The Eyes of a Tiger,
is nothing special.
It is the Fang of a Tiger,
the Claw of a Tiger,
or so I thought
until I saw,
the Eyes of a Tiger
and without it moving
I felt those fangs,
sink into my neck
and I felt those claws,
raking open my chest,
exposing my still beating heart
without the Tiger moving,
without it touching me once
It ate me,
whole
For the Fangs and the Claws
that rake and tear and kill,
begins
within the Eyes
of a Tiger
For reasons unknown to myself, this poem moved me deeply. Thanks for your expressivity! There could be so many interpretations... I feel dizzy.
ReplyDeleteI think good poetry should never have clear ideas on why you like it, so I will take that as a great compliment!
Deleteyh I think this is amazing too when I was reading it I was trying to interpret it in my opinion but it's just to hard lol well my feelings on this was that people take advantage of a tigers beauty, in my opinion this is like when a tiger is out hunting it's prey or when someone forgets what a tiger truly is from it's beauty that they could still hunt you down and devour your flesh that's my thoughts on it anyway
ReplyDeleteYes, true, true. And I always think that true intentions lie in the eyes.
DeleteRidiculously by chance, I've just read two books mentioning the poem "Tiger, tiger" from William Blake. How cool is that?
ReplyDeleteYour tiger's eyes have been now haunting me for two weeks, so I had to read again your poem late at night, when no-one watches, and eat the forbidden fruit.
What a beautiful complement to Blake's poem. Funny enough, in parallel, I've been obsessing on Kim Hong-Do's outstanding painting: http://upload.wikimedia.org/wikipedia/commons/e/ef/Songhamaenghodo.jpg
Ha, I'm just awed by your awesomeness.
"TIGER, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Could frame thy fearful symmetry?
In what distant deeps or skies
Burnt the fire of thine eyes?
On what wings dare he aspire?
What the hand dare seize the fire?
And what shoulder and what art
Could twist the sinews of thy heart?
And when thy heart began to beat,
What dread hand and what dread feet?
What the hammer? what the chain?
In what furnace was thy brain?
What the anvil? What dread grasp
Dare its deadly terrors clasp?
When the stars threw down their spears,
And water'd heaven with their tears,
Did He smile His work to see?
Did He who made the lamb make thee?
Tiger, tiger, burning bright
In the forests of the night,
What immortal hand or eye
Dare frame thy fearful symmetry?"
William Blake, The Tiger
Wow, I am in awe of your love for this poem. It makes me humble and grateful that you like my poem so much.
DeleteIt is funny you mention Kim Hong-Do's painting of the tiger for it was exactly this painting that inspired my poem. That, and human nature.
Thank you again.
wow I remember that poem by william blake
ReplyDelete