Wednesday, December 13, 2006

Games Are Forbidden In The Labyrinth


What's The Point Of Forgetting

I wish you were here, dear,
I wish you were here.
I wish you sat on the sofa
and I sat near.
The handkerchief could be yours,
the tear could be mine, chin bound.
Though it could be, of course,
the other way around.

I wish you were here, dear,
I wish you were here.
I wish we were in my car,
and you'd shift the gear.
We'd find ourselves elsewhere,
on an unknown shore.
Or else we'd repair
to where we've been before.

I wish you were here, dear,
I wish you were here.
I wish I knew no astronomy
when stars appear,
when the moon skims the water
that sighs and shifts in its slumber.
I wish it were still a quarter
to dial your number.

I wish you were here, dear,
in this hemisphere,
as I sit on the porch
sipping a beer.
It's evening; the sun is setting;
boys shout and gulls are crying.
What's the point of forgetting
if it's followed by dying?



Joseph Brodsky, A Song

Unfinished


All My Words Are Second Hand

(...)


All my words are second hand and
Useless in the face of this
Rationale and rhyme and reason
Pale beside a single kiss

And I've heard so many things I
Fail to understand at all
I'd settle anytime for
Unknown footsteps in the hall outside





The Sisters Of Mercy, Some Kind of Stranger

Tuesday, December 12, 2006

So Tired...


Mutilated

(...)


there is a loneliness in this world so great
that you can see it in the slow movement of
the hands of a clock

people so tired
mutilated
either by love or no love.


(...)


Charles Bukowski, the crunch
from LOVE IS A DOG FROM HELL

Sunday, December 10, 2006

Days Go By


I Shall Not Live In Vain

IF I can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one life the aching,
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin
Unto his nest again,
I shall not live in vain.




Emily Dickinson

A Secret Garden


The Longer Thoughts

FOR we have thought the longer thoughts
And gone the shorter way.
And we have danced to devil's tunes
Shivering home to pray;
To serve one master in the night,
Another in the day.



Ernest Hemingway, Chapter Heading


Friday, December 08, 2006

Private


The Passion Of Lovers Is For Death

She had nut painted arms
That were hers to keep
And in her fear
She sought cracked pleasures
The passion of lovers is for death said she
Licked her lips
And turned to feather


(...)



Bauhaus, The Passion of Lovers

Intimate


Burn Down

(...)

My Little Black Angel, as years roll by
I want you to fly with wings held high
I want you to live by the justice code
I want you to burn down freedom's road




Death In June, Little Black Angel

You Poison My Soul


Morning Sun

(...)

I used to think that the day would never come
I'd see delight in the shade of the morning sun



New Order, True Faith

Wednesday, December 06, 2006

Username Taken


I'll Be Your mirror

I'll be your mirror
Reflect what you are, in case you don't know
I'll be the wind, the rain and the sunset
The light on your door to show that you're home



(...)



The Velvet Underground, I'll Be Your mirror

Tuesday, December 05, 2006

Untitled


So Small A Thorn

(...)

Once I wounded him with so
small a thorn
I never thought his flesh would burn

or that the heat within would grow
until he stood
incandescent as a god;

now there is nowhere I can go
to hide from him:
moon and sun reflect his flame.

In the morning all shall be
the same again:
stars pale before the angry dawn;

(...)



Sylvia Plath, To a Jilted Lover

Different Colors


A Thousand Dreams

I am tired, I am weary
I could sleep for a thousand years
A thousand dreams that would awake me
Different colors made of tears







The Velvet Underground, Venus In Furs

Monday, December 04, 2006

Like...


Palm Trees

my legs are like palm trees
swaying in the breeze

my mouth is an oasis
to drink from as you please




Siouxsie And The Banshees, Mirage
(The Peel Sessions)

Shapeshifter


Saturday, December 02, 2006

No equation to explain

No equation
to explain the division of the senses
No sound to reflect
the radiance of time

(...)

Sometimes you can't tell
whether you're waking up
or going to sleep
Spiralling

Unnumbered streets
All the games cannot be yours
All the sights, the treasures of the eye
Does the divided soul remain the same?

No equation to explain
Destiny's hand
Moved, by love

Drawn by the whispering shadows
Into the mathematics
of our desire


It Takes Time
Patti and Fred "Sonic" Smith
(Until the End of the World)

Friday, December 01, 2006

Make sure that the love you offer ...


does not fall on barren soil

Farewell now my sister
Up ahead there lies your road
And your conscience walks beside you
It's the best friend you will ever know
And the past is now your future
It bears witness to your soul
Make sure that the love you offer up
Does not fall on barren soil.


Dead Can Dance, Tell Me About The Forest...

Details Matter


Mutability

We are the clouds that veil the midnight moon;
How restlessly they speed, and gleam, and quiver,
Streaking the darkness radiantly!--yet soon
Night closes round, and they are lost forever:


(...)


Mutability
by Percy Bysshe Shelley

A Detail


Kind Of

And I find it kind of funny
I find it kind of sad
The dreams in which I’m dying are the best I’ve ever had



mad world, tears for fears