A poetic interlude with Theodore Roethke

All things rolling away from me,
All shapes, all stones,
My face falling from itself,
Sunken, like cratered snow,
My voice, lost, a lark
Grating like a jay.
As for you, assassin of air,
Noise in the topmost tree,
Articulated despair,
The inhuman ecstasy:
My lament to the last; unloved…


I, in exile, forever
For that which I would acquire no longer is, never existed.


I belong to my solitude.
I shall die for myself.

Roethke, somewhere between 1959 and 1963

Ludes, past:

Sharon Olds, 1.
Billy Collins, 1.
Ounsi El Hage, 1.
Henri Michaux, 1, 2.
Marianne Moore, 1.
Pablo Neruda, 1.
Theodore Roethke, 1, 2, 3, 4.
Dylan Thomas, 1.
Richard Wilbur, 1, 2, 3.


2 Replies to “A poetic interlude with Theodore Roethke”

  1. love these ludes, past and present. must especially read more roethke before these eyes roll away from me.

  2. “Individus ou groupes, nous sommes faits the lignes, et ces lignes sont de nature très diverse.”

    “The essential thing… is the noun multiplicity, which designates a set of lines or dimensions, which are irreducible to one another… In a multiplicity what counts are not the terms or the elements, but what there is in ‘between’, the between, a set of relations which are not separable from each other.”

    (Gilles Deleuze, Dialogues)

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