En.Citatepedia^®.ro

Landscape With The Fall Of Icarus

According to Brueghel
when Icarus fell
it was spring

a farmer was ploughing
his field
the whole pageantry

of the year was
awake tingling
near

the edge of the sea
concerned
with itself

sweating in the sun
that melted
the wings' wax

unsignificantly
off the coast
there was

a splash quite unnoticed
this was
Icarus drowning

poem by William Carlos Williams
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the recent fall of Icarus

i was busy talking to you
about poetry and too sad
we did not bother listening
to the recent fall of Icarus

what i heard later was that
Icarus did not die

He is alive and so thankful
of his melted wax wings

the radar did not detect him
and so here he is knocking
at my door
asking for a little time
to be with us in this
safe house

it was his father who was shot
because he was
shouting.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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When Icarus Did Fall

When Icarus did fall
his wings were scorched,
when Icarus did fall
a bolt of lightning did strike him
in the sea near to a island,
to help him there were nobody
when Icarus did fall

poem by Gert Strydom
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Icarus Fell

Icarus tried to feel wonderful,
He could try at least to fly,
But instigators of happiness were beautiful.

Instead of flight, the tragic became
A comical effect as he flew
And wings were aflutter and warm.

Near the ocean, his Sun was against him,
For dripping was the oil into ocean,
And diving was the maniac, all numb.

Icarus is still aiming for life,
But he sighs and he drowns,
With water as his foe and wife.

poem by Naveed Akram
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Daedalus And Icarus

Daedalus says:

Go on sonny but remember that you are walking and not flying
the wings are just an ornament and you are stepping on a meadow
that warm gust is just the humid earth of summer
and that cold one is a brook
the sky is full of leaves and small animals

Icarus says:

The eyes like two stones return straight to earth
and see a farmer who knocks asunder oily till
a grub which wiggles in a furrow
bad grub which cuts the bond of a plant with the earth

Daedalus says:

Sonny this is not true The Cosmos is merely light
and earth is a bowl of shadows Look as here colors play
dust rises from above the sea smoke rises to the sky
of noblest atoms a rainbow sets itself now

Icarus says:

Arms hurt father from this beating at vacuum
legs are getting numb and miss thorns and sharp stones
I cannot keep looking at the sun as you do father
I sunken whole in the dark rays of the earth

Description of the catastrophe:

Now Icarus falls down head first
the last frame of him is a glimpse of a heal childlike small
being swallowed by the devouring sea
Up above the father cries out the name
which no longer belongs to a neck or a head
but only to a remembrance

Commentary:

He was so young did not understand that wings are just a metaphor
a bit of wax and feathers and a contempt for the laws of gravitation
I cannot hold a body at an elevation of a great many feet
The essence of the matter is in having our hearts
which are coursed by heavy blood
fill with air
and this very thing Icarus did not want to accept

let us pray

poem by Zbigniew Herbert
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Failing and Flying

Everyone forgets that Icarus also flew.
It's the same when love comes to an end,
or the marriage fails and people say
they knew it was a mistake, that everybody
said it would never work. That she was
old enough to know better. But anything
worth doing is worth doing badly.
Like being there by that summer ocean
on the other side of the island while
love was fading out of her, the stars
burning so extravagantly those nights that
anyone could tell you they would never last.
Every morning she was asleep in my bed
like a visitation, the gentleness in her
like antelope standing in the dawn mist.
Each afternoon I watched her coming back
through the hot stony field after swimming,
the sea light behind her and the huge sky
on the other side of that. Listened to her
while we ate lunch. How can they say
the marriage failed? Like the people who
came back from Provence (when it was Provence)
and said it was pretty but the food was greasy.
I believe Icarus was not failing as he fell,
but just coming to the end of his triumph.

poem by Jack Gilbert
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To A Friend Whose Work Has Come To Triumph

Consider Icarus, pasting those sticky wintgs on,
testing that strange little tug at his shoulder blade,
and think of that first flawless moment over the lawn
of the labyrinth. Think of the difference it made!
There below are the trees, as awkward as camels;
and here are the shocked starlings pumping past
and think of innocent Icarus who is doing quite well:
larger than a sail, over the fog and the blast
of the plushy ocean, he goes. Admire his wings!
Feel the fire at his neck and see how casually
he glances up and is caught, wondrously tunneling
into that hot eye. Who cares that feel back to the sea?
See him acclaiming the sun and come plunging down
while his sensible daddy goes straight into town.

poem by Anne Sexton
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Waning Cynical

Saturdays at the patisserie,
I sometimes burn my arms, wrists or hands,
balancing hot pie trays and dodging chefs.
New scars overlie old, pink on brown on white.
I'm middle-aged Icarus with singed bat-wings,
in the slow burn of everyday life.
I plan on drowning in dementia,
I enjoy a good melodrama.

