Poem: Many red devils ran from my heart

Many red devils ran from my heart
And out upon the page,
They were so tiny
The pen could mash them.
And many struggled in the ink.
It was strange
To write in this red muck
Of things from my heart.

- By Stephen Crane, "Many red devils ran from my heart"

(An early morning read during breakfast, before going off to work.)

Love, 

S.

To be in love

Prayer Candles. Quiapo, Manila. August 2,2011. (Photo by: S.)

 

 To Be In Love (By Gwendolyn Brooks)

To be in love 
Is to touch with a lighter hand. 
In yourself you stretch, you are well. 
You look at things 
Through his eyes. 
A cardinal is red. 
A sky is blue. 
Suddenly you know he knows too. 
He is not there but 
You know you are tasting together 
The winter, or a light spring weather. 
His hand to take your hand is overmuch. 
Too much to bear. 
You cannot look in his eyes 
Because your pulse must not say 
What must not be said. 
When he 
Shuts a door- 
Is not there_ 
Your arms are water. 
And you are free 
With a ghastly freedom. 
You are the beautiful half 
Of a golden hurt. 
You remember and covet his mouth 
To touch, to whisper on. 
Oh when to declare 
Is certain Death! 
Oh when to apprize 
Is to mesmerize, 
To see fall down, the Column of Gold, 
Into the commonest ash.

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Loreen and I were at the mall earlier, and I chanced upon this poetry in a book that I bought in the Book Sale earlier. Pulitzer prize-winning Gwendolyn Brooks' work is a find for me today.

There's someone who wrote an analysis of this poem. i'm too sleepy to write my own as of now, so please, click on this link. 

"...You are the beautiful half of a golden hurt" as a line...is simply, gold. 

I love this poem.

 Me, being a book junkie. (I absolutely love smelling the stuff.)

Oh, and they sold this Kubler-Ross classic for only 45 pesos. yum.

Anyway, I'm sleepy.

Good night.

Love, 

S. 

 

 

August 12, 2011. Sunrise over Ermita. Photo by: Sonia.

i carry your heart with me(i carry it in 

my heart)i am never without it(anywhere

i go you go,my dear; and whatever is done

by only me is your doing,my darling)

i fear

no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want

no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)

and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant

and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows

(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud

and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows

higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)

and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)

e e cummings 

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It was one of those early mornings when the sun was just slowly peeking through the clouds, eager to do its "morning rounds"when I took this picture. A few seconds later it had gotten too bright...and the light had become too harsh for my taste. I personally love orange sunrises...they inspire poetry. And what better poetry than e.e. cummings, whose particular simple verse evokes...stirrings.

I've always loved this e.e. cummings poem. It's rightfully corny, I suppose. :-) But I just like the idea of being of one breath, being of one heart and being one in mind with the one I love (which is the superficial interpretation). Love is when the other person matters more than you, as equally as you.

somewhere along that line, i suppose. :-p 

They say that romantic love is at its most intense when it is in the danger of being unrequited...

What do I think about it?

I don't really know. Sometimes we like to believe in cotton-candy spun dreams and tales of love...but sometimes a picture of a beautiful thing like sunrise beginnings could only be just that, a picture.

There are times when I brazenly scoff in jest that i've had enough of love ("...and all that bull-shet":-p), but really, deep inside (and in my blogger's heart), that sunrises are beautiful for a purpose, beautiful so as to inspire.

SO there.

------ 

And yes, I had a happy birthday. it was simply a happy day. With a perfect sunrise. :-)

Love, 

S. 

p.s. sunrises and poetry make me feel like mush... an evil combination. LOL.

One vivid afternoon

Two less lonely buildings in the world. ;-) 

One afternoon, after a light rain, I got to thinking...In a world of near-infinite possibilities, could that "awesome fit" that complements you in every way just be right across the street?

Sure. 

Could be.

(Maybe.)

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In a patch of land, where nothing is alike, and there are buildings of sizes and shapes of different kinds (as "far as the eye can see", in this picture, of course)...there were two that were the exact mirror image of each other.  See if you can spot them.


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Not Love, Perhaps

This is not Love, perhaps, 
Love that lays down its life, 
that many waters cannot quench, 
nor the floods drown, 
But something written in lighter ink, 
said in a lower tone, something, perhaps, especially our own.

A need, at times, to be together and talk, 
And then the finding we can walk 
More firmly through dark narrow places, 
And meet more easily nightmare faces; 
A need to reach out, sometimes, hand to hand, 
And then find Earth less like an alien land; 
A need for alliance to defeat 
The whisperers at the corner of the street.

A need for inns on roads, islands in seas, 
Halts for discoveries to be shared, 
Maps checked, notes compared; 
A need, at times, of each for each, 
Direct as the need of throat and tongue for speech.

- A.S.J Tessimond

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DISCLAIMER. This is a "no big deal" entry. Not dedicated to anybody in particular. At all. :-)