To love is an exquisite pain
Being loved is only half as interesting.
*
Life is a great big booze party
Death seems to be the hangover.
*
Undying love requires the peculiar passion of youth
Then over the years, it becomes an occasional feeling.
What can be worse than the complete agony of being in love? Yet what could possibly be a more enriching experience? Some of these entries arise out of the euphoria of first love and the rape of innocence; the rest reflect the musings of a more mature poet: one who is compelled to accept the absurdity of the transient world, but has the courage to romance it nevertheless. At times it is not even poetic... too brutal to be so. But therein lay the catharsis: purgation of life’s follies.
Tuesday, September 26, 2006
Friday, September 08, 2006
ABSURDITY OVERCOME
A hot shower
A worn out silken scarf
Chicken broth and toast
The smell of well bound books
And Linseed mixed with turp
The light at the end of a wakeful night,
Tobacco, toils and burning eyes
Simple pleasures are the only luxury the complex can afford.
A worn out silken scarf
Chicken broth and toast
The smell of well bound books
And Linseed mixed with turp
The light at the end of a wakeful night,
Tobacco, toils and burning eyes
Simple pleasures are the only luxury the complex can afford.
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