17.1.10

Polish Poet, Possibilities, and Poems of Preferences


I had the recent pleasure of coming across the poetry of Wislawa Szymborska. She won the Nobel Prize for Literature in 1996. You should totally check her out. She wrote the following poem:

Possibilities

I prefer movies.

I prefer cats.
I prefer the oaks along the Warta.
I prefer Dickens to Dostoyevsky.
I prefer myself liking people
to myself loving mankind.
I prefer keeping a needle and thread on hand, just in case.
I prefer the color green.
I prefer not to maintain
that reason is to blame for everything.
I prefer exceptions.
I prefer to leave early.
I prefer talking to doctors about something else.
I prefer the old fine-lined illustrations.
I prefer the absurdity of writing poems
to the absurdity of not writing poems.
I prefer, where love's concerned, nonspecific anniversaries
that can be celebrated every day.
I prefer moralists
who promise me nothing.
I prefer cunning kindness to the over-trustful kind.
I prefer the earth in civvies.
I prefer conquered to conquering countries.
I prefer having some reservations.
I prefer the hell of chaos to the hell of order.
I prefer Grimms' fairy tales to the newspapers' front pages.
I prefer leaves without flowers to flowers without leaves.
I prefer dogs with uncropped tails.
I prefer light eyes, since mine are dark.
I prefer desk drawers.
I prefer many things that I haven't mentioned here
to many things I've also left unsaid.
I prefer zeroes on the loose
to those lined up behind a cipher.
I prefer the time of insects to the time of stars.
I prefer to knock on wood.
I prefer not to ask how much longer and when.
I prefer keeping in mind even the possibility
that existence has its own reason for being.

I liked the idea and decided to try writing one of my own. It was really fun! I think you should try it, too. Just so you know, this is taking a lot of nerve to post mine right after hers.


I prefer natural light.
I prefer not to watch the news.
I prefer Love over everything else.
I prefer a cabin in the woods or a farmhouse in the hills.
I prefer to listen.
I prefer to sing.

I prefer possibility and chance over control.
I prefer to trust.
I prefer hand-washing the dishes.
I prefer clotheslines to dryers.
I prefer being comfortable over looking good if I must choose, but really,
I prefer both.
I prefer blending in to standing out.
I prefer not to be put on the spot.
I prefer hugs over kisses.
I prefer Jason by my side.


I prefer my feet to stay on the ground.
I prefer the sound of a wolf howling or a child laughing.
I prefer open windows and open doors.
I prefer West Texas sunsets to any other.
I prefer having my friends and family near.
I prefer the absurdity of belief to the absurdity of unbelief.
I prefer not to use umbrellas.
I prefer not to eat meat.
I prefer gnomes.

I prefer Mary Oliver poems.
I prefer picnics to fancy dinners.
I prefer rivers.
I prefer getting my hands dirty to keeping them clean.
I prefer spontaneity to plans.
I prefer trees to buildings.

I prefer wonder to expectation.
I prefer idleness to busyness.
I prefer not to be be told what to do and not to be rushed.
I prefer silliness and Dr. Seuss.
I prefer that you like me.
I prefer that I like you.
I prefer the gift of words to the gift of things.
I prefer not to confront.
I prefer peanut butter on my pancakes and waffles.
I prefer coffee black and Christmas white.
I prefer Saint Francis to any other Saint.

I prefer not to bake the cookies all the way.
I prefer dogs to cats if I must choose, but really,
I prefer both.

I prefer the morning.
I prefer Democrats and butterfats and not to deal with bureaucrats.
I prefer Granny Smith apples and crisp fall days.
I prefer keeping in mind how small I am.
I prefer kindness.
I prefer to dance.

I prefer that people stop using God as a way to justify hate.
I prefer that people accept others who are different from themselves.
I prefer that people not think they are saved and others are condemned to hell.
I prefer to think that heaven and hell are places we build in this life.
I prefer to build heaven.


4 comments:

Anonymous said...

Okay, I'm not just saying this because I love you and you're my bestie...but seriously I like your poem better than the first one you posted. Keep writing poetry! You could win the Noble Prize for literature too. And I love the pictures.

I love this line:

I prefer my coffee black and my Christmases white.

And of course I love that you mentioned peanut butter.

Anonymous said...

Okay looking back at the poem I realized I mucked up your line about coffee and Christmas. You said it better:

I prefer coffee black and Christmas white.

Ruth said...

First, I prefer the word prefer to the word like. When I first read Wislawa's (I have a volume of hers given by a friend; clearly I need to dig it out), I felt the openness of that word. It doesn't imply rejection of the other altogether. That is very nice.

I'm glad you posted yours too. And I see even more ways you are like me.

Let me try.

I prefer window light.
I prefer black & white from others but color from myself.
I prefer savory.
I prefer clipping and unclipping on the laundry line.
I prefer a satin pillow case.
I prefer down.
I prefer cotton and wool.
I prefer piano over violin.
I prefer dirt.
I prefer winter.

Ok, I prefer to stop. Mainly because my comment in the last post was so long, I wouldn't want to keep the precedent going.

cindy said...

Great post but dude you got to have the karo syrup on the pancakes and waffles.