Morning Song

Morning Song
by Sylvia Plath

Love set you going like a fat gold watch.
The midwife slapped your footsoles, and your bald cry
Took its place among the elements.

Our voices echo, magnifying your arrival. New statue.
In a drafty museum, your nakedness
Shadows our safety. We stand round blankly as walls.

I'm no more your mother
Than the cloud that distills a mirror to reflect its own slow
Effacement at the wind's hand.

All night your moth-breath
Flickers among the flat pink roses. I wake to listen:
A far sea moves in my ear.

One cry, and I stumble from bed, cow-heavy and floral
In my Victorian nightgown.
Your mouth opens clean as a cat's. The window square

Whitens and swallows its dull stars. And now you try
Your handful of notes;
The clear vowels rise like balloons.

From Ariel, published by Harper & Row, 1966. Copyright © 1966 by Ted Hughes. All rights reserved. Used by arrangement with HarperCollins Publishers, Inc.

Spring is like a perhaps hand...

Spring is like a perhaps hand
(which comes carefully
out of Nowhere)arranging
a window,into which people look(while
people stare
arranging and changing placing
carefully there a strange
thing and a known thing here)and
changing everything carefully
spring is like a perhaps
Hand in a window
(carefully to
and from moving New and
Old things,while
people stare carefully
moving a perhaps
fraction of flower here placing
an inch of air there)and
without breaking anything.

e.e.cummings

The Remains Of A Day

She came back to the place where she had initially met him. It didn't matter to her as much knowing that they both now had better lives.She could tell he had met somebody else; somebody that brought more to life that when he was with her.But it didn't matter so long as she knew he was happy..
To her, life without him didn't make much sense..life was passing by and day by day she was wishing he was out there, somewhere, looking for her, wondering about her, feeling that one day...but no. Not to her. It didn't matter any more. So, day in day out she lived her life as normal.Went to work, fed her cat, read a novel, thought about her life,and hoped... She didn't travel as much as she wanted to. In fact, since she left, there was hardly any time left for her to concentrate in travelling;or going out with somebody.The only thing she could think of was keeping up appearances. Pretending it didn't hurt as much when she was thinking of all the times she had spend with him.
Other times she got angry.Angry of the way he had treated her. All those nights she spend alone while he was away with some other fine woman or two. All the times he had promised her things and never kept to his words...all the times he made her cry and never turned back to say a comforting word so as to ease her pain or prevent her tears from surfacing.These times worthed nothing anymore. For they were the remains of a day that did not belong to any present circumstance.
She was alone...and he was still out there...

James Morrison Unplugged

You give me something

You only stay with me in the morning,
You only hold me when I sleep,
And I was meant to tread the water,
But now I've gotten in too deep,
For every piece of me that wants you,
Another piece backs away.

'Cause you give me something,
That makes my skin go wry,
This could be nothin,
But I'm willin to give it a try,
Please give me something,
Cause someday I might know in my heart.

You only waited out for hours,
Just to spend a little time alone with me,
And I can say I've never bought you flowers,
I can't work out what they mean,
I'd never thought that I'd love someone,
And that was someone elses dream.

'Cause you give me something,
That makes my skin go wry,
This could be nothin,
But I'm willin to give it a try,
Please give me something,
Cause someday I might call you from my heart.

But it might be a second too late,
And the words that I could never say,
Are gonna come out anyway.

Know in my heart.

Find James Morrison mp3

18.02.2007

Summertime...

I arrived a while ago from Greece... yes, i am in sunny England. Having travelled for so many hours and being searched up to my ass by the clever airport staff-as if I looked like a bloody terrorist ready to blow the airport off!- i arrived at my home. finally, or i was about to scream my head off and then they would guard me for sure...

I had a lovely summer with my friends. Scorching my beautiful skin to the 50 degrees C, so that I can come back here and get dressed up like a bloody onion! Sitting here in my house, freezing my tits off, wondering what the hell am i doing back, I am thinking of my next move to keep myself entertained...Mmmm...
Unfortunately, during my gorgeous summer, I had a big fight with my ex, current friend, now unknown person. we stopped talking to eachother, and had another fight with a long lost acquaintance that i really liked. (but he was a bit of an arsehole mind...) So, Oppps, i did it again and so on... who gives a flying fuck at the end of the day? Its probably for the best as the ex was so immature I kept feeling like I was his mother and the other one was so fucking stupid I couldnt help but taking the piss out of him and trying purposefully to get on his nerves...at least I was doing something when I was bored...

But now what?

well...??(she winks)

I am sure the parties will start and i will be the first one there drinking up to my eyeballs, flirting like theres no tomorrow and no wonder getting up to some tricks showing everyone how to have a bloody good time...Hurray!!!

and so all the bad memories will be forgotten...

Sonnet 116 (30:8)

"Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments; Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O' no! It is an ever-fixed mark,
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown,although his height be taken.
Love's not time's Fool, though rosy lips and cheeks,
Within his bending sickle's compass come;
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.

If this be error and upon me prov'd,
I never writ, nor no man ever lov'd."

Sonnet 18 (30:8)

"Shall I compare thee to a summer's day?
Thou art more lovely and more temperate:
Rough winds do shake the darling buds of May,
And summer's lease hath all too short a date:
Sometime too hot the eye of heaven shines,
And often is his gold complexion dimm'd,
And every fair from fair sometime declines,
By chance, or nature's changing course untrimm'd:
But thy eternal summer shall not fade,
Nor lose possession of that fair thou ow'st,
Nor shall death brag thou wander'st in his shade,
When in eternal lines to time thou grow'st,
So long as men can breathe, or eyes can see,
So long lives this, and this gives life to thee."

A Midsummer Night's Dream (24:8)

I often wondered what made summer nights as beautiful as that one...yet it was only too shortly afterwards that... everything I had built, everything I had imagined and everyting I had experienced all turned out to be just a dream... As I woke up I heard his soft voice whispering her name as softly as was the midsummer's breeze. Yet, I did not dare to open my eyes fully... I was scared to see; I was scared to admit that it was just a dream...

I can still see his face looking at me with a baffling tone yet smiling at me with the sweetest smile... and I kiss him... I kiss him as if I am never to see him again... and I won't; i can't; I mustn't;...