Two Poems

Stephanie Strickland

Simone Demystifies Mercy

1

Helping someone, not to be obliged to think
about them anymore, or for the pleasure
of feeling how far

2

from them, how far from that, you
are: ordinary
charity is a form of cruelty.

3

To feel,
the soul must divide: one point in it
impassible, proof against

4

contagion; all the rest polluted
to an extreme—
by the swollen heart

5

breaking. Mercy is
strained, nailed between two poles.
It is easier

6

for us to feel pity,
mixed with horror
& repulsion.

Simone Weil, 1909-1943

This poem is forthcoming in V, to be published by Penguin Putnam in the fall of 2002.

The Interior Castle

“Appearances do not deceive, if there are enough of them,”
Laura Riding, Anarchism.
A fact

is a failure of two things to be identical—that’s
the fact. There is the freedom &
moodiness

of the body—only my left foot droops
toward the other when lying
on my back, mute memory possesses me

inside
its neural splash; whereas the mind
of the mystics

is ever
prompt & practical. Bond-slaves of the normal,
they. “I will follow

my nose,” they say and ride out laughing—
“No, I will retrace
my

steps.”
Always that note. “It pleased
not

my lord abbot, this
lightness in
me."

Visit Stephanie Strickland as Image Artist of the Month for March '02

Issue #23 • Summer 1999