Log in

No account? Create an account
août 2019   01 02 03 04 05 06 07 08 09 10 11 12 13 14 15 16 17 18 19 20 21 22 23 24 25 26 27 28 29 30 31
Here is a wonderful poem via liveonearth...

How to Be a Surrealist by Dean Young

Sleep well. A gland in the command
center releases its yellow hornet
to tell you you're missing the point,
the point being that getting smacked
by a board, gored by umbrellas, tongue-
lashed by cardiologists, bush-wacked
by push-up bras is a learning experience.
Sure, you're about learned up. Weren't
we promised the thieves would be punished?
Promised jet-packs and fleshy gardenias
and wine to get the dust out of our mouths?
And endless forgiveness? A floral rot
comes out of the closet, the old teacher's
voice comes out of the ravine, red-wings
in rushes never forget their rusty-hinged
song. Moon-song, dread-song, hardly-a-song
at all song. Let's ignore that call,
let someone else stop Mary from herself
for the 80th time. It's never really dark
anyway, not even inside the skull. Take
my hand, fellow figment. Every spring
we'll meet, definite as swarms of stars,
insects over glazed puddles, your eyes
green even though your driver's license
says otherwise. And yes, mortal knells
in sleepless hours, hollow knocks of empty
boats against a dock but still the mind
is a meadow, the heart an ocean even though
it burns. As long as there's a sky, someone
will be falling from it. After molting,
eat your own shucked skin for strength,
keep changing the subject in hopes
that the subject will change you.


erinfondue at 2018-07-11 00:12 (UTC) (Lien)
This is beautiful. Very well encapsulates the contradictions and comforts and fears of the modern world. Send my compliments to the author, if you are friends. And thank you for sharing; it meant a lot to me to read this right now.
where hypotheses come to die
madman101 at 2018-07-11 02:36 (UTC) (Lien)
How about this:

I don't care what time you are having in your life right now. Make it better! Yes?

Thanks. I don't know why but this poem works, doesn't it? This came from liveonearth - she was a bit like you, but we parted. Usually when that happens that means they stop posting after a year or two. Maybe she is still around, idk. She was a good/interesting friend. However, neither of us knew the author of this poem.

Honestly great that it helped. I keep posting for some such reason. I remember the likes of you and cater occasional posts to that 'audience' because I hold it in esteem. Whether or not it ever gets back to you, idk - but always great if it does. Keep reading and maybe posting please and thank you.

ps - I reposted this poem w/ an artist LJ friend in mind, trying to encourage her after an extremely rough patch. But, I know that these sorts of things also reach others with similar lives. One reason is maybe because astrology deems it so or not ..
Previous Entry  Next Entry