Siren Song
BY MARGARET ATWOOD
 
This is the one song everyone 
would like to learn: the song 
that is irresistible: 
 
the song that forces men 
to leap overboard in squadrons 
even though they see the beached skulls 
 
the song nobody knows 
because anyone who has heard it 
is dead, and the others can't remember. 
 
Shall I tell you the secret 
and if I do, will you get me 
out of this bird suit? 
 
I don't enjoy it here 
squatting on this island 
looking picturesque and mythical 
 
with these two feathery maniacs, 
I don't enjoy singing 
this trio, fatal and valuable. 
 
I will tell the secret to you, 
to you, only to you. 
Come closer. This song 
 
is a cry for help: Help me! 
Only you, only you can, 
you are unique 
 
at last. Alas 
it is a boring song 
but it works every time.
 
Margaret Atwood, “Siren Song” from Selected Poems 1965-1975. Copyright © 1974, 1976 by Margaret Atwood. Reprinted with the permission of the author and Houghton Mifflin Company.
Source: The Poetry Anthology 1912-2002 (2002)
 
via: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/poems/detail/32778
Nothing, in brief, but maudlin confession,
Irresponse to human aggression,
Amid the precipitation, down-float
Of insubstantial manna,
Lifting the faint susurrus
Of his subjective hosannah.
"'The Age Demanded'" by Ezra Pound

His Indicative some new aggression foreshews—
His Potential means plunder to friends and to foes—
His Subjunctive denotes turning Saints into Cash—
His Optative aims at these Islands a dash:
"The New French Grammar Analysed" by Thomas Stott

Long years we have suffered opprobrium and wrong,
But we clung to your side with affection so strong,
That at last, in mere wanton aggression, you broke
All the ties of our hearts with one murderous stroke.
"Farewell To Brother Jonathan" by Anonymous Americas

But even morons think a while
When trembling on the brink a while
Of chaos, and they've lately come to see,
Subtracting his aggressiveness
And picturesque expressiveness.
There's noting much remaining of John T.
"'John T'" by C J Dennis
October blasts had strown the wreaths that erstwhile hung so gay,
Above the brows of Queenston Heights where we impatient lay;
Niagara fretted at our feet, as chafing at his post,
And impotence to turn the fleets that bore the aggressive host.
"Laura Secord: The Heroine of The War Of 1812 - Act III" by Sarah Anne Curzon

Expand Cut Tags

No cut tags

Profile

locaprisa: (Default)
locaprisa

Syndicate

RSS Atom

Most Popular Tags

Style Credit

Page generated Jul. 23rd, 2017 06:40 am
Powered by Dreamwidth Studios
March 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31 2017