poem by Diane Hine
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Love Sonnet 13 As Wings Would Take To Skies For Lofty Flights

As wings would take to skies for lofty flights,
And waves would roll, ardent, towards the shore,
Would I, my love, pursue the pure delights,
Which once bestowed, I could not care for more;
We'll not aspire to soar, reaching the sun,
To fall Icarus-like on melted wings,
Nor sail the seas upon the waves we shun,
Except in calm, such as Poseidon brings;
But with your loving care throughout the years,
I'll have the bliss that every blessed owns,
And this fond heart to highest heaven swears,
Will have its fill of mirth without the clowns;
......This story ends, like most, might get retold,
......Yet like the skies and waves, it can't grow old.

poem by Reyvrex Questor Reyes
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Lovely To His Eyes (Hybridanelle)

A farmer walks up to his horse and it is spring again
in the distance there’s ploughing red Massy Ferguson tractor
and he bridles the horse and there is pain

His son is out there tracking the field
seems young, vital and strong
and it’s as if he has now got to yield

and the earth is soft underfoot after the rain.
and he’s still the administrator.
A farmer walks up to his horse and it is spring again

and he still has some power to wield
and his eyes measure the ploughed field, the smell of fresh earth,
seems young, vital and strong

and he wonders how many years still remain
but the ache reminds him of the words of the doctor
and he bridles the horse and there is pain

that surrounds him, almost like a token of new birth
and the ardent Arabic horse knows its master well
and his eyes measure the ploughed field, the smell of fresh earth

and stretched out lies the farm that he has to maintain
and on the house’s thatched roof gleams the lightening conductor.
A farmer walks up to his horse and it is spring again

and he horse acts with love, as if under his spell
and life is really great under the sun, wind and sky
and the ardent Arabic horse knows its master well

and from riding horses he have got to abstain,
but he keeps his face pleasant like that of an actor
and he bridles the horse and there is pain

everything is familiar like any other day, where he is saddled high
and he feels full of spirit
and life is really great under the sun, wind and sky

the farm stretches out lovely to his eyes without a stain
and he rides to the chicken coop and the incubator.
A farmer walks up to his horse and it is spring again
and he bridles the horse and there is pain

and probably soon his only child will inherit.
His son is out there tracking the field
and he feels full of spirit
and it’s as if he has now got to yield.

poem by Gert Strydom
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The Icarus Of Housewives, Circa 1981

From ashtrays he rises
when birds in backyards
have been fed their seed,
a dove amid the starlings.
In smoke filled stupor we stare.

Icarus climbs our stairs,
waves his muscled arms
in doorways mimicking
the starlings in stocking feet.
He feels his way blindly
down hallways, a whirlwind
of feathers trailing behind.

And one day like any other day,
bedroom windows open,
he is gone into the sun to
make his movements golden,
to steel his flight a monument
of silver in the sky over Cleveland,
over Chicago, the Dakota plains.

And we are still reeling.

Come back.
Come back, Icarus.
Plead our case to the sun
but do not fly too close.

And it is a day like any other day
we lose him to a solar flare.
All our litigation cannot raise him up again,
our curtains closed in protest to the sun.

poem by Warren Falcon
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Blending With The Sky Again

clouds colored black

Rising from the earth

Floating on red skies

The sun Is gray

Rectangular to the

Earth shaped like

An ovum

A splash in the sea

Like an inverted comma

He is Icarus

He just drowned

They do not think

It is me

The sea is not green

It is blacker than black

I am trying to be

Off-white for you

To see.

But you can’t

You did not try

Thinking hard enough.

You have no time

For this

For me

Or anything else.

Sometimes I think

I should have

Grown myself

As the suicide bomber

And then explode

Inside you.

Perhaps you

Will notice me

Finally.

My

Color must not

Be red.

I may

Blend with the

Red sky again.

poem by Ric S. Bastasa
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Worlds Apart

I am the only one to blame for this
Somehow it all adds up the same
Soaring on the wings of selfish pride
I flew too high and like Icarus I collide
With a world I try so hard to leave behind
To rid myself of all but love
to give and die

To turn away and not become
Another nail to pierce the skin of one who loves
more deeply than the oceans

song performed by by Jars Of Clay from Jars Of Clay
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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Politician - Parody after Stephen SPENDER - Airman

Politician

He will watch the poll with no indifferent eye,
most pitifully, -
not on those voters who once cheered him, now
will strain his brow.
Weapons men use, mud-slinging, smear, tapped telephone,
all these he’s known.

This aristocrat, superb, until instinct
with death close-linked,
had faced the amorphous crowd, almost had won
war on the sun, ...
til now, ... like Icarus mid-ocean drowned,
his hopes unfound.

