Thursday, 8 January 2015

"Je suis Charlie" / Meeting Space / Peach


Would you like to throw a stone at me? 
Here, take all that's left of my peach. 

Blood-red, deep;
Heaven knows how it came to pass. 
Somebody's pound of flesh rendered up. 

Wrinkled with secrets 
And hard with the intention to keep them. 

Why, from silvery peach-bloom,
From that shallow silvery wine-glass on a short stem 
This rolling, dropping, heavy globule?

I am thinking, of course, of the peach before I ate it. 

Why so velvety, why so voluptuous heavy? 
Why hanging with such inordinate weight? 
Why so indented? 

Why the groove? 
Why the lovely, bivalve roundnesses?
Why the ripple down the sphere?
Why the suggestion of incision? 

Why was not my peach round and finished like a billiard ball? 
It would have been if man had made it. 
Though I've eaten it now. 

But it wasn't round and finished like a billiard ball. 
And because I say so, you would like to throw something at me. 

Here, you can have my peach stone. 

D. H. Lawrence 
1885 -1930 Vence


  1. That is not a poem I have read before Gwil. I may read it at our poetry meeting as it is so beautiful.

    1. Thanks Pat, I'm sure the group will enjoy it.

  2. Earlier I visited here and saw the empty chairs and found it very moving and it made me feel also very silent.

    I just returned and saw the Peach poem. It seems to fit with my post that I have just put up, the smiling Moslem man I met in Macedonia who was so happy to show me around his Mosque.. The peach is simple and pleasurable in its own way and says it all.

  3. Rachel, Let him who would throw the first stone first eat his peach.


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