Asia+Jackson

"Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you-like music to the musician or Marxism to the Communist-or else it is nothing..." F. Scott Fitzgerald

untitled by Asia Jackson

to the gone years, and the now years, and the maybe years when making precise decisions left inflicting thoughts of regret

to the playmates we never knew gaining a few, dragging along to a distance never knowing and never understanding.

to the sullen hours we grasped to know the answers to, and the places where, and the days when growing up to be men and women laughing, dancing, singing drinking God, and success losing time, walking blindly,

to those sleeping when hungry, yelling when burdened high when hopeless tangled among ourselves by unseen powers towering giving there shadows to spare. floundering in the mist of hypocrisy, confusion, and misunderstanding

to the moments we stepped back to see the beauty of healing and strength clenching to our bones pulsing our spirits boiling our blood getting through the hardships loving ourselves admitting our flaws letting go living

**by Joachim du Bellay**
 * 79**

I do not write of love: I am no lover. I do not write of beauty: I have no woman. I do not write of gentleness but the human rudeness I see. And my pleasures are all over, so I do not try to write of pleasure, but only misery. Favors? No, I am on my own. I do not write of riches: I have none. Or of life at court, when I'm far from it and lonely.

I do not write of health, for I'm often ill. I cannot write of France from a Roman hill. Or honor? I see so little of that about. I cannot write of friendship but only pretence. I will not write of virtue, here in its absence. Or knowledge or faith, in ignorance and doubt.

Throughout this poem, you see that the central subject is about a man who admits to what he isn’t. He’s use’s repeitivie words like ”I dont” and ”I am”. This effect’s the reader because it shows what honesty and simplicity can do for someone. ” I will not write of virtue, here in its absence. Or knowledge or faith, in ignorance and doubt.” Here is a key part of his poem, where he almost refuses to write of anything knowledgeable because ignorance is still alive, and faith when people still doubt, -even himself.


 * A SONNET TO HEAVENLY BEAUTY**
 * by Joachim du Bellay**

If this our little life is but a day In the Eternal,--if the years in vain Toil after hours that never come again, - If everything that hath been must decay, Why dreamest thou of joys that pass away, My soul, that my sad body doth restrain? Why of the moment's pleasure art thou fain? Nay, thou hast wings,--nay, seek another stay.

There is the joy whereto each soul aspires, And there the rest that all the world desires, And there is love, and peace, and gracious mirth; And there in the most highest heavens shalt thou Behold the Very Beauty, whereof now Thou worshippest the shadow upon earth.

The poet explains in this poem the difference between heaven and earth. How humans have fleeting moments of pleasure, whereas those above have lived lives so long that theirs are only a day compared to us. Unlike in his last poem he speaks quite formally, because he’s in awe of its beauty, love and graces. ” There is the joy whereto each soul aspires, and there the rest that all the world desires.” He explains that their souls have aspirations, which is something the rest of the human world desires.


 * TO HIS FRIEND IN ELYSIUM**
 * by Joachim du Bellay**

So long you wandered on the dusky plain, Where flit the shadows with their endless cry, You reach the shore where all the world goes by, You leave the strife, the slavery, the pain; But we, but we, the mortals that remain In vain stretch hands; for Charon sullenly Drives us afar, we may not come anigh Till that last mystic obolus we gain.

But you are happy in the quiet place, And with the learned lovers of old days, And with your love, you wander ever-more In the dim woods, and drink forgetfulness Of us your friends, a weary crowd that press About the gate, or labour at the oar.