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The Non Spaces

the
non spaces

a waif,
knows many

a waif,
knows many

who
will dress
his
wounds?

will you?

once,
the
sleeping
smile of

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poem by Tim Labbe
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Clare Market

In the market of Clare, so cheery the glare
Of the shops and the booths of the tradespeople there;
That I take a delight on a Saturday night
In walking that way and in viewing the sight.
For it's here that one sees all the objects that please--
New patterns in silk and old patterns in cheese,
For the girls pretty toys, rude alarums for boys,
And baubles galore while discretion enjoys--
But here I forbear, for I really despair
Of naming the wealth of the market of Clare.

A rich man comes down from the elegant town
And looks at it all with an ominous frown;
He seems to despise the grandiloquent cries
Of the vender proclaiming his puddings and pies;
And sniffing he goes through the lanes that disclose
Much cause for disgust to his sensitive nose;
And free of the crowd, he admits he is proud
That elsewhere in London this thing's not allowed;
He has seen nothing there but filth everywhere,

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poem by Eugene Field
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Bénédiction (Benediction)

Lorsque, par un décret des puissances suprêmes,
Le Poète apparaît en ce monde ennuyé,
Sa mère épouvantée et pleine de blasphèmes
Crispe ses poings vers Dieu, qui la prend en pitié:

— «Ah! que n'ai-je mis bas tout un noeud de vipères,
Plutôt que de nourrir cette dérision!
Maudite soit la nuit aux plaisirs éphémères
Où mon ventre a conçu mon expiation!

Puisque tu m'as choisie entre toutes les femmes
Pour être le dégoût de mon triste mari,
Et que je ne puis pas rejeter dans les flammes,
Comme un billet d'amour, ce monstre rabougri,

Je ferai rejaillir ta haine qui m'accable
Sur l'instrument maudit de tes méchancetés,
Et je tordrai si bien cet arbre misérable,
Qu'il ne pourra pousser ses boutons empestés!»

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poem by Charles Baudelaire
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The Watch At Midnight

Dead stars, beneath the midnight's granite cope
and round your dungeon-gulf that blindly grope
and fall not, since no lower than any place
needs when the wing is dash'd and foil'd the face:
is this your shadow on the watcher's thought
imposed, or rather hath his anguish taught
the dumb and suffering dark to send you out,
reptile, the doubles of his lurking doubt,
in coasts of night that well might be supposed
the exiled hall of chaos late-deposed,
to haunt across this hour's desuetude,
immense, that whelms in monumental mood
the broad waste of his spirit, stonily
strewn with the wreck of his eternity?

The plumes of night, unfurl'd
and eyed with fire, are whirl'd
slowly above this watch, funereal:
the vast is wide, and yet
no way lies open; set

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poem by Christopher John Brennan
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I've never been a waif; I have a womanly figure and always did.

quote by Joely Fisher
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The man without a purpose is like a ship without a rudder - waif, a nothing, a no man. Have a purpose in life, and, having it, throw such strength of mind and muscle into your work as God has given you.

quote by Thomas Carlyle
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A man with a half volition goes backwards and forwards, and makes no way on the smoothest road a man with a whole volition advances on the roughest, and will reach his purpose, if there be even a little worthiness in it. The man without a purpose is like a ship without a rudder - a waif, a nothing, a no man. Have a purpose in life and having it, throw such strength of mind and muscle into your work as God has given you.

quote by Thomas Carlyle
Added by Lucian Velea
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Apollo Laughs

'APOLLO laughs,' the proverb tells,
Far echo of old oracles,
A Delphic waif, —'Once in the year,
Apollo laughs.' O laughter clear
As sunshine, blithe as golden bells!
What mortal folly parallels
Olympian jest and so impels
To mirth till Heaven's bright charioteer,
Apollo, laughs?
'Tis when the annual critic knells
The death of poetry, while swells
Some faint, fresh wood-note, pioneer
Of music earth shall thrill to hear.
Then at Apollo's infidels
Apollo laughs.

poem by Katharine Lee Bates
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I Love You

I love your eyes,
I love your smile,
I love your laugh,
Im glad we waited awhile.

You are the love of my life,
the straw to my berry,
the day to my dreams,
It is better then it seems.

We are the perfect couple,
we will fight,
we will laugh,
but you are my other half.

When I look into your eyes,
I see your in love,
When we cuddle I feel safe,
And I dont feel like a waif.

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poem by Angelina Sabia
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A Widow

A lonely pebble on a distant beach,
A castaway, tossed out of reach.
A solitary burden on this earth left,
A wanderer now, and so bereft.
A double act, once upon a time,
A feeling I'm not worth a dime.
A widow, struggling all alone,
A life instantly turned to stone.
A waif, a stray, lost and forlorn,
A heart so hurt, fragile and torn.
A someone once, a no one now,
A resolve to make it through somehow.
A faith, that life won't be in vain,
A trust, that in heaven we'll meet again.

poem by Ernestine Northover
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