Greatpoets and the Rain
Mar. 15th, 2011 09:48 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
Today I was tired-- maybe 5 hrs sleep last night, I think 3 the night before that I climbed the Eiffel tower on the climbing machine and I've been keeping up with my workouts. When I'm that tired I get surrounded in a silvery static of exhaustion; I'm isolated within my own head and it can go two ways. I can get stuck, claustophobic and knotted in my own dark and defeatist thoughts, or I can dive inwards like diving into a deep feather comforter and feel around in my head for awhile. I did the latter and so, while I felt fragile all day, I never slipped right over into feeling bad. It helps that I stole some time at the gym, did some cardio and climbed the Eiffel Tower again (working up to Mt Olympus, you betcha! Eiffel Tower's just shorthand for 300m) so when I got to the incredibly slow boring class at the end of the night I stayed awake. It helped that I prepped by bringing food and ate it during class, even if it wasn't great food for me. Calories count for a lot.
It helped that I've been well-loved by the triumverate of support in my life
Amd mpw I come home to a real dinner, more love, and some poems like the one by ee cummings that got me mostly through today, I think it's a new favourite:
as freedom is a breakfastfood
or truth can live with right and wrong
or molehills are from mountains made
-long enough and just so long
will being pay the rent of seem
and genius please the talentgang
and water most encourage flame
as hatracks into peachtrees grow
or hopes dance best on bald men's hair
and every finger is a toe
and any courage is a fear
-long enough and just so long
will the impure think all things pure
and hornets wail by children stung
or as the seeing are the blind
and robins never welcome spring
nor flatfolk prove their world is round
nor dingsters die at break of dong
and common's rare and millstones float
-long enough and just so long
tomorrow will not be too late
worms are the words but joy's the voice
down shall go which and up come who
breasts will be breasts and thighs will be thighs
deeds cannot dream what dreams can do
-time is a tree (this life one leaf)
but love is the sky and i am for you
just so long and long enough
ee cummings
And this one makes me think of Kynnin. The time in my life where this would have been about him is gone, but sometimes there are echoes, and I do remember:
You Know, I Think More and More Often
You know, I think more and more often
that I should go back.
Maybe I'll meet you. And happiness?
Happiness is being sad together.
So I look through the moonlit window
and listen.
Nothing. A breeze stirs somewhere.
Alone among the leaves - the moon.
Like a golden wheel it rolls
above the windblown leaves.
Such moons, only paler,
shone over the Wisla.
Even the Big Dipper on its course
stops in a tree at midnight,
just like at home. But why here?
Truly, I don't know.
What's here? Longing and sleepless nights,
unknown streets and somebody's verse.
I live here as a nobody:
a Displaced Person.
I think of you. I know I must leave.
Perhaps we can return to our past,
but I know neither what youth will be like
nor where you are.
But I'm yours or no one's
forever. Listen,
listen, read this poem
if somewhere you are alive.
Tadeusz Borowski
It helped that I've been well-loved by the triumverate of support in my life
Amd mpw I come home to a real dinner, more love, and some poems like the one by ee cummings that got me mostly through today, I think it's a new favourite:
as freedom is a breakfastfood
or truth can live with right and wrong
or molehills are from mountains made
-long enough and just so long
will being pay the rent of seem
and genius please the talentgang
and water most encourage flame
as hatracks into peachtrees grow
or hopes dance best on bald men's hair
and every finger is a toe
and any courage is a fear
-long enough and just so long
will the impure think all things pure
and hornets wail by children stung
or as the seeing are the blind
and robins never welcome spring
nor flatfolk prove their world is round
nor dingsters die at break of dong
and common's rare and millstones float
-long enough and just so long
tomorrow will not be too late
worms are the words but joy's the voice
down shall go which and up come who
breasts will be breasts and thighs will be thighs
deeds cannot dream what dreams can do
-time is a tree (this life one leaf)
but love is the sky and i am for you
just so long and long enough
ee cummings
And this one makes me think of Kynnin. The time in my life where this would have been about him is gone, but sometimes there are echoes, and I do remember:
You Know, I Think More and More Often
You know, I think more and more often
that I should go back.
Maybe I'll meet you. And happiness?
Happiness is being sad together.
So I look through the moonlit window
and listen.
Nothing. A breeze stirs somewhere.
Alone among the leaves - the moon.
Like a golden wheel it rolls
above the windblown leaves.
Such moons, only paler,
shone over the Wisla.
Even the Big Dipper on its course
stops in a tree at midnight,
just like at home. But why here?
Truly, I don't know.
What's here? Longing and sleepless nights,
unknown streets and somebody's verse.
I live here as a nobody:
a Displaced Person.
I think of you. I know I must leave.
Perhaps we can return to our past,
but I know neither what youth will be like
nor where you are.
But I'm yours or no one's
forever. Listen,
listen, read this poem
if somewhere you are alive.
Tadeusz Borowski