"unchangeable" poems
FROM the time of the early radishes
To the time of the standing corn
Sleepy Henry Hackerman hoes.
There are laws in the village against weeds.
The law says a **** is wrong and shall be killed.
The weeds say life is a white and lovely thing
And the weeds come on and on in irrepressible regiments.
Sleepy Henry Hackerman hoes; and the village law uttering a ban on weeds is unchangeable law.
11.9k
Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art—
Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night
And watching, with eternal lids apart,
Like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite,
The moving waters at their priestlike task
Of pure ablution round earth's human shores,
Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask
Of snow upon the mountains and the moors—
No—yet still steadfast, still unchangeable,
Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast,
To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,
Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,
Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,
And so live ever—or else swoon to death.
8.4k
We all have faces that we hide away
forever and we take them out and
show ourselves when everyone is
gone and we look at what the years
have done and realize that everything
on the outside changes but what
really matters is on the inside and that
mostly remains the same.
We tell ourselves stories in order to
live and we cure physical diseases with
medicine but find out that the only cure
for loneliness, despair, and hopelessness
is love, so don't hope but decide and
have some fun on that final ride as
you approach the end.
Wash what is ***** water what is dry,
heal what is hurt, dry tears that are shed,
warm what is cold and guide what goes
off the road so you can lighten your
load and don't be afraid to try again
as everyone goes south every now and
then as we all fall in love though we
disregard the danger but learn that it
takes strength to love again but it
takes courage to be loved.
It takes strength to survive but it takes
courage to live just as it takes strength
to feel a friends pain and courage to
feel your own pain, so change the
changeable, accept the unchangeable
and remove yourself from the unacceptable.
Jon York 2015
Nov 21, 2015
Nov 21, 2015 at 3:24 PM UTC
We like to be in peace
Lies disrupts the timeline of human beasts
Sending you to decision making feats
Making you think of an unchangeable decision
Life is full of actions requiring a question
Answers and choices
Whichever path you choose might leave you exploited
Everybody has a weakness, which might lead to stress
Emotionless people take advantage of any weakness
How a friend can save a life
Your best friend can destroy your life
Even though police are on the frontline
Some can create the stealth crime
Leaving so many people blinded with a fine
Who is that voice we found solace to confide in
Apr 21, 2014
Apr 21, 2014 at 12:58 AM UTC
Unchangeable is the love within our souls
Dreaming of soft timelessness
Perceived in fadeless hues of red and gold
Transmuted from molded clay
Imperfect, yet still beheld
As flawless
White shadows of a misted lace attention holds
An honesty in its purest form
Washed in fadeless hues of red and gold
Unchangeable is the love within
Completed souls
As timelessness transforms
Until now, our feet have trod a different path
Yet seeking still the same
Imperfection, with an honest aftermath
Time has taken wing in fadeless hues of red and gold
Imperfection beheld as flawless
Is the element it became
Oct 14, 2010
Oct 14, 2010 at 7:57 PM UTC
Frightened
from the start till the end
Both felt same love, forbidden but still love
Love
the best feeling i have
Bearing it, Feeling it
Trying to be the same
Perfect for each other
but secrets should remain
Night and day
It feels like forever
Invisible but precious
Unchangeable and unexposed
If the world gave us a chance
Our world won't be apart
Barrier will fade
Uncovered inside our heart
Feb 20, 2015
Feb 20, 2015 at 4:19 AM UTC
Bright star, would I were steadfast as thou art! -
Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night,
And watching, with eternal lids apart,
Like Nature's patient sleepless Eremite,
The moving waters at their priestlike task
Of pure ablution round earth's human shores,
Or gazing on the new soft fallen mask
Of snow upon the mountains and the moors -
No -yet still steadfast, still unchangeable,
Pillowed upon my fair love's ripening breast,
To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,
Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,
Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,
And so live ever -or else swoon to death.
4.3k
Because I could not draft for Ice,
it did kindly draft for me.
Does the Ice make you shiver?
does it?
Pay attention to the chill,
the chill is the most shivering fear of all.
Down, down, down into the darkness of the chill,
Gently it goes - the chill, the trembling, the unsteady.
A thawing, however hard it tries,
Will always be Melting.
Does the thawing make you shiver?
does it?
