You are one of the few poets I love to read. I am not particularly fond of most poetry. In school it always seemed like a contest: "Who can grasp the meaning of all these muddled words first? You will win a prize...acknowledged intellect!" Stanza after stanza of convoluted meaning. I always wanted to yell at the page "Just say what you bloody mean already!" But your poetry is direct, blunt and piercing. Achingly beautiful in its simplicity. Your words have meant different things to me throughout the years. For example, this has had different layers of meaning for me, depending on the man of the moment weighing heavily on my heart:
I shall forget you presently, my dear,
So make the most of this, your little day,
Your little month, your little half a year,
Ere I forget, or die, or move away,
And we are done forever; by and by
I shall forget you, as I said, but now
If you entreat me with your loveliest lie
I will protest you with my favourite vow.
But this has always been the same - always the same cry to live life fully:
My candle burns at both ends;
It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends -
It gives a lovely light!
The life you lived was an inspiration and a cautionary tale. You were, on the one hand, a trailblazer, on the other, yet another divinely talented artist who did a bunch of interesting things before she died too young. But your words live on, making generation after generation think and feel. It is like achieving immortality, to command a person's emotions from beyond the grave. For a writer, I can imagine no greater thing. Thank you for making me feel.
Sincerely,
PC
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