebook, referred to "the heavens' enripening fruits", clearly preferable at least metrically to the "enripened fruits" of the final version. But perhaps Dr. Healy had some hidden purpose in making the revision.

(Comparing the original the reason is presumably that "enripened" matches "embroidered", and the original, too, ends its lines with those heavy, blunt spondees. I don't love it but I suppose I should defer to Yeats, who was no slouch.)

#william carlos williams #wcw #thisisjusttosay #yeats #william butler yeats #aedh wishes for the cloth of heave #aedh

[thesearejusttosay]

With apologies to Percy Bysshe Shelley

For lack of fidelity to his rhyme scheme, among other things.

I met a friend while going out to drink who said, "Two small and fruitless pits of plum Lie in the compost ... Near them, by the sink, A crinkled slip of paper sits, with some Excuses sketched, whose spareness, and whose bold Enjambment, show its author's deft command Of image and effect can still take hold And guide the pen he takes up in his hand. And on the page words measured and controlled: 'I ate the plums that you had saved. Forgive me; they were delicious, so sweet and cold'. Behold the narcissist with whom I live! No offer to replace the food he steals, As if his verse made up for missing meals."

#wcw #shelley #percy bysshe shelley #thisisjusttosay #ozymandias #plums