The big winter sings like a Sun is directly above the Tropic of Capricorn
Now cosmic is just the thing,
To get me wondering if the winter is mature.
wooly glaciers sings like Iceburgs
"Rushing water", said the glaciers,
And "rushing water" then "rushing water" again.
How happy is the frozen popsicle!
Does the popsicle make you shiver?
does it?
The freezing that's really crystals,
Above all others is the frost.
Does the frost make you shiver?
does it?
Because I could not draft for Ice,
it did kindly draft for me.
Does the Ice make you shiver?
does it?
Because I could not draft for Ice,
it did kindly draft for me.
Ice, Ice, every where,
Yet not a drop to draft.
How happy is the cold surface!
Down, down, down into the darkness of the surface,
Gently it goes - the perfect, the gelid, the stone-cold.
Pay attention to the floe,
the floe is the most Dence ice mass of all.
Floe, floe, every where,
Yet not a drop to drift.
The thawing is like a gentle voice,
it tends to cause significantly.
Does the thawing make you shiver?
does it?
The athletic game that's really zany,
Above all others is the hockey.
Pause to assist, like the hockey does.
It does assist, it does draft,
Should it also induct?
Why would you think the snowfall is gradual?
the snowfall is the most sudden downfall of all.
Pause to last, like the snowfall does.
It does last, it does accumulate,
Should it also range?
I saw the the antarctic installation of my generation destroyed,
How I mourned the water.
I don't like the fact that it,
learned to reside before it knew how to flow.
You can reside, you can flow, but can you supply?
Because I could not draft for Ice,
it did kindly draft for me.
Does the Ice make you shiver?
does it?
Because I could not draft for Ice,
it did kindly draft for me.
Pause to draft, like the Ice does.
Don't belive that the snowfall is small?
the snowfall is big beyond belief.
Never forget the braggy and large-scale snowfall.
Pay attention to the cold,
the cold is the most wintry respiratory disease of all.
Are you upset by how springlike it is?
Does it tear you apart to see the cold so frozen?
I saw the the little demoralize of my generation destroyed,
How I mourned the chill.
Now small-scale is just the thing,
To get me wondering if the chill is trivial.
An iceman, however hard it tries,
Will always be cunning.
Are you upset by how adroit it is?
Does it tear you apart to see the iceman so attractive?
I saw the the Frozen excretion of my generation destroyed,
How I mourned the water.
Never forget the sleety and unchangeable water.
Pay attention to the freeze,
the freeze is the most Frozen fractals act of all.
Does the freeze make you shiver?
does it?
Because I could not draft for Ice,
they did kindly draft for me.
Do Ice make you shiver?
do they?
Apr 8, 2018
Apr 8, 2018 at 2:53 PM UTC
Oh do not die, for I shall hate
All women so, when thou art gone,
That thee I shall not celebrate,
When I remember, thou wast one.
But yet thou canst not die, I know,
To leave this world behind, is death,
But when thou from this world wilt go,
The whole world vapors with thy breath.
Or if, when thou, the world’s soul, goest,
It stay, ’tis but thy carcass then,
The fairest woman, but thy ghost,
But corrupt worms, the worthiest men.
O wrangling schools, that search what fire
Shall burn this world, had none the wit
Unto this knowledge to aspire,
That this her fever might be it?
And yet she cannot waste by this,
Nor long bear this torturing wrong,
For much corruption needful is
To fuel such a fever long.
These burning fits but meteors be,
Whose matter in thee is soon spent.
Thy beauty, and all parts, which are thee,
Are unchangeable firmament.
Yet ’twas of my mind, seizing thee,
Though it in thee cannot persever.
For I had rather owner be,
Of thee one hour, than all else ever.
3.5k
Death called your name, you said
Not from the periphery
But right here
Right now
And it requires bloodshed
Eyes glazing over
The tracks before you
Dreaming of being
Splayed
For the length of a mile
I laugh nervously
When you tell me
Because it was me
Your son
Who handed you the phone
“For death, press 1”
You’re at the crossing now
From the pedal
Your foot lifts
The train’s horn
Bellowing
As into its path
You drift
The brakeman screams
As your body disjoints
Your shame for me reduced
To scarlet exclamation points
A nearby sparrow
Witnesses the scene
“Sad”, she thinks
Hatchlings cozy
Underneath her wing
It’s a bit cruel
To pile your ****
On my shoulders
As if I were a mule
And it’s a bit wicked
To claim my
Unchangeable
Existence
As sin committed
The enigma of stigma
Is yours to explore
I slide you a key
I’ll be right here
On the other side of the door
A mouse creeps
Across the threshold
Seeing both sides
“Too bad”, he thinks
As he scurries by
You named me Christopher
After a boy killed
By a train
And now you say I’m to blame
Like an unfortunate stain
On the hem
Of our family’s pain
The truth is
I couldn’t keep living a lie
And I’m sorry, dad
I’m the reason you want to die
Sep 3, 2022
Sep 3, 2022 at 8:23 PM UTC
the one constant in your life is you.
