A Spiritual Woman

Close your eyes, my love, let me make you blind;
They have taught you to see
Only a mean arithmetic on the face of things,
A cunning algebra in the faces of men,
And God like geometry
Completing his circles, and working cleverly.

I’ll kiss you over the eyes till I kiss you blind;
If I can—if any one could.
Then perhaps in the dark you’ll have got what you want to find.
You’ve discovered so many bits, with your clever eyes,
And I’m a kaleidoscope
That you shake and shake, and yet it won’t come to your mind.
Now stop carping at me.—But God, how I hate you!
Do you fear I shall swindle you?
Do you think if you take me as I am, that that will abate you
Somehow?—so sad, so intrinsic, so spiritual, yet so cautious, you
Must have me all in your will and your consciousness—
I hate you.

by David Herbert Lawrence

Comments (4)

Once again, as always, the appeal to simplicity. Poetry in Billy Collins' mind should be easy. No difficult titles, please, like The Waste Land or Ozymandius or Gerontion. No! We have to be spoon-fed this retiree pablum so that our baby teeth don't hurt too much. Awwwww, wittle wittle baby, here's a poem for baby!
What happened over the years that we have come to value obscurity over clarity. Perhaps in the name of structure, rhyming, metaphor. Perhaps just a matter of ego. If you are as smart as me you will get it. If not well..... What is gained by writing a poem that requires a degree in literature and the mastery of three languages, two of them dead, to be comprehensible? ?
wow i will give you a +10
I've run out of superlatives...