June 2011
41 posts
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It’s as if I’ve forgotten that I first came to you knowing there would be no string of hope or future… but still, and as I got to know you more and more, I began to wish.
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“I construct my memories with my present. I am lost, abandoned in the present. I...”
– Jean-Paul Sartre
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It shouldn’t be like this.
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“Much on earth is concealed from us, but in place of it we have been granted a...”
– Fyodor Dostoevsky, The Brothers Karamazov
I didn’t sleep and now, I’m making waffles from scratch. A good day so far.
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Dregs
This afternoon it is raining, as never before; and I have no desire to live, my heart. This afternoon is sweet. Why should it not be? Dressed in grace and pain; dressed like a woman. This afternoon in Lima it is raining. And I recall the cruel caverns of my ingratitude; my block of ice over her poppy, stronger than her “Don’t be this way!” My violent...
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Be Near Me
Be near me now, My tormenter, my love, be near me— At this hour when night comes down, When, having drunk from the gash of sunset, darkness comes With the balm of musk in its hands, its diamond lancets, When it comes with cries of lamentation, with laughter with songs; Its blue-gray anklets of pain clinking with every step. At this hour when...
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Danika.
I’ve lost you. In my mind, I know where you are— and it isn’t in (my heart) our not so humble home. You escaped the cage. Was it too cold? I thought, perhaps, the lavender silk kept you warm— and when you smiled, and nodded with a glimmer in your eye, was that for me? You were. Pretending. I wasn’t and frustration filled because it was like this. Each time. The...
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The Falling Star
I saw a star slide down the sky, Blinding the north as it went by, Too burning and too quick to hold, Too lovely to be bought or sold, Good only to make wishes on And then forever to be gone.
— Sarah Teasdale
And it puzzles me how you still have a hold on me. I’ve been changing. Slowly, slightly. But still changing. The innocence is ceasing but the quiet whispers of the melodies you once hummed is still a part of me. I remember that I wished, last year, when the airplane flew over my tiny self, of how lovely it would have been if our feelings for each other were prolonged. An hour would not have...
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“There is no past we can bring back by longing for it. There is only an eternal...”
– Johann Wolfgang von Goethe
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Footprint on Your Heart
Someone will walk into your life, Leave a footprint on your heart, Turn it into a mudroom cluttered With encrusted boots, children’s mittens, Scratchy scarves— Where you linger to unwrap Or ready yourself for rough exits Into howling gales or onto Frozen car seats, expulsions Into the great outdoors where touch Is muffled, noses glisten, And breaths stab, So that when you meet...
Always doing whatever was working for me. Deceiving and avoiding myself. Irresistibly, I continue to rove for something to amuse myself. Pleasure and pain merges into one but even though I can only stir and watch it saturate into a squalid tinge, I persevere. I loiter. I endure. I linger.
Even now, there are no pleasurable thoughts of the future. Negativity takes hold of me as you rise and look...
Dark tresses of hair on a pillow with such a gentle face. Oh, you cranky, cranky child—but I couldn’t hear your grumbling and muttering under your breath today. I called you at 5 am because it was Friday and I was an hour behind and oh! you had school. It was a whim. Such a simple, spontaneous whim of mine. I wanted to wake you up and be the first person to start your morning because...
I think for myself yet most of the time, I don’t act for my own accords. As if I am a pawn or a puppet—directed by another’s hands or through some invincible strings, I live like this.
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Eternity
He who binds to himself a joy Does the winged life destroy He who kisses the joy as it flies Lives in eternity’s sunrise
— William Blake
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“These moments of escape are not to be despised. They come too seldom.”
– Virginia Woolf
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