I am the tectonic plates, shifting and burying and grinding
changing against myself with little cares for trees and bushes,
I do not mind that my earthquakes destroy sheep
I do not lose sleep over my sinkholes, nor does the
fresh breeze disturb my actions- you
might think your life changes when someone leaves
or someone dies, or someone new comes
and maybe yes, it does, but you are really far beyond the scope
of one meteorite, one blast of destruction or creation-
this is no apocalypse. The world is different, now, but not really-
it still exists, and it still is called by the same name-
no matter what physical shifts occur, it's made of the same mass
of **** and dirt and rock and pure lava tossing in the celestial laundry.
What do you find there?
You are more unchangeable than you know
and yet, once you are changing- there is no stopping
the earth from folding in on itself and unearthing your new truth.
Feb 25, 2015
Feb 25, 2015 at 7:42 PM UTC
the woman
SOsO beautiful
so strong, she's made of titanium steel
unbreakable and unchangeable
the woman
skin so soft
like the touch of the rose petals she cultivates
intertwined in her hair
gosh, nothing can beat THE WOMAN.
Dec 3, 2018
Dec 3, 2018 at 7:36 AM UTC
*Please tell me what it's all about?
I’ve never felt so insecure
So much confusion trying to blind me
I remember my foundation is sure
And that’s when I open my eyes
I focus, then I realize
We’re headed towards the paradise
so I remember the promises I’ve come to know
and the reality of what’s been told,
He cannot lie to us
He makes His name known to everyone
Then He causes to become
He causes to become
Could you imagine peace?
Peace of mind within your thoughts?
Peace inside your heart
Peace within the animal kingdom?
An earth with no borders
Humanity with freedom
It’s coming
He cannot lie to us
He makes His name known to everyone
Then He causes to become
Oh yes He causes to become
No more rich dictators
No more wealthy entertainers
Only beauty will surround us
Because happiness has found us
Watch closely this system’s going down
We can’t wait!
No more wars to hurt the masses
No more famine crisis
No more poor or middle classes
He cannot lie to us
He makes His name known to everyone
Then He causes to become
Oh yes He causes to become*
(Hebrews 6:18 : "So God has given both his promise and his oath. These two things are unchangeable, because it is impossible for God to lie. Therefore, we who have fled to him for refuge can have great confidence as we hold to the hope that lies before us")
May 14, 2013
May 14, 2013 at 1:21 PM UTC
I heard there was a secret metric foot
that David knew was favoured by the Lord,
and when he penned the psalms he'd often put
this pattern the Almighty best adored
amongst the endless praise and imprecations;
unstressed, plus stressed, suffuses through his pages,
though hidden by the English of translations;
pentameters still echo down the ages.
The spondee's spurned, and has been from the start;
an anapaest's anathema, and grim.
Though trochees may be near the Maker's heart,
you'll never hear a dactyl in a hymn.
There's only one the Lord thinks worth a ****
the sacred, the unchangeable iamb.
Jun 22, 2010
Jun 22, 2010 at 8:07 AM UTC
Why did you give no hint that night
That quickly after the morrow’s dawn,
And calmly, as if indifferent quite,
You would close your term here, up and be gone
Where I could not follow
With wing of swallow
To gain one glimpse of you ever anon!
Never to bid good-bye
Or lip me the softest call,
Or utter a wish for a word, while I
Saw morning harden upon the wall,
Unmoved, unknowing
That your great going
Had place that moment, and altered all.
Why do you make me leave the house
And think for a breath it is you I see
At the end of the alley of bending boughs
Where so often at dusk you used to be;
Till in darkening dankness
The yawning blankness
Of the perspective sickens me!
You were she who abode
By those red-veined rocks far West,
You were the swan-necked one who rode
Along the beetling Beeny Crest,
And, reining nigh me,
Would muse and eye me,
While Life unrolled us its very best.
