Four poems that show a sweet philosophical side to the master of caustic wit. Proving unequivocally, that Dorothy Parker was not just a brilliant social critic, but a great writer, of depth and insight.
Thought For A Sunshiny Morning
A funny meditation about payback at the simplest, most rudimentary level; as Parker remarks on her joyous and careless murder of worms.
Aha, my little dear, I say,
Your clan will pay me back one day.
Garden-Spot
A poignant poem tracing the arc of a life, originating in the youthful adoration of a Summer's flowering garden, lovingly recreated by the poet.
She sat there often, of the Summer days,
Little and slim and sweet, among the dead,
Through the years of neglect and places left untended, age removes the glow; and the memories grow tainted.
I see her gentle fingers on the moss
Now it is anguish to remember them.
The poet bears witness to the regret and longing of one who suffers from a sentimental heart.
And walked a way and turned to look around...
Knowing even in death, the garden-spot will never possess her, the way she once possessed it.
She shall not lie in consecrated ground.
A Dream Lies Dead
A dark turn cautions onlookers to avert their eyes away from the tragic demise of a dream deferred.
A dream lies dead here. May you softly go...
Mrs. Parker writes these lines with the authority of an artist who knows of which she speaks; further cautioning readers to curb their inclination to look for signs of life; per chance that a dream can never truly die; Mrs. Parker insists it can, and does.
Nor seek to know the look of that which dies
Importuning Life for life...
A dream lies dead; and this all mourners know...
One little loveliness can be no more...
Epitaph
Written in couplets, Epitaph is a clever experiment, opening with a wonderfully evocative notion.
The first time I died...
Upon return, from a certain death, one dare not pause to long, in observance.
...I dared not look on the new moon's cup.
The previous line leads the reader to consider Mrs. Parker may be referring to mental illness and/or emotional instability; further insinuated in the next couplet.
I dared not look on the sweet young rain,
And between my ribs was a gleaming pain.
The next time she dies, the poet encourages a literal reading; as she is taken to be truly gone, and buried in words and flowers. But, only for one couplet, as the closing lines return to the symbolic; achingly beautiful and rich with subtext.
And I lie here warm, and I lie here dry,
And watch the worms slip by, slip by.
Read these and other poems by Dorothy Parker at FamousPoetsandPoems.Com
Also, read Dorothy Parker reviews: Three Night Poems and Tombstones in the Starlight
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