W.H. Auden, "The Cave of Making"

Three excerpts from Auden's "The Cave of Making." The first two relate to poetry, though in some ways the second verse would be sound advice for all artists. 

After all, it's rather a privilege
amid the affluent traffic
to serve this unpopular art which cannot be turned into
background-noise for study
or hung as status-trophy by rising executives,
cannot be "done" like Venice
or abridged like Tolstoy, but stubbornly still insists upon
being read or ignored. 

God may reduce you
on Judgement Day
to tears of shame,
reciting by heart
the poems you would
have written, had
your life been good.

The final one captures something about life in the wake of 20th century totalitarianism, that still seems to ring true today ...

More than ever
life-out-there is goodly, miraculous, loveable,
but we shan't, not since Stalin
and Hitler,
trust ourselves ever again: we 
know that, subjectively,
all is possible.

Baudelaire: Evil Fate

To lift a weight so heavy,
Would take your courage, Sisyphus!
Although one's heart is in the work,
Art is long and Time is short.

Far from famous sepulchers
Toward a lonely cemetery
My heart, like muffled drums,
Goes beating funeral marches.

Many a jewel lies buried
In darkness and oblivion,
Far, far away from picks and drills;

Many a flower regretfully
Exhales perfume soft as secrets
In a profound solitude.

The Tuna Fish Sonnet

Shall I compare thee to a tuna fish?

Though art more lovely and smell better too

Thou tastes more sweet; unless I’m hungry

In which case tuna can be a pretty satisfying lunch

If they do not slather it in too much mayonnaise

Which can, you see, be a real turn off to me.

Of course tuna’s half life wheels

Where yours cast endless toward the seas

And thou eternal glow shall always be

Far fairer than a Chilean bass fair and free

Even when marinated with the best of seasoning

So long as I can breathe, or mine eyes see

So long shall your beauty transcend bumble bee 

Victor Hugo Thought for the Day ...

To Love Beauty is To See Light.

Twilight

In the pale blue twilight of a fading afternoon
A broken heart goes unnoticed by the crisp Autumn breeze
Sunshine's bristling promise sizzles in a murky puddle
Tragedies hiding in the shadows passing fright
Time passes onward in memories unrequited
Stars holding promises, hoping to see the light.

A thought from Baudelaire ...

Be Drunk

You have to be always drunk. That's all there is to it--it's the
only way. So as not to feel the horrible burden of time that breaks
your back and bends you to the earth, you have to be continually
drunk.
But on what?Wine, poetry or virtue, as you wish. But be
drunk.
And if sometimes, on the steps of a palace or the green grass of
a ditch, in the mournful solitude of your room, you wake again,
drunkenness already diminishing or gone, ask the wind, the wave,
the star, the bird, the clock, everything that is flying, everything
that is groaning, everything that is rolling, everything that is
singing, everything that is speaking. . .ask what time it is and
wind, wave, star, bird, clock will answer you:"It is time to be
drunk! So as not to be the martyred slaves of time, be drunk, be
continually drunk! On wine, on poetry or on virtue as you wish."

W.H. Auden Excerpt

From his epic For the Time Being: A Christmas Oratorio, in the Herod section, a rather prescient argument from the great bard ...

Reason will be replaced by Revelation. Instead of Rational Law, objective truths perceptible to any who will undergo the necessary intellectual discipline, Knowledge will degenerate into a riot of subjective visions... Whole cosmogonies will be created out of some forgotten personal resentment, complete epics written in private languages, the daubs of schoolchildren ranked above the greatest masterpieces. Idealism will be replaced by Materialism. Life after death will be an eternal dinner party where all the guests are 20 years old... Justice will be replaced by Pity as the cardinal human virtue, and all fear of retribution will vanish... The New Aristocracy will consist exclusively of hermits, bums and permanent invalids. The Rough Diamond, the Consumptive Whore, the bandit who is good to his mother, the epileptic girl who has a way with animals will be the heroes and heroines of the New Age, when the general, the statesman, and the philosopher have become the butt of every farce and satire.

Nobody Listens to What They Want

Why do we smile when lost in sadness we lay?
Why do we laugh when tears right the way?
Why do we hate when we’d rather create?
Stay in a circle when we wish to escape?
The sun shines a shadow on our lost today
Tomorrow become the heart led away
Yesterdays gone in regret and despair
Happiness on that rainbow somewhere over there
Why is our heart lost and astray?
Why do we listen when words just betray?
Why not be happy I heard someone say.
Fear it appears, stands in the way.
Who do we whisper to in the heat of the night?
Who made us empty in the darkness absent light?
Why do we leave when we’d much rather stay?
Something awry in this cold world today.