Featured Poem: Fireworks by Amy Lowell

This week's Featured Poem has been inspired by the recent explosive events - following on from Guy Fawkes Night last week - we're partly surprised the smoke still isn't swirling in the atmosphere...

Often when we talk about 'fireworks' between people it's usually a good sign - think of that slightly strange phrase 'they got on like a house on fire'. Yet in this case the metaphorical explosions are far more disruptive. Perhaps hate - or a strong dislike - of someone or something fuels us as much as love, and there certainly are some evocative descriptions in this poem by Amy Lowell. Perhaps it will spark off some interest for you at the beginning of this week.

Fireworks

You hate me and I hate you
And we are so polite, we two!

But whenever I see you, I burst apart
And scatter the sky with my bursting heart.
It spits and sparkles in the stars and balls,
Buds into roses – and flares and falls.

Scarlet buttons, and pale green disks,
Silver spirals and asterisks,
Shoot and tremble in a mist
Peppered with mauve and amethyst.

I shine in the windows and light up the trees
And all because I hate you, if you please.

And when you meet me, you rend asunder
And go up in a flaming wonder
Of saffron cubes and crimson moons,
And wheels all amaranths and maroons.

Gold lozenges and spades
Arrows of malachites and jades,
Patens of copper, azure sheaves
As you mount, you flash in glossy leaves.

Such fireworks as we make, we two!
Because you hate me and I hate you.

Amy Lowell