There was a window, a white windows,
framed with wooden corners with a large
pane of glass hinged on one side.
and often, one would see a young lady
staring out of this white window
out of a white bleached house
ever wondering, ever wondering
what tomorrow will be.
i dont understand it better than you do. but it exists
it
is like silent moments in the night
when you are sitting beside me
as you talk to me and tell me stories
and lean over to whisper gently in my ear
it
is when you search for words to say
unsure how to say it but it is okay
i will wait and i will always be here to listen
it
is how we [...]
IF you can keep your head when all about youÂ
Are losing theirs and blaming it on you,
If you can trust yourself when all men doubt you,
But make allowance for their doubting too;
If you can wait and not be tired by waiting,
Or being lied about, don’t deal in lies,
Or being hated, don’t give way to hating,
And [...]
by Anne Sexton
Since you ask, most days I cannot remember.
I walk in my clothing, unmarked by that voyage.
Then the almost unnameable lust returns.
Even then I have nothing against life.
I know well the grass blades you mention,
the furniture you have placed under the sun.
But suicides have a special language.
Like carpenters they want to know which tools.
They [...]
[29 jan]
Hello dear friend I have come to visit
bringing with me crisp unopened letters
that lay silently in your mailbox.
In the darkness it has defied decay and light,
each old and fresh as the months past.
A lady waits in a black dress, her long hair
swept back over her shoulders. In the clear meadow
she strikes a lonely figure. [...]
I wrote down my dreams
on crinkled yellow paper
perhaps for you to read
I wrote them down with innocence
for I knew not of my fate
I passed my youth I grew my age
and the dreams grew page by page
Innocence changed to bitterness
and the dreams began to fade
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an alternate and short version of the theme ‘I wrote down my [...]
—————————————————————————————————————
the physical version of what i previously posted. and some commentary:
[18feb]
what it means
first stanza. superman alludes to pop culture, common terms of heros, especially in today’s context, with all the superheros and movie heros. idealised heros, with strength and courage. but yet there are softer emotional sides to it. how reality is not tv.
second stanza. [...]
^the actual physical thing. but it’s in electronic form below for better readability and searching. on paper it looks more ‘real’, more believeable, more flawed.
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i wrote down my dreams
on yellow crinkled paper, believing
perhaps that in doing so they will live
if only a little longer
lest they fade
like how night fades into dawn.
i wrote them down
with utmost [...]
I am not what they would call ‘Superman’
Nor could I ever be the opportune hero
Yet I shall hold you gently by the hand
Till troubling night fades into tomorrow
I was not born to be crowned King of men
Nor have I a white horse to ride on
Yet I would before your troubles stand
And shield you from love’s [...]
Sinister perversions coalesce like dark spirits
In my mind, lost, like black ink in a void.
Self-repelling, they gather like shadowed moths
Milling about the edges of my yellowed scroll.
With my black wand I have captured them,
Bound them with lines and curves on ruled paper,
Marked their ends with gentle periods.
Twisted they lie unmoving on the page.
These unwilling prisoners [...]