Did You Love Well What Very Soon You Left? by Marilyn Hacker Did you love well what very soon you left, Come home and take me in your arms and take away this stomach ache, headache, heartache. Never so full, I never was bereft so utterly. The winter evenings drift dark to the window. Not one word will make you, where you are, turn in your day, or wake from your night toward me. The only gift I got to keep or give is what I've cried, floodgates let down to mourning for the dead chances
rifts and scars of children whose parents took turns slapping, deriding, ignoring, bullying, or, sometimes worse, simply abandoning them; when one observes the wholesale life mismanagement of grown-ups who have lived for years in the shadow of their bereft childhood and who have attempted with one adductor after another to fill up those empty places where love should have settled, only to discover that their adductor keeps enlarging the very void it was meant to fill — when one knows people of this
My monument is progressing. Bereft is thy deed of completion. By all means you'll be alive but not intact. I've sewn your lips to smile in abnormally disfigured designs. You observe the genesis of my abarroir. Reality accepted you have no choice, but to comply with my scalpel and my license to kill. Final seepage flowing I can't repress the urge. Thy coprophagists shall ingurgitate the filth. Grinding at your head with my bone saw, breaking zygoma. I love these tools at my disposal. I'm alive she
wisdom only. No doubt, man has numerous achievements to his credit, but his thinking and attitude have not found a change. One must improve his behaviour and be exalted. However, this is possible only if man unites with the Truth. Bereft of truth, man remains bereft of humanity. Those who attain the truth while there is time make their life meaningful. They imbibe love, compassion and co-operation. They are guided by the spirit of oneness for all. Naturally, they impress everyone with their behaviour
to anyone. Phoebe is perhaps the only reminder that Holden still has the capacity to love. When he looks at her, he cannot help but feel the same tortured love that he felt for Allie. Nevertheless, the surges of these feelings leave him even more bereft. He knows he must leave Phoebe to protect himself, but when she shows up to accompany him on his journey, ultimately he puts his love for her first and sacrifices his own instinct to flee in order to return home.
gain confidence in our abilities believe in them and when we have a positive healthy self image will others respect us.. The worst loneliness is not to be comfortable with ones own self thus life without self respect is not worth giving because it is bereft of all dignity.
humans. An epic hero can also be a warrior of some sort who performs extraordinary tasks that most find difficult. This hero is strong, smart, and brave. VOCAB.-plundered: took goods by force. –Dispatched: finished quickly. – Assuage: calm; pacify. –Bereft: deprived. – Ardor: passion; enthusiasm. – Insidious: characterized by craftiness and betrayal. – Dissemble: disguise. – Incredulity: inability to believe. – Bemusing: stupefying or muddling. – Equity: fairness; justice. – Maudlin: tearfully and foolishly
the idea that no body as the same idea of what an ideal home is as everyone as a different interpretation of ‘comfort’ in a home. The idea of lose is explored in poem through the use of words such as ‘bereft’ and ‘withers’ which shows that home wants to win back its former inhabitants as it ‘bereft’ of anyone to please it . Personification of home such as ‘it stays as it was left’ adds to the sensitivity created in the poem and when the home ‘withers’ it is almost as though the house is dying because
exhibit moral conundrums that enhance its relevance for a modern day context. Scott’s texts through the exploitation of intertextuality and imagery outlines the unethical nature of slavery and the commodification of human existence within a morally bereft dystopia detached from the natural, “That's what its like to be a slave”. Contrastingly, Frankenstein deals more closely with the transformation of beliefs in relation to creation, which reveals the postindustrial context. Set in the European age
emotions bereft of their pathological characters we have one enjoyment of ‘joy’. It is for this reason in the experience over tragedy we find as much enjoyment as in that of a comedy, for the experience of a grief would have been unpalatable if it was associated with its pathological consequences. These pathological consequences are always due to a sense of self-struggle, self-motivation, loss and the like. But in the intuition of the Rasa we live through the experience of a pure sentiment bereft of all