sonnets
i like their construction. i think i shall... adopt them for a while. though with a mind to honesty, because poetry, i find, has a knack of making you forget to focus on what you really meant to. the very medium which (i think) should be only about honesty can so easily slip away into only what sounds like honesty. rosehips and memories and tactile sensation and high romance, it wasn't where i was going really, because really rosehips and memories and tactile sensations were what i wanted to write about, but not high romance, human romance. perhaps i can perfect this over time.
and the whirlwind of family life continues and everyone spins in their own orbit at a speed too high to be safe and i feel especially dizzy and my gravity is all out. i don't know where i stand, and i have no clear perception of what my relationship is with anyone at the moment, just a vague disconcerting feeling that it is certainly not what it should be.
i'll try and lose myself in byron and shelley, except i want to turn their thoughts into a new more clarified dignified version of my thoughts, their lives mix with mine as i read and i end up pondering my own rather than escaping it.
thinking about the doctor. thinking about the pill. thinking about blood pressure and strokes and questions. i don't want to go really, but the pain was so bad...... i just want any way out of this, and if the side effect is not getting pregnant all the better i guess...
and i feel like i'm floating in space weightless and no air just floating and waiting and looking at the calender and floating and waiting. and when i should be very happy, how is it that i am just nothing?
2 Comments:
G'day. Wandered onto your page and very content for doing so. Poetry can create its own filter on your suroundings. Thought I'd leave you with a couple of my own literal scars for you to nurse.
SILENT EXISTENCE:
Wherin I find the truth so stale
A stark remembrance of innocence failed
A sheltered dream
An empty wound
A decipher-less vision
My impetuous doom
An unspoke word to fall on deaf ears
Speaking in silence to comfort my fears
I revel in loss and the comfort of pain
To scar my realities again and again
What will you remember when nothing is left?
LEAVE:
Take me from where I am
and guide me closer to you
Give me the scars that tear out your heart
so I can be closer to you
Kiss me again and feed me your pain
then haunt me when I am alone
Nestled in mind I hold you inside
and make your sorrow my own
As death closes in I burn deep within
to taste your breath and caress your face
Before I should die please take me aside
for one last eternal embrace
-Cian_
thanks for your comment, cian (btw does anyone know how to delete that annoying healthcare one? because i can't say i want it on my blog...). its always lovely to make a connection with someone, especially when you don't see it coming.
and your poems are lovely, too. :)
my blog has been terribly neglected lately... the summer was far too wonderfully, frustratingly, absorbingly, entertainingly, obsessively good to want or even think of posting anything. this autumn is turning out to be too wonderfully, depressingly, achingly, longingly... well i would say "bad" but i think "empty" or "misbalanced" is a better word, to want or even think of posting anything...
thank you for reminding me my blog still exists ;)
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