Paris

By Paul Perry
Make me bitter
Count me among the almonds
From my mouth
You almost would have lived

Count me among the almonds.
The night is the night.
From my mouth
You almost would have lived.

The night is the night.
In the swell of wandering words
You almost would have lived
Without words too.

In the swell of wandering words.
You fill the urns and feed your heart.
Without words too.
Twelvemouthed.

And I lie with you, you in the refuse
Get drunk and name yourself Paris.
Twelvemouthed.
As if we could be we without us.

Count me among the almonds.
Make me bitter.
You almost would have lived.
Make me bitter.

Suffering

Ribs bruised where you loved me. Feathered collarbones, cigarette burns on my shoulder. You inked kisses under my chin and pressed black fingerprints to my wrists, gaping holes in my heart where you punched in your affections. Peeling back sorrows to find the words you'd left behind, underneath my plams you'd written: we are infinite.

Hello Again :)

Lovely Followers,
I hope all of you are well and happy. I feel that this blog is successful, but could do with a bit more creativity and expansion. So please, welcome any new followers here, and post any ideas you have. I or one of my fellow aadministrators will be glad to add you as an admin of this blog so that it may continue to grow and flourish as a focus of inspiration and writing of all kinds. We could always use some interesting diversity here. :)
Lots of love to you all!
Ever
xxx

The Sorrow of Love

W.B. Yeats

The quarrel of the sparrows in the eaves,
The full round moon and the star-laden sky,
And the loud song of the ever-singing leaves,
Had hid away earth's old and weary cry.

And then you came with those red mournful lips,
And with you came the whole of the world's tears,
And all the sorrows of her labouring ships,
And all the burden of her myriad years.

And now the sparrows warring in the eaves,
The curd-pale moon, the white stars in the sky,
And the loud chaunting of the unquiet leaves
Are shaken with earth's old and weary cry.

Never try to trick me with a kiss
Pretending that the birds are here to stay;
The dying man will scoff and scorn at this.

A stone can masquerade where no heart is
And virgins rise where lustful Venus lay:
Never try to trick me with a kiss.

Our noble doctor claims the pain is his,
While stricken patients let him have his say;
The dying man will scoff and scorn at this.

Each virile bachelor dreads paralysis,
The old maid in the gable cries all day:
Never try to trick me with a kiss.

The suave eternal serpents promise bliss
To mortal children longing to be gay;
The dying man will scoff and scorn at this.

Sooner or later something goes amiss;
The singing birds pack up and fly away;
So never try to trick me with a kiss:
The dying man will scoff and scorn at this.

Jim Morrison poem, Untitled

A wake
Shake dreams from your hair

My pretty child, my sweet one

Choose the day, & the sign
of your day,
1st thing you see.

A burnt tree, like a giant
primeval bird, a leaf,
dry & bitter, crackling tales
in its warm waves.
Sidewalk gods will do for you.
The forest of the neighborhood,
The empty lost museum, &
The mesa, & the Mt.'s pregnant
Monument above the newstand
where the children hide
when school ends

Delusion Angel

One of my absolute favourite movies, Before Sunrise, introduced me to one of my favourite poems, 'Delusion Angel'.
The poem 'Delusion Angel' by the poet David Jewell was actually written for Before Sunrise. In one of the film's scenes, the two main character, Jesse and Celine, come across a bum while wandering the streets of Vienna. Instead of typical begging, he asks them to give him a word and he will write a poem containing that word. And if they like the poem, they can buy it from him. Celine gives him the word 'milkshake' and this is the poem he "writes":

Daydream delusion,
Limousine eyelash
Oh baby with your pretty face
Drop a tear in my wine glass
Look at those big eyes
See what you mean to me
Sweet cakes and milkshakes
I'm a delusion angel,
I'm a fantasy parade
I want you to know what I think
Don't want you to guess anymore
You have no idea where I came from
You have no idea where we’re going
Lodged in life, like branches in the river
Flowing downstream,
Caught in the current
I'll carry you, you'll carry me
That's how it could be
Don't you know me?
Don't you know me by now?




{I thought I'd post the video with the shortened version of this scene, but if you want to watch the scene in its entirety, you can here.}

I've always loved that part. Whether or not the poet wrote that poem right then, it's still such a beautiful idea. I mean, if you have to beg you might as well put your creative juices to work!

{P.S. - I wrote a story for one the writing prompts! You can read it if you click the link on the right side of the page entitled "Prompt Responses."}