Showing posts with label Marianne Moore. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Marianne Moore. Show all posts

Monday, September 3, 2018

SILENCE
by Marianne Moore

My father used to say,
'Superior people never make long visits,
have to be shown Longfellow's grave
or the glass flowers at Harvard.
Self-reliant like the cat --
that takes its prey to privacy,
the mouse's limp tail hanging like a shoelace from its mouth --
they sometimes enjoy solitude,
and can be robbed of speech
by speech which has delighted them.
The deepest feeling always shows itself in silence;
not in silence, but restraint'.
Nor was he insincere in saying, 'Make my house your inn'.
Inns are not residences.

Thursday, May 17, 2012

to a steam roller - marianne moore

To A Steam Roller
by Marianne Moore

The illustration
is nothing to you without the application.
   You lack half wit.  You crush all the particulars down
      into close conformity and then walk back and
         forth on them.

Sparkling chips of rock
are crushed down to the level of the parent block.
   Were not "impersonal judgement in aesthetic
      matters, a metaphysical impossibility", you
       
might fairly achieve
it.  As for butterflies, i can hardly conceive
   of one's attending upon you, but to question
      the congruence of the compliment is vain, if it
         exists.