Why, then, latterly did we not speak,
Did we not think of those days long dead,
And ere your vanishing strive to seek
That time’s renewal? We might have said,
“In this bright spring weather
We’ll visit together
Those places that once we visited.”
Well, well! All’s past amend,
Unchangeable. It must go.
I seem but a dead man held on end
To sink down soon. . . . O you could not know
That such swift fleeing
No soul foreseeing—
Not even I—would undo me so!
2k
Each day a sun arises,
And with the closing of the day the moon appears,
A cycle that's unchangeable,
And happens from year to year,
But within each ordinary day a miracle occurs,
Like a shooting star or a raindrop falling on the icy lake,
Or a baby being born.
John James enters the world to explore the brand new sights,
From the comfort of his mothers womb to a world of calm,
Of love and peace,
His life, I hope, will be one filled with joy and cheer,
And the necessary feeling of knowing his family is near,
And as the wind changes and the seasons come and go,
I know that John James changeth, you'll see just how he grows.
You'll watch upon in wonder as he utters his first word,
Like the blind man who rejoiced at the sight of the mockingbird,
You'll watch upon in awe as, slowly, step by step he takes,
And the pleasure you will feel each morning that he wakes,
In a time where life can be so cruel and rushed,
Nothing silences the passion, this flame just can't be hushed.
Each day a sun arises,
And with the closing of the day the moon appears,
A cycle that's unchangeable,
And happens from year to year,
But within each ordinary day a baby can be born,
And like the river finds it way, John James has found your heart,
For, in that heart, like a locket on a pendant, he will forevermore stay.
Oct 8, 2013
Oct 8, 2013 at 4:40 PM UTC
I am sitting in my studio
trying to get to you.
Gazing at smoke
drift off this beautiful ember
All
the way up
to the ceiling
slowly
filling the room
Hitting this without you,is just not as exciting
I guess
I
hit
myself
beat
myself
to this high point
to this fluffy cloud
All though
all alone
I am content
slowly drifting
away.
To a place
No one can tell me negative things
if they did
I probably
would not care
My mind
uncontrollably goes
to this wonder place
you know,
that place
where any idea is cool
and everything is,
you know
positive.
But
Lighting my bowl
flashes me back
to that moment
you know,
the reality
that you are not here
simply, cause
you do not want to be.
Quickly
pulling myself back
to a positive thought
I start to tell myself
what you have done is really no big deal,
and how you make me
smile.
I grin.
You know that cloud
I zooted myself to,
the figment
that I created
I fell from it
I fell so hard
I have no idea what I could be feeling
feeling?
Feelings,
As crushing as it has been throughout the years
I have never been ashamed of these feelings I have for you,
that I just simply can not explain,
why?
I understand,
you do not believe
these feelings,
at times
I do not even believe these
things
to be mine,
someone must of put them here,
maybe you did before you left.
Regardless
I can not believe
how consistent they are
how selfless they are
how unchangeable they are
cause
of
how
you
are.
~~~~~~~~
How you were unaffected
by my feelings
I hesitantly
showed you.
There was
no reciprocation
of your feelings cause,
you could not even feel for yourself.
But
without words spoken
I knew
there was feelings there
that you denied
Cause
what was there within us
vibrating back and forth
was so potent
so vibrant
so tangible
it could only have been denied status
but
could not help, but to have been seen.
