?

Log in

No account? Create an account
entries friends calendar profile Previous Previous
Threshold
...she walked in through the out door.


So much left unsaid

That I still love you

But saw no other way out

No other way to keep the pain at bay

To force the loss as a way to stand the loss

Tags: ,

2 comments or Leave a comment

Whisper of running streams, and winter lightning.
The wild thyme unseen and the wild strawberry,
The laughter in the garden, echoed ecstasy
Not lost, but requiring, pointing to the agony
Of death and birth.

T. S. Eliot, East Coker



I set them free
every one of them
bit by bit they sent off
in all directions
is it your choice
or theirs
freedom
is
death
set
free

Tags: ,

Leave a comment
I've been looking so long at these pictures of you
That I almost believe that they're real
I've been living so long with my pictures of you
That I almost believe that the pictures
Are all I can feel.



...screamed at the make-believe
Screamed at the sky
And you finally found all your courage
To let it all go


Robert Smith (The Cure), Pictures of You

Tags: ,

Leave a comment
The shock.
The silence that followed.
The distance.

The distance.

You broke the bridge. On your side.

More brutal, more radical than I ever dared to experience
within cyberhell.


Tags: ,

Leave a comment
Most probably I'll never find out why. My perception, blurred. My judgement, torn between instinctive knowledge and hope, preposterous to reason.

We go round and round in circles, he said.
Yes.
It must stop
.

Tags:

Leave a comment
And so I whirl around and around,
in this breathtaking,
vertignious merry-go-round,
until the reaper
asks me for the last dance.


Tags: ,

Leave a comment

The tower is fifty ells down and the same up. There is a man kept in the dungeon under the tower. The king has bound him to his conscience with a chain. After a wonderful life he is counting days, but not waiting.
On the top of the tower lives an astronomer. The king bought him a telescope to bind him to the universe. The astronomer counts the stars, but isn't afraid. The man on the top and the man down below fall asleep full of numbers.
That's why they understand each other. They have no pigeon, but a black cat carries messages from the dungeon to the top of the tower.
- There goes another day - it says to the astronomer.
To the prisoner:
- A star was born.
All three of them have green eyes.
From the long vigil, not from hope.

Zbigniew Herbert, Tower

50

Tags:

Leave a comment
Didn’t you tell me that pain is part of life? I think that we can only feel happiness and true connection to others in rare, intensive moments and that we are condemned to loneliness for most of the time. I shared such moments with you, an intensity that will never be destroyed, regardless of doors you closed and sealed.


Sienna Miller as Edie Sedgwick & Guy Pearce as Andy Warhol in "Factory Girl"

Tags: ,

Leave a comment
I expect to make rather a good death. The essence of death is loneliness, and I have had plenty of practice at this.
T. H. White, Diary 1960

Neglect and abandonment, overwhelming, fathomless.
That old feeling, so familiar since earliest childhood, washes away
the fragile sand castles I built and rebuild again and again.



Horace Vernet - The Maiden's Lament.jpg


To seek fire & warmth, only to find
the cold muddy sea, dragging at your clothes.

Tags:

Leave a comment

eulogy to a hell of a dame

some dogs who sleep at night
must dream of bones
and I remember your bones
in flesh
and best
in that dark green dress
and those high-heeled bright
black shoes,
you always cursed when you drank,
your hair coming down you
wanted to explode out of
what was holding you:
rotten memories of a
rotten
past, and
you finally got
out
by dying,
leaving me with the
rotten
present;
you've been dead
28 years
yet I remember you
better than any of
the rest;
you were the only one
who understood
the futility of the
arrangement of
life;
all the others were only
displeased with
trivial segments,
carped
nonsensically about
nonsense;
Jane, you were
killed by
knowing too much.
here's a drink
to your bones
that
this dog
still
dreams about.

Charles Bukowski


Tags: ,

Leave a comment
Last season's fruit is eaten
And the fullfed beast shall kick the empty pail.
For last year's words belong to last year's language
And next year's words await another voice.
T. S. Eliot, Little Gidding


Leave a comment
...on all the travels that await me

2019


Tags:

Leave a comment