[c] Jonathan Robin parody written 7 August 1991 after Stephen SPENDER 1909_1995 - Airman

Airman

He will watch the hawk with an indifferent eye
Or pitifully:
Nor on those eagles that so feared him, now
Will strain his brow;
Weapons men use, stone, sling, and strong-thewed bow
He will not know.

This aristocrat, superb of all instinct,
With death close-linked
Had paced the enormous cloud, almost had won
War on the sun;
Till now, like Icarus mid-ocean drowned,
Hands, wings, are found.

Stephen SPENDER 1909_1995

poem by Jonathan Robin
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Freedom

I do not want happiness.
A little space is all that I want,
and a little freedom
to stretch my almost numb limbs.
My wings are broken now
My dreams all dead.

I would rather be Icarus,
fly high to the sun, escape the double death,
of life in this prison
where my dreams
meet their slow death everyday.

poem by Aimanu Begum
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A Dirge For Icarus

Flying upon waxen wings-
Pride induced
The world apathetically
Dismissing-
His tumble to the watery dirge below

To be like
To be a
God
Having choked on swollen pride
Plummeting to the very depths
The tide rolls in to tell the tale
of Icarus damned
By self, pride-
the harshest idol
Man hath known.

poem by Denis Kucharski
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Icarus returns
wheels with overbearing pride
until waxed wing burns.

haiku by Jonathan Robin (10 January 1993)
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On a wing and a prayer

Icarus
has had a bad press
throughout history
as some sort of moral metaphor
for a man who challenged
Intelligent Design
and/or the gods
and failed, in a narrow-minded view

A young man’s ambition
and perhaps devotion
drew him towards the heavens
why not
and science had not developed very far
so how was he to know
except by experiment

I’d like to think that as he dropped
out of a cloudless Greek sky
out of mythology
out of Breughel’s painting
out of Auden’s mindfulness

he was caught before the third and last bobbing up
by a bevy of compassionate mermaids
and returned gently to land
to live again perhaps under
an assumed name

while the mermaids sang to each other his story
across the seven seas
who whispered it to men
in the off-shore breeze
as a moral story telling how

heartfelt prayer always reaches heaven
there to be taken into account
but science is dodgy, make sure
you get it right and
it will be your servant

and when one day with heaven’s consent
you build a better vehicle to ‘conquer’ space
though how untrue a phrase
perhaps Apollo would be
a safer name since Icarus Two
somehow doesn’t have that ring about it.

poem by Michael Shepherd
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Mr. Cogito and the Imagination

Mr. Cogito never trusted
tricks of the imagination

the piano at the top of the Alps
played false concerts for him

he didn't appreciate labyrinths
the Sphinx filled him with loathing

he lived in a house with no basement
without mirrors of dialectics

jungles of tangled images
were not his home

he would rarely soar
on the wings of metaphor
and then he fell like Icarus
into the embrace of the Great Mother

he adored tautologies
explanations
idem per idem

that a bird is a bird
slavery means slavery
a knife is a knife
death remains death

he loved
the flat horizon
a straight line
the gravity of the earth

poem by Zbigniew Herbert
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Outlets

Splatter
Splash

A single droplet
Glistens

Splatter
Splash

It slowly runs
Down

Splatter
Splash

The gentle kiss of
Cool metal

Splatter
Splash

Nipping at the
Skin

Splatter
Splash

A network of
Webs

Splatter
Splash

A beautiful pattern
Turning red

Splatter
Splash

Hidden in the
Fabric

Splatter
Splash

Reinf orced
By the grin

Splatter
Splash

Walking on
Nothing's wrong

Splatter
Splash

Only everything
Is

poem by Autumn Winds
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Splash

I called you on the phone
You knew it was me all along
You didn't even say hello
Cause you don't need words to let me know
All the things that you do to me
You fulfill my every fantasy
Splash - I'm under your power
Splash - I could go for hours
Splash - You could devour me
And I'd only want you more
Oh, when you make love to me
There's things I never thought I'd see
I cherish [...]
[...] in every sea
Oh, I love when you play with me
Ask your mom if you could stay with me
Splash - I'm under your power
Splash - I could go for hours
Splash - You could devour me
And I'd only want you more
Our love is a rhythm
Together we'll have so much fun
You go from room to room
Leaving traces of your sweet perfume
If I could I'd bottle it
Everybody should know the feelin' I get
When I'm in your cool embrace
Your lips, your arms, your legs, your face
Splash - I'm under your power
Splash - I could go for hours
Splash - You could devour me
And I'd only want you more
I want you more and more and more
Splash
Splash
Splash
Splash
Splash
Splash.

song performed by by Prince
Submitted by Lucian Velea
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