is assumed that no two opposing words love and fear. The fear that creeps in every corner of the soul, becomes entangled in your thoughts and your breath freezes up. Fear makes you run as far as possible from love. The question is: Do I let go, let me know when that drop without bottoming out or I hold my fear but stay safe?
Falling in love is easy, you only live the beautiful, good, happy love, and even strangers is unpleasant, even pain and suffering of this estrangement is pleasant. Love, instead pulling you into madness, the overwhelming and insatiable desire, to the edge of your own self: drink blood, you sink into the angularity and rescodos other's body, and only breathe your breath. Love makes being a stranger becomes familiar, who want it all, know everything, look, smell, touch everything. You give yourself completely, you lose, you give, you drown. Falling in love is a joy of life, love is an encounter with death. Yet that smile that makes you life every day.
Variations On The Word Love by Margaret Atwood
This is a word we use to plug
holes with. It's the right size for those warm
blanks in speech, for those red heart-
shaped vacancies on the page that look nothing
like real hearts. Add lace
and you can sell
it. We insert it also in the one empty
space on the printed form
that comes with no instructions. There are whole
magazines with not much in them
but the word love, you can
rub it all over your body and you
can cook with it too. How do we know
it isn't what goes on at the cool
debaucheries of slugs under damp
pieces of cardboard? As for the weed-
seedlings nosing their tough snouts up
among the lettuces, they shout it.
Love ! Love ! sing the soldiers, raising
their glittering knives in salute.
Then there's the two
of us. This word
is far too short for us, it has only
f our letters, too sparse
to fill those deep bare
vacuums between the stars
that press on us with their deafness.
It's not love we don't wish
t o fall into, but that fear.
this word is not enough but it will
have to do. It's a single
vowel in this metallic
silence, a mouth that says
O again and again in wonder
and pain, a breath, a finger
grip on a cliffside. Puede
hold on or let go.
Margaret Atwood was born in 1939 in Ottawa, Canada. He spent his childhood in the wild and fresh Northern Quebec. He moved his family to Toronto when she was seven. He graduated from the University of Toronto and did his masters in the Radcliffe College. In 1961 he published his first collection of poetry called "Double Persephone."
Margaret Atwood was born in 1939 in Ottawa, Canada. He spent his childhood in the wild and fresh Northern Quebec. He moved his family to Toronto when she was seven. He graduated from the University of Toronto and did his masters in the Radcliffe College. In 1961 he published his first collection of poetry called "Double Persephone."
His work includes his second volume of poetry "The Circle Game", a highly controversial study of Canadian literature titled "Canadian Literature Survival: A Thematic Guide to Canadian Literature." Also her novels: "The Edible Woman" and "The Handmaid's Tale" (which was adapted for film in 1990) and his latest novel "The Blind Assassin." In total he has published over 50 books of poetry, fiction and criticism. He has won many awards including the Arthur C. Clarke for Best Science Fiction and the Commonwealth Literature Prize.
Sources: www.poetseers.org .
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