Thursday, June 26, 2008

Poetry Project

I'm not a big fan of Carl Sandburg, at least of his lauded, earlier work. It always seemed so depressing to me, though I realize it was a timely social comment when he wrote it. I much prefer his later poems, which I think were written more for their own sake than to effect any cosmic shift in politics or the workings of industrialism. I like this one because I like poems about the sea (which I find very inspiring myself).

Young Sea
by Carl Sandburg

The sea is never still.
It pounds on the shore
Restless as a young heart,
Hunting.

The sea speaks
And only the stormy hearts
Know what it says:
It is the face
of a rough mother speaking.

The sea is young.
One storm cleans all the hoar
And loosens the age of it.
I hear it laughing, reckless.

They love the sea,
Men who ride on it
And know they will die
Under the salt of it

Let only the young come,
Says the sea.
Let them kiss my face
And hear me.
I am the last word
And I tell
Where storms and stars come from.

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