the end
9.11.09
5.11.09
today I had thoughts on giving up; like running a marathon and allowing flashes on stopping to walk.I've never walked, though I'm not in any place to boast since the furthest I've ran is 10km. But I've never walked. walking is defeat, it's resignation, it's giving up.
But today,unlike other days, I was tired. my body stiff, my mind a useless blank,my soul light.While life is short, it is very long and I'm already tired.
So this weekend is pamper-pam weekend.rejuvenation is key,motivation is a by-product.screw those who scorn at 'splurgers'.how often are we nice to ourselves.how often are people nice to us.
But today,unlike other days, I was tired. my body stiff, my mind a useless blank,my soul light.While life is short, it is very long and I'm already tired.
So this weekend is pamper-pam weekend.rejuvenation is key,motivation is a by-product.screw those who scorn at 'splurgers'.how often are we nice to ourselves.how often are people nice to us.
2.11.09
17.10.09
Rain
Not so hot as this for a hundred years.
You were where I was going. I was in tears.
I surrendered my heart to the judgement of my peers.
A century's heat in the garden, fierce as love.
You returned on the day I had to leave.
I mimed the full, rich, busy life i had to live.
Hotter than hell. I burned for you day and night;
got bits of your body wrong, bits of it right,
in the huge mouth of the dark, in the bite of the light.
I planted a rose, burnt orange, the colour of flame,
gave it the last of the water, gave it your name.
It flared back at the sun in a perfect rhyme.
Then the rain came, like stammered kisses at first
on the back of my neck. I unfurled my fist
for the rain to caress with its lips. I turned up my face,
and water flooded my mouth, baptised my head,
and the rainclouds gathered like midnight overhead,
and the rain came down like a lover comes to a bed.
Carol Ann Duffy
You were where I was going. I was in tears.
I surrendered my heart to the judgement of my peers.
A century's heat in the garden, fierce as love.
You returned on the day I had to leave.
I mimed the full, rich, busy life i had to live.
Hotter than hell. I burned for you day and night;
got bits of your body wrong, bits of it right,
in the huge mouth of the dark, in the bite of the light.
I planted a rose, burnt orange, the colour of flame,
gave it the last of the water, gave it your name.
It flared back at the sun in a perfect rhyme.
Then the rain came, like stammered kisses at first
on the back of my neck. I unfurled my fist
for the rain to caress with its lips. I turned up my face,
and water flooded my mouth, baptised my head,
and the rainclouds gathered like midnight overhead,
and the rain came down like a lover comes to a bed.
Carol Ann Duffy
8.10.09
blissfully heading nowhere
there's something beautifully intriguing about stairs; the mystery of what lies above or below, eagerly hoping to find what you hoped to find, anticipating the end yet, not wanting to arrive at it.
6.10.09
thoughts on quitting
there's still that part of me that fantasizes about being buried by books...
you & me, here ok?
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