I believe in the cry that cuts into the melody

I can’t remember the path that led to me checking out Fast Animal by Tim Seibles (1955-) from the library a few weeks ago, but I’m so glad to now know his work, and this poem.

“Blade, Unplugged”

It’s true: I almost never
smile, but that doesn’t mean

I’m not    in love: my heart
is that black violin
played slowly. You know that

moment late in the solo
when the voice
is so pure      you feel
the blood in it: the wound

between rage
and complete surrender. That’s
where I’m smiling. You just
can’t see it – the sound

bleeding perfectly
inside me. The first time
I killed a vampire     I was

sad: I mean
we were almost family.

But that’s
so many lives ago. I believe

in the cry that cuts
into the melody, the strings
calling back the forgotten world.

When I think of the madness
that has made me       and the midnight
I walk inside–all day long

When I think of that
one note that breaks
what’s left of what’s
human in me, man

I love       everything.

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It’s a hard time to be human.

While browsing a dear friend’s bookshelves this weekend, I opened up one of the collection he was fervently recommending, Like a Beggar by Ellen Bass, and I instantly fell in love with this poem.

“The World Has Need Of You”

everything here
seems to need us
          Rainer Maria Rilke

I can hardly imagine it
as I walk to the lighthouse, feeling the ancient
prayer of my arms swinging
in counterpoint to my feet.
Here I am, suspended
between the sidewalk and twilight,
the sky dimming so fast it seems alive.
What if you felt the invisible
tug between you and everything?
A boy on a bicycle rides by,
his white shirt open, flaring
behind him like wings.
It’s a hard time to be human. We know too much
and too little. Does the breeze need us?
The cliffs? The gulls?
If you’ve managed to do one good thing,
the ocean doesn’t care.
But when Newton’s apple fell toward the earth,
the earth, ever so slightly, fell
toward the apple.