酷我-北美枫

[ericcoliu]

Mourning John Updike


John Updike (March 18, 1932 – January 27, 2009), considered one of the most prominent contemporary American writers and known for his Rabbit series, died of lung cancer on Tuesday in Danvers, Mass., at age of 76.

The following is his poem, entitled "Requiem," which is taken from his forthcoming collection, Endpoint and Other Poems:


Requiem by John Updike (Via NYT)


It came to me the other day:
Were I to die, no one would say,
“Oh, what a shame! So young, so full
Of promise — depths unplumbable!”
Instead, a shrug and tearless eyes
Will greet my overdue demise;
The wide response will be, I know,
“I thought he died a while ago.”
For life’s a shabby subterfuge,
And death is real, and dark, and huge.
The shock of it will register
Nowhere but where it will occur.
_________________
Time is nothing but a disquiet of the soul

[[ericcoliu]]

Mourning John Updike


John Updike (March 18, 1932 – January 27, 2009), considered one of the most prominent contemporary American writers and known for his Rabbit series, died of lung cancer on Tuesday in Danvers, Mass., at age of 76.

The following is his poem, entitled "Requiem," which is taken from his forthcoming collection, Endpoint and Other Poems:


Requiem by John Updike (Via NYT)


It came to me the other day:
Were I to die, no one would say,
“Oh, what a shame! So young, so full
Of promise — depths unplumbable!”
Instead, a shrug and tearless eyes
Will greet my overdue demise;
The wide response will be, I know,
“I thought he died a while ago.”
For life’s a shabby subterfuge,
And death is real, and dark, and huge.
The shock of it will register
Nowhere but where it will occur.
_________________
Time is nothing but a disquiet of the soul

[ericcoliu]

Below is my response to his concluding lines “For life’s a shabby subterfuge, / And death is real, and dark, and huge. / The shock of it will register / Nowhere but where it will occur:”


Breath by ericcoliu


I

Live with the living,
die with the dead;
but for him -- limbo.


II

We all, even Jesus,
go six feet under.
Why do you struggle?


III

Living or dying,
I strive for those,
the spaces in between.


Note:

I just added a discussion thread on John Updike’s work to English Garden. Sure hope you join in our Updike discussion.
_________________
Time is nothing but a disquiet of the soul

[[ericcoliu]]

Below is my response to his concluding lines “For life’s a shabby subterfuge, / And death is real, and dark, and huge. / The shock of it will register / Nowhere but where it will occur:”


Breath by ericcoliu


I

Live with the living,
die with the dead;
but for him -- limbo.


II

We all, even Jesus,
go six feet under.
Why do you struggle?


III

Living or dying,
I strive for those,
the spaces in between.


Note:

I just added a discussion thread on John Updike’s work to English Garden. Sure hope you join in our Updike discussion.
_________________
Time is nothing but a disquiet of the soul