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Thursday, August 05, 2004
O, for cascades of Time! This short, Brutal life is not for me. It takes an hour To sip a wine worthy of the drinking; It takes a Year to bathe in fields Of violet grass, a month just for the dew To soak my Skin to velvet peak, another for the sun To bake me dry as powder. How can we live In shorthand like a Mayfly? How can we die Not knowing whither Time will take our Half-formed meditations? We want to eat the world And have not Time enough to sniff the spice That should go with it. O, for cascades of Time To ripple by like endless ocean waves! This short, Brutal life is not for me. I am too Clumsy in my walking, too slow in my seeing, Too much a child of culture when I speak. I fight my way through wars to truly see an orange Ripen; to smell it without preconception, to taste It without History but pure, each time a maiden voyage, Each time a brand new love. O, for cascades of Time Like the Ages of the antique Stars! This short and Brutal life is not for me.
merilee 8:35 PM - [Link]
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Monday, July 12, 2004
Of ancient Tales and wonderLust I dream, when everything was new And spiced with sun and hope, Before the charismatic past was Kidnapped by the small mind of the present. Of Tigers bright and lonely seagulls Surfing o'er a wave of sin, of Badgers snuffling under the hedge And elephants in lazy castles swimming, I dream of things that never were, I'm tempted by their Fate, I'm drowning in a pool of liquid fire; I do not know what Time and Chance await.
merilee 10:07 PM - [Link]
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Sunday, July 11, 2004
I cannot see the empty road ahead For all the caustic fever of my Eye. I wonder if my dignity is dead Or resting in some long-forgotten lie Of thorns and hollyhocks, buried by No Mourners, Kings or spies. Would he notice? Would he cry? Would he recognize me spun like silver thread Among the common wool? I think not. He'd see his own reflection, marvel at his will, Pat the mourners on the back and gently pay the bill. He'll have his peace of mind, though dearly bought.
merilee 11:46 AM - [Link]
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Thursday, July 08, 2004
My elegant Soul, by far More elegant than I, Swims Naked on a sea of broken glass And pain is all it knows. Oceans toss it back and back, The Winds change its direction. It lost Its way some time ago, Cold and blind and floating In Its own Blood.
merilee 9:18 PM - [Link]
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Tuesday, June 15, 2004
My elegant Soul, more elegant By far than I, Swims Naked on a sea of glass And pain is all it ever sees. Wild Oceans push it back and back, The Winds turn its Direction in untamed circles Like bending compass slashing At its thin, defenseless skin.
merilee 8:57 PM - [Link]
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