Being with you or without you
is how i measure my time.love is a Parallax
by Sylvia Plath
'Perspective betrays with its dichotomy:
train tracks always meet, not here, but only
in the impossible mind's eye;
horizons beat a retreat as we embark
on sophist seas to overtake that mark
where wave pretends to drench real sky.'
'Well then, if we agree, it is not odd
that one man's devil is another's god
or that the solar spectrum is
a multitude of shaded grays; suspense
on the quicksands of ambivalence
is our life's whole nemesis.
So we could rave on, darling, you and I,
until the stars tick out a lullaby
about each cosmic pro and con;
nothing changes, for all the blazing of
our drastic jargon, but clock hands that move
implacably from twelve to one.
We raise our arguments like sitting ducks
to knock them down with logic or with luck
and contradict ourselves for fun;
the waitress holds our coats and we put on
the raw wind like a scarf; love is a faun
who insists his playmates run.
Now you, my intellectual leprechaun,
would have me swallow the entire sun
like an enormous oyster, down
the ocean in one gulp: you say a mark
of comet hara-kiri through the dark
should inflame the sleeping town.
So kiss: the drunks upon the curb and dames
in dubious doorways forget their monday names,
caper with candles in their heads;
the leaves applaud, and santa claus flies in
scattering candy from a zeppelin,
playing his prodigal charades.
The moon leans down to took; the tilting fish
in the rare river wink and laugh; we lavish
blessings right and left and cry
hello, and then hello again in deaf
churchyard ears until the starlit stiff
graves all carol in reply.
Now kiss again: till our strict father leans
to call for curtain on our thousand scenes;
brazen actors mock at him,
multiply pink harlequins and sing
in gay ventriloquy from wing to wing
while footlights flare and houselights dim.
Tell now, we taunq where black or white begins
and separate the flutes from violins:
the algebra of absolutes
explodes in a kaleidoscope of shapes
that jar, while each polemic jackanapes
joins his enemies' recruits.
The paradox is that 'the play's the thing':
though prima donna pouts and critic stings,
there burns throughout the line of words,
the cultivated act, a fierce brief fusion
which dreamers call real, and realists, illusion:
an insight like the flight of birds:
Arrows that lacerate the sky, while knowing
the secret of their ecstasy's in going;
some day, moving, one will drop,
and, dropping, die, to trace a wound that heals
only to reopen as flesh congeals:
cycling phoenix never stops.
So we shall walk barefoot on walnut shells
of withered worlds, and stamp out puny hells
and heavens till the spirits squeak
surrender: to build our bed as high as jack's
bold beanstalk; lie and love till sharp scythe hacks
away our rationed days and weeks.
Then jet the blue tent topple, stars rain down,
and god or void appall us till we drown
in our own tears: today we start
to pay the piper with each breath, yet love
knows not of death nor calculus above
the simple sum of heart plus heart.
Labels: Poetry.
0 lend me some sugar.
..so lately i have been in
this stay-up-till 7am, ungrammatical, nostalgic, talk to myself. paranoid, insomniac, wide eyed, and a little intense. okie maybe little is an
understatement. wish i knew if i wanted stability more than the complete range of emotions and
melodrama. if only life could be summarized in one simple word...good or bad. -im
too young to be stuck somewhere in the middle, sitting on a fence and whining
about it. no, i cant write an intro for myself, hence i ask you to read the damn
blog. maybe.. you'll find out more through my posts. n in the meanwhile take a panadol handy.. .
tell me you luv me..
Terror Alert Level -
One crow sorrow
Two crows mirth
Three crows a joining
Four
crows a birth
Five crows lucky
Six crows cold
Seven crows a
secret
Never to be told
- Lately...
When I was a child
a story was told
about the devil
and a girl so bold.
He offered her riches,
a fortune of gold,
and lovers abound.
But she lifted her soul,
she lifted her soul clean.
Like the story was told
on a dark country road
the same man appeared to me...
But I reached, I reached
through the rain to the Devil's feet.
Now twenty years later
to the place I return where I scorned the angels
for a passion that burned.
There set in a tree
a knot twisted and turned,
the face of a creature Hell bound.
So long ago
could my mind've played jokes on me?
As darkness sets in,
unavoidable sin,
the truth I try not to believe....
That I reached, I reached
through the rain to the Devil's feet.
-by Azure Ray
_________________
One Tree Hill - New
Zealand.
Dedicated to Xulfee Bhai, who chose to die in the Summer of 2003 Oct 7.
calm before the storm
_________________
Numb by Linkin Park
And i know
I may end up failing too
But i know
You were just like me with someone disappointed in you..
I've become so Numb...I can't feel you there.
said he: tum jaisay doosron say bhaagti ho aur chupati ho .. wohi mere saath bhi kiya.... "
~*~ current mood ...
