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.
Friday, September 08, 2006
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.