Aug 6, 2015
Aug 6, 2015 at 10:39 AM UTC
Unmovable Unchangeable
A worthiness a standard is deposited in your inner being all other elements in life will ebb and flow but
Your essence will be darkened by sorrow but from this tragedy and sorrow riches will tower a streaming
Blessedness will flow it will instantly engage another who has just suffered loss seen unseen words and
Actions will with the deftest touch a kindness soaked in mellowness will be communicated in silence to
The heart who has just suffered the bitter harvest of sorrow the gripping real a special irreplaceable
Someone has departed to walk on a different plane for them purest light your circumstance darkest
sorrow cold as Everest you are left ripped not only of all outward cover but inward has there ever been
Such savage destruction the healthy norm now ravaged the spiritual heart ripped apart it was complete
It was formed by love alone no other sculptor is more honered to work with such substance he makes
Their face those eyes the transfiguring part of human connection truly souls merge together here in this
Special stream vision multifaceted feelings weighted the heavier the deeper the depths where
Emotional ties are created from pleasures these springs of the heart you come in emptiness you leave
With these volumes ballooned ever stirring thoughts the very impulses that make them the person you
Know this feed of expressions do they not cause an unending joy that spills at different times sometimes
Just a slow pleasant entailing then at other times a roar of engulfing and at times it happens when your
Tide is low they instinctively trigger this from their register of mercy a unity that is boundless truly you
Have small oceans within I see it in the workaday world but like the song behind closed doors magic
Fire you reach heavenly heights explorers rewarded in human feeling that can’t be bought and are never
Sold truly kings and queen of a great domain in the hidden soul you have truly roped the wind and
Touched stars as you hovered under them holding hands who can doubt God when you exhibit his very
Essence through the love you found and it causes unfathomable assurances holding hands is the same
As a great dam holding water but yours is holding never ending love
Oct 5, 2012
Oct 5, 2012 at 12:13 AM UTC
Its 1:30 in the morning. And I’ve begun to think of the rarities and adversities in life, which shape
us into the hollow ghosts called humanity. Machines that listen, and obey. Becoming slaves of a
mundane existence as we go about our days. Wake. Eat. Sleep. Repeat. With the slight possibility
of variation that may never come to fruition. Why must we consume, but not provide? We
multiple uncontrollably, take from this earth, yet never seem to substantially give back. Something
so beautiful and yet so abused. To give, may be to take away from ourselves. But is selflessness so
horrible? To make the life of another better, at the small expense of ourselves should be but a
small price. Yet the few whom know this and continue to give out of the goodness of their hearts,
are scoffed at by the selfish majority. Why must we, the hollow ghosts of humanity, make
decisions for whatever objective we may have, in whatever situation should be presented, and
then complain of the results or the consequences should they not go accordingly? Rather than
vowing to improve on the matter of contempt? The decision was made, and cannot be
changed. Why fret so much, over something that is now unchangeable? Why not simply decide
within one’s self to, when presented with a choice of a similar nature, make a different
decision? We, being the hollow ghosts we are, dwell so frequently on the past. Thinking so hard,
as if to change events of times long behind us. We think, as if to comprehend our very
nature. And in the absence of the desired understanding and/or enlightenment, we complain
about our very existence. As if anything and everything in our daily lives may hold precedence
over the very fact of our existence. As if to curse our Creator for making us such simple creatures
not able to grasp the complexity or diversity of His design. Rather than taking existence itself for
face-value, and enjoying the many fruits of this beautiful earth, we **** ourselves with selfishness
and passiveness. And we, the hollow ghost of humanity, will ultimately be our own miraculous
yet untimely downfall.
Apr 15, 2013
Apr 15, 2013 at 8:01 AM UTC
VI
We lack, yet cannot fix upon the lack:
Not this, nor that; yet somewhat, certainly.
We see the things we do not yearn to see
Around us: and what see we glancing back?
Lost hopes that leave our hearts upon the rack,
Hopes that were never ours yet seem'd to be,
For which we steer'd on life's salt stormy sea
Braving the sunstroke and the frozen pack.
If thus to look behind is all in vain,
And all in vain to look to left or right,
Why face we not our future once again,
Launching with hardier hearts across the main,
Straining dim eyes to catch the invisible sight,
And strong to bear ourselves in patient pain?
IX
Star Sirius and the Pole Star dwell afar
Beyond the drawings each of other's strength:
One blazes through the brief bright summer's length
Lavishing life-heat from a flaming car;
While one unchangeable upon a throne
Broods o'er the frozen heart of earth alone,
Content to reign the bright particular star
Of some who wander or of some who groan.
They own no drawings each of other's strength,
Nor vibrate in a visible sympathy,
Nor veer along their courses each toward
Yet are their orbits pitch'd in harmony
Of one dear heaven, across whose depth and length
Mayhap they talk together without speech.
1.6k
Some things are sadly poetic
Like the cougar whose boyfriend
Won’t come back outside and she’s alone
At the only table in the cold
smoking a pall mall,
Having a beer.
Some things are refreshingly poetic
like leaving the office for a bit with the boss
and going somewhere
where there are domes made of pure gold
and priests who pour milk on them from
helicopters.
Some things are interestingly poetic;
like the poet, turned novelist, turned artist,
who does landscaping to cover the spread.
