Dearest Deity

Satin skin

On silk sheets

My love lies

And her love leaps

Halo Hair

On handsome head

Bleeding beauty

Beside me on my bed

Pretty pupils

Peirce in pairs

Sullen spheres

Seldom stare

Dearest deity

Do thou dare

To caress me

Kindly, full of care?

Bare bosom,

Barren breast

Where my rueful

Righteousness will rightly rest.



Comments

[Nick Carraway]

The last stanza here is striking in how it differs in tone from the first few stanzas. The speaker praises the object of his desire, and then seems to chastise himself. Why is his righteousness rueful? I almost am left with the impression that despite her beauty the woman in bed does not return the speaker's praise. Her breast is barren, meaning naked or empty of affection? Does the speaker feel like he deserves to be with one who doesn't equally return his appreciation?

[James Dugan]

I like the alliteration. Like Steel Fields on the site, you have a ear for the verse. It sounds good and the tone gives the mood. I think Nick elaborates on the meaning quite well, but I believe the sound of the poem is what I enjoyed best.

Poetry surprises by its versatility. There is not one way to do it or experss it. It is like a ball that can change shape, color, and weight. Not to say it is haphazard, but its diversity in the experience whether by sound, or imagery, or meaning that can make the poem memorable. I think is the value for those who appreciate this art form and the downfall for some who criticise it.