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Kate Bethanie Jan 2019
Welcome back. Welcome home.
Your belongings, your things - they are just things, after all - have been waiting for you. Well, not waiting. They had no sense of hope that you would ever come back. They didn't miss you.
But still, when you look at them they do seem to be saying
"welcome home".
You blow the dust off and it's like you were never gone.
You move things around, disrupt the status quo, change what has remained unchanged for so long. Re-discovering.
Re-finding things you thought you'd lost,
memories catching you by surprise.
You can't believe all that you've forgotten,
all that you've lost over the years.
Just little things.
Kate Bethanie Apr 2014
Eight years
Can feel like
A millennium
And a millisecond.
Kate Bethanie Mar 2014
I need to love,
Love is far too easy for me to give.
But this world's too vast for me,
This life isn't mine to live.

I can't tell you much,
But I can tell you what I know.

I need to love,
I need to love just like I need to breathe.
Rejecting faith and magic never helped me,
But I can't make myself believe.

I can't tell you much,
But I can tell you what I know,
This life's not just mine to live,
I can't live all this life alone.

I need to be loved,
It's selfish but it's what I crave.
And I need to believe in something,
But I have never been that brave.

I can't say much as I don't know much,
But I can tell you what's on my mind.
I need to love, need to be loved,
But love is not easy to find.
  Mar 2014 Kate Bethanie
W. H. Auden
As I walked out one evening,
Walking down Bristol Street,
The crowds upon the pavement
Were fields of harvest wheat.

And down by the brimming river
I heard a lover sing
Under an arch of the railway:
"Love has no ending.

"I'll love you, dear, I'll love you
Till China and Africa meet,
And the river jumps over the mountain
And the salmon sing in the street,

"I'll love you till the ocean
Is folded and hung up to dry
And the seven stars go squawking
Like geese about the sky.

"The years shall run like rabbits,
For in my arms I hold
The Flower of the Ages,
And the first love of the world."

But all the clocks in the city
Began to whirr and chime:
"O let not Time deceive you,
You cannot conquer Time.

"In the burrows of the Nightmare
Where Justice naked is,
Time watches from the shadow
And coughs when you would kiss.

"In headaches and in worry
Vaguely life leaks away,
And Time will have his fancy
To-morrow or to-day.

"Into many a green valley
Drifts the appalling snow;
Time breaks the threaded dances
And the diver's brilliant bow.

"O plunge your hands in water,
Plunge them in up to the wrist;
Stare, stare in the basin
And wonder what you've missed.

"The glacier knocks in the cupboard,
The desert sighs in the bed,
And the crack in the tea-cup opens
A lane to the land of the dead.

"Where the beggars raffle the banknotes
And the Giant is enchanting to Jack,
And the Lily-white Boy is a Roarer,
And Jill goes down on her back.

"O look, look in the mirror?
O look in your distress:
Life remains a blessing
Although you cannot bless.

"O stand, stand at the window
As the tears scald and start;
You shall love your crooked neighbour
With your crooked heart."

It was late, late in the evening,
The lovers they were gone;
The clocks had ceased their chiming,
And the deep river ran on.
  Mar 2014 Kate Bethanie
W. H. Auden
Time will say nothing but I told you so,
Time only knows the price we have to pay;
If I could tell you I would let you know.

If we should weep when clowns put on their show,
If we should stumble when musicians play,
Time will say nothing but I told you so.

There are no fortunes to be told, although,
Because I love you more than I can say,
If I could tell you I would let you know.

The winds must come from somewhere when they blow,
There must be reasons why the leaves decay;
Time will say nothing but I told you so.

Perhaps the roses really want to grow,
The vision seriously intends to stay;
If I could tell you I would let you know.

Suppose all the lions get up and go,
And all the brooks and soldiers run away;
Will Time say nothing but I told you so?
If I could tell you I would let you know.
Kate Bethanie Feb 2013
My mind is a corridor,
It stretches for miles,
Everything is pure white
From ceiling to floor tiles.

You could be there for months,
If you were to visit,
And you would only see
A glimpse of what's in it.

Behind each of these doors,
Lies a well-mapped face,
Or an unfinished novel,
Or a memory, or a place.

At the end of the corridor
There's a room unlike the others,
This is where I keep things
I hope noone discovers.

I keep all the things
That are terrible in there,
I keep in this room
The things I cannot bear.

It holds images, words,
And emotions that frighten me,
I've shut them all in there
And I've hidden away the key.

It holds all of my nightmares,
Contains all my dreading,
And though it's always present,
It almost feels like forgetting.

But the most terrifying thing of all
Is a thought I can't lock up...
*What would happen to the corridor,
If that door didn't stay shut?
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