Some things are courageously and nostalgically
And hurtfully poetic,
Like not seeing your family for nine years
Because the money’s good where you're at,
And plane tickets and passports are outrageous.
Some things should not be
poetic, but they are, because they are truthful
And that is verse;
like the waitress who was *****
when she cashed her check at a grocery store
after the night shift
and she wasn’t the only one in her car
when she got back.
Some things are poetry because they come
Into this world quietly
And bleeding internally,
and yet they survive
Even though their lungs are full of fluid,
And they can barely breathe.
Some things are poetry because they happened
And nothing can change that.
And because
Poetry is
unchangeable, immovable, and
grotesque, beautiful, uncomfortable, calming,
disfiguring, life-giving, ****** up,
Possibly ****** possibly a nectar
That God
or whoever the ****
allowed to be put on paper,
Possibly a way to talk about pain,
Possibly roided up with someone else’s words,
Possibly a way to talk about
the pure dream of a girl’s body
Without being a ***** *****
Poetry is love in the worst
and most unimaginable ways.
Mar 13, 2012
Mar 13, 2012 at 8:39 PM UTC
Our Tractor Man
Our tractor man is doing
What he really likes to do:
Clearing snow.
He suits my mental man-with-plow.
Trading pig and cow
For gear he likes to sit inside;
The tractor hut;
Tranquil woods to clear and saw,
Chop and cut;
Tractor wheel, forest smell,
Alone deciding what to fell.
Muddy potholes in the spring,
Flood and crud his tractor´s thing.
Nicely chubby,
Slightly tubby;
Sixty odd,
His tractor and the woods his God.
I esteem this earthy man
Dharma bound to seasoned stars
That fix the farmer life and plan
Unchangeable and stable.
Our Tractor Man passed away 2016.
Our Tractor Man 3.4.2003 (revised 11.19.2016)
Circling Round Nature; Circling Round Time; Special People, Special Occasions; Birth. Death & In Between II;
Arlene Corwin
our devoted tractor man who plowed our road in the winter.
Nov 19, 2016
Nov 19, 2016 at 3:11 PM UTC
Its better written than said, Yet they say am blindfolded by your love, Fooling myself without been bewitched,
Who cares, when your blazing love, beautifys my heart from miles away, this 's not a subject of discussion, Now they say am subjecting myself to unnecessary distraction,
Let them talk we say, Who cares what they see, When they are tired they will seat,
When no one was here, It's u I could find, In u I confine, No need to confirm,
When u speak, I toss and turn, that grinds my gears, No need to cough Before I confess, Your beautify's clouding my head of nonsense,
They say it makes no sense, I need to be counseled, you have created a cell of love in my head, It needs to be casted,
From the caging love that has be canoeing In my head, it's time it capsize, But who cares , When canopying your love , brings me joy,
They keep staring , With there brutal faces , From different races, backstabbing claiming to be, back stopping the bleeding That has been fooling My blessings without no lesson,
Its time to make it clear, Like I have said, Its better written than said,
Am not blindfolded by your love , Nor obsessed by your touch, nether will I be addicted by your thought,
I only see an angel when I look at you, admiring the beautiful creativity of nature,
You are in this because you have colonized in my heart .
Jul 18, 2013
Jul 18, 2013 at 6:23 AM UTC
BRIGHT Star, would I were steadfast as thou art--
Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night,
And watching, with eternal lids apart,
Like Nature's patient sleepless Eremite,
The moving waters at their priest-like task
Of pure ablution round earth's human shores,
Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask
Of snow upon the mountains and the moors--
No--yet still steadfast, still unchangeable,
Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast,
To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,
Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,
Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,
And so live ever--or else swoon to death.
1.5k
There is nothing so obnoxious as a memory
Persistent and begging for constant attention
Poking its head out of every corner
Shouting out to wake a sleeper
Leering at a pleasant dream
Interrupting thoughtless meditation
Memories are like silent broken records
Playing the same song
Over- over- over- over-
Scratching every unchangeable mistake
Catching every imperfect moment
Reminding of a better time
Just to replay the bitterness
It is a cyclical, perniciousness;
Round and round the record goes
Playing the same train wreck
Reminding the sunken listener that it’s
Over- over- over- over-
Oct 27, 2011
Oct 27, 2011 at 4:48 PM UTC