Anthology · Canadian Culture · Canadian Literature · Classic · Collection · Compilation · Contemporary · Excerpt · Passage · Poetry · Uncategorized

Margaret Atwood

Trust me. This darkness is a place you can enter and be as safe in as you are everywhere; […] Memorize it. You will know it again in your own time. When the appearances of things have left you, you will still have this darkness. Something of your own you can carry with you. —… Continue reading Margaret Atwood

Advertisement

Rate this:

Canadian Culture · Canadian Literature · Contemporary · Passage · Poetry · Unknown Publication · Unknown Publisher · Unknown Source

Margaret Atwood

Late night and rain wakes me, a downpour,wind thrashing in the leaves, hugeears, huge feathers,like some chased animal, a giantdog or wild boar. Thunder & shiveringwindows; from the tin roofthe rush of water. I lie askew under the net,tangled in damp cloth, salt in my hair.When this clears there will be fireflies& stars, brighter than… Continue reading Margaret Atwood

Rate this:

Canadian Culture · Canadian Literature · Classic · Collection · Contemporary · Excerpt · Fragment · Passage · Poetry

Margaret Atwood

…we thought we were talkingabout a certain lightthrough the window of an empty room,a light beyond the wet black trunksof trees in this leafless forestjust before spring,a certain loss. —Margaret Atwood, from “Two-Headed Poems,” Two-Headed Poems. (Simon & Schuster March 9, 1981)

Rate this:

Canadian Culture · Canadian Literature · Classic · Collection · Contemporary · Excerpt · Fragment · Passage · Poetry

Margaret Atwood

How can one live with such a heart?Long ago I gave up singing to it,it will never be satisfied or lulled.One night I will say to it:Heart, be still,and it will. — Margaret Atwood, from “The Woman Who Could Not Live With Her Faulty Heart,” Selected Poems II (1976-1986). (Houghton Mifflin Harcourt, 1987)

Rate this:

Canadian Culture · Canadian Literature · Classic · Collection · Contemporary · Excerpt · Fragment · Passage · Poetry

Margaret Atwood

At the point where language falls awayfrom the hot bones, at the pointwhere the rock breaks open and darknessflows out of it like blood, atthe melting point of granitewhen the bones knowthey are hollow & the wordsplits & doubles & speaksthe truth & the bodyitself becomes a mouth. This is a metaphor. — Margaret Atwood,… Continue reading Margaret Atwood

Rate this:

Canadian Culture · Canadian Literature · Classic · Collection · Contemporary · Excerpt · Passage · Poetry

Margaret Atwood

Were things good then?Yes. They were good.Did you know they were good?At the time? Your time? No, because I was worryingor maybe hungryor asleep, half of those hours.Once in a while there was a pear or plumor a cup with something in it,or a white curtain, rippling,or else a hand.Also, the mellow lamplightin that antique… Continue reading Margaret Atwood

Rate this: