Thursday, June 2, 2011

Stop All the Clocks

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.

-W.H. Auden

5 comments:

  1. I pulled a book of poetry off the shelf and read this very poem yesterday afternoon. It's on the couch right now. XXOO

    ReplyDelete
  2. Rachel FrothinghamJune 3, 2011 at 12:51 PM

    ron, i was thinking of this too. how dare the sun shine. xo

    ReplyDelete
  3. I know it's become a cliche, but this is how I'm feeling things right now. I see Ken in a lot of things around me. I talk to him still.


    Do not stand at my grave and weep
    I am not there; I do not sleep.
    I am a thousand winds that blow,
    I am the diamond glints on snow,
    I am the sun on ripened grain,
    I am the gentle autumn rain.
    When you awaken in the morning's hush
    I am the swift uplifting rush
    Of quiet birds in circled flight.
    I am the soft stars that shine at night.
    Do not stand at my grave and cry,
    I am not there; I did not die.

    ReplyDelete
  4. What Rebecca said. And, love DOES last forever, it's just not in the physical container we know now. Ken is surrounding you with love in everything around you, speaking to you through the things you shared when he was on earth.

    ReplyDelete