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st64 May 2020
My glass shall not persuade me I am old,
So long as youth and thou are of one date;
But when in thee time's furrows I behold,
Then look I death my days should expiate.
For all that beauty that doth cover thee,
Is but the seemly raiment of my heart,
Which in thy breast doth live, as thine in me:
How can I then be elder than thou art?
O! therefore, love, be of thyself so wary
As I, not for myself, but for thee will;
Bearing thy heart, which I will keep so chary
As tender nurse her babe from faring ill.
   Presume not on thy heart when mine is slain,
   Thou gav'st me thine not to give back again.
Sonnets 20 - 32 present an ocean of relative tranquility, in which some minor matters of social difference appear to darken the horizon momentarily, and then pass away. Apart from that, the love which has been declared in 13, 15 and 19 But, love, you are etc.; dear my love, you know; 13. And all in war with time for love of you etc.; 15. my love's fair brow; My love shall in my verse ever live young; 19, is allowed to develop to full maturity. In this sonnet it is as if the point of no return has been reached. The expressions of care and tenderness, of love's togetherness and the prospect of youth growing old, of two hearts united in one, of the commitment of love until the severance of death, combine to make this a rare moment in the heart's history. Love triumphs over age and death. Yet in the background there is always the looking in the glass, the reflections in the mirror, so often evoked in these sonnets, which cast back one's own face beated and chopped with tanned antiquity, and the fair youth's face which must go the same way in the end.

There may well be a significance in the number alone of this sonnet, since multiples of 11 seem to exercise some sort of fascination for the writer. Thus 77 and 88 both step aside to look into the future, 66 renounces the world completely, 55 takes a grand and distant view of the passage of time. Although 33, 44 and 99 do not seem to have any special significance, (but see the commentary to 99 for its dating significance), it may be simply that we fail to see it, or that these numbers are not deemed to be as critical as the others and the various climacteric ones, such as 63, 70 and 81.





Sub-tale:

"Asleep at the wheel" - T. Coraghessan Boyle

https://www.newyorker.com/magazine/2019/02/11/asleep-at-the-wheel
st64 Aug 2018
NO FEAR

My eye has acted like a painter and engraved your beautiful image on the canvas of my heart.
My body is the frame that holds this picture; to draw that picture with perspective, realistically representing depth, is the highest skill a painter could have.
Only via this painter—my eye—can you find the image of you that dwells continually in my heart:
Your own eyes are the windows into my heart.

Now look at the favors our eyes have done for each other:
My eyes have drawn your shape, and your eyes are windows into which I can look to see my own heart, into which the sun also likes to look, taking a peep at your reflection.

Yet my eyes lack a certain skill that would grace the others they already have:
They can only draw what they see; they don’t see into your heart.
Sonnet 24 is very difficult to follow even when translated. We are meant to picture the speaker and the addressee staring into each other’s eyes and each seeing his own reflection. The speaker is able to see through the eye of his own reflection into his own heart, where the image of the addressee is enshrined.
st64 Jan 2018
When I went out
The sun was hot
It shone upon
My flower ***.

And there I saw
A spike of green
That no one else
Had ever seen!

On other days
The things I see
Are mostly old
Except for me.

But this green spike
So new and small
Had never yet
Been seen at all!
Sweet chilli tea and Danish cookies.


Illegitimi non carborundum.
st64 Jul 2016
Little Box talks back
With a new set of teeth
And pink gums
A fake nose and a wax mustache
She disguises her voice
To sound like Groucho
  


Little Box opens up
And cries to her psychiatrist
I don’t know why they hate me
I’m such a sweetheart
I volunteer at the zoo
And teach Mandarin
To their bratty children



Little Box is not happy to see you
So she closes herself up for months
Years, decades, and two millennia!
She tacks up a sign that says
Nirvana



Little Box is undead
She sleeps all day in a coffin
Hands over chest
At night she cruises the mall
For juicy victims

She prefers type A
But AB if she has to
What can you say
Vampires can’t be choosy
She likes your stupid brother



Little Box is on the psychiatry couch
Everybody hates me
Nobody loves me
Little Box lies on her side
And spills her guts



What’s in Little Box
A perfect orchid
A chocolate-covered strawberry
A new iPhone
With a glittery sleeve
Amber earrings from Pushkin

Keys to a new Porsche
A retro Chanel brooch
A Getty scion’s left ear
A Czar’s *****
Gifts so rare
Please don’t stare



What’s in Little Box
Rancid chow mein
A sliver of cold pizza
Last week’s hummus
You’re a starving orphan
From East Brooklyn
And you’ll eat it



So you want to **** Little Box
You want to know her secret
She won’t open up
She won’t give it up
And you are genuinely repelled
By her filthy ribbon



You want to DO the Little Box
You are a sorry story
You big creep
Why don’t you get off the couch and find
A real girlfriend!



Boss Box
White, square, and without a soul!



Please don’t analyze Little Box
She’s just cardboard clogging the landfill
Her mother Precious Jade Purse
Has been regifted
howdy :)
st64 Feb 2015
To love. To be loved. To never forget your own insignificance. To never get used to the unspeakable violence and the ****** disparity of life around you. To seek joy in the saddest places. To pursue beauty to its lair. To never simplify what is complicated or complicate what is simple. To respect strength, never power. Above all, to watch. To try and understand. To never look away. And never, never to forget.

                       - *Arundhati Roy
blessed be.
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