Posts tagged Adrienne RIch

“No one’s fated or doomed to love anyone.

These accidents happen, we’re not heroines,

they happen in our lives like car crashes, 

books that change us, neighborhoods

we move into and come to love.

Tristan and Isolde is scarcely the story,

women at least should know the difference 

between love and death. No poison cup, 

No penance.”

Adrienne Rich from “XVII” in her collection, The Dream of a Common Language

“The stars will come out over and over

the hyacinths rise like flames

from the windswept turf down the middle of upper Broadway

where the desolate take the sun

the days will run together and stream into years

as the rivers freeze and burn

and I ask myself and you, which of our visions will claim us

which will we claim

how will we go on living

how will we touch, what will we know

what will we say to each other.”

Adrienne Rich, from “Nights and Days,” in her collection, The Dream of a Common Language

Which of our visions will claim us?

“My three sisters are sitting

on rocks of black obsidian.

For the first time, in this light, I can see who they are.

My first sister is sewing her costume for the procession.

She is going as the Transparent Lady

and all her nerves will be visible.

My second sister is also sewing,

at the seam over her heart which has never healed entirely.

At last, she hopes, this tightness in her chest will ease.

My third sister is gazing

at a dark-red crust spreading westward far out on the sea.

Her stockings are torn, but she is beautiful.”

Adrienne Rich

The first instinct is to say, ah, of course there are three. There are always three sisters.

But remember, there is also the sister who tells the story.

                                        “Under night

Impatient lovers did not quench the light, 

But listening heard above each other’s breath

That sound the dying heard in rooms of death.

Each loudly asked abroad, and none dared tell

What omen in that burning torrent fell.

And all night long we lay, while overhead

The drops rained down as if the heavens bled;”

Adrienne Rich, from “The Rain of Blood”

I have been in need of omens.