Yeats

The Heart of The Woman
O WHAT to me the little room   That was brimmed up with prayer and rest;   He bade me out into the gloom,   And my breast lies upon his breast.      O what to me my mother’s care,          5 The house where I was safe and warm;   The shadowy blossom of my hair   Will hide us from the bitter storm.      O hiding hair and dewy eyes,   I am no more with life and death,   10 My heart upon his warm heart lies,   My breath is mixed into his breath.

I've discovered "The Laughing Philosopher"

Mr. Thomas Love Peacock, ladies and gentlemen!

 

Farewell to Matilda

By Thomas Love Peacock

              Oui, pour jamais
              Chassons l’image
              De la volage
              Que j’adorais.              PARNY.

Matilda, farewell! Fate has doom’d us to part,

But the prospect occasions no pang to my heart;

No longer is love with my reason at strife,

Though once thou wert dearer, far dearer than life.

 

As together we roam’d, I the passion confess’d,

Which thy beauty and virtue had rais’d in my breast;

That the passion was mutual thou mad’st me believe,

And I thought my Matilda could never deceive.

 

My Matilda! no, false one! my claims I resign:

Thou canst not, thou must not, thou shalt not be mine:

I now scorn thee as much as I lov’d thee before,

Nor sigh when I think I shall meet thee no more.

 

Though fair be thy form, thou no lovers wilt find,

While folly and falsehood inhabit thy mind,

Though coxcombs may flatter, though ideots may prize,

Thou art shunn’d by the good, and contemn’d by the wise.

 

Than mine what affection more fervent could be,

When I thought ev’ry virtue was center’d in thee?

Of the vows thou hast broken I will not complain,

For I mourn not the loss of a heart I disdain.

 

Oh! hadst thou but constant and amiable prov’d

As that fancied perfection I formerly lov’d,

Nor absence, nor time, though supreme their controul,

Could have dimm’d the dear image then stamp’d on my soul.

 

How bright were the pictures, untinted with shade,

By Hope’s glowing pencil on Fancy pourtray’d!

Sweet visions of bliss! which I could not retain;

For they, like thyself, were deceitful and vain.

 

Some other, perhaps, to Matilda is dear,

Some other, more pleasing, though not more sincere;

May he fix thy light passions, now wav’ring as air,

Then leave thee, inconstant, to shame and despair!

 

Repent not, Matilda, return not to me:

Unavailing thy grief, thy repentance will be:

In vain will thy vows or thy smiles be resum’d,

For love, once extinguish’d, is never relum’d.

 

 

Maria’s Return

By Thomas Love Peacock

          The whit’ning ground

          In frost is bound;

   The snow is swiftly falling;

While coldly blows the northern breeze,

And whistles through the leafless trees,

   In hollow sounds appalling.

 

          On this cold plain,

          Now reach’d with pain,

   Once stood my father’s dwelling:

Where smiling pleasure once was found,

Now desolation frowns around,

   And wintry blasts are yelling.

 

          Hope’s visions wild

          My thoughts beguil’d,

   My earliest days delighting,

Till unsuspected treach’ry came,

Beneath affection’s specious name,

   The lovely prospect blighting.

 

          With many a wile

          Of blackest guile

   Did Henry first deceive me:

What winning words to him were giv’n!

He swore, by all the pow’rs of Heav’n,

   That he would never leave me.

 

          With fondest truth

          I lov’d the youth:

   My soul, to guilt a stranger,

Knew not, in those too simple hours,

That oft beneath the sweetest flow’rs

   Is couch’d the deadliest danger.

 

          With him to roam

          I fled my home;

   I burst the bonds of duty;

I thought my days in joy would roll;

But Henry hid a demon’s soul

   Beneath an angel’s beauty!

 

          Shall this poor heart

          E’er cease to smart?

   Oh never! never! never!

Did av’rice whisper thee, or pride,

False Henry! for a wealthier bride

   To cast me off for ever?

 

          My sire was poor:

          No golden store

   Had he, no earthly treasure:

I only could his griefs assuage,

The only pillar of his age,

   His only source of pleasure.

 

          With anguish wild,

          He miss’d his child,

   And long in vain he sought her:

The fiercest thunder-bolts of heav’n

Shall on thy guilty head be driv’n,

   Thou Disobedient Daughter!

 

          I feel his fears,

          I see his tears,

   I hear his groans of sadness:

My cruel falsehood seal’d his doom:

He seems to curse me from the tomb,

   And fire my brain to madness!

 

          Oh! keenly blow,

          While drifts the snow,

   The cold nocturnal breezes;

On me the gath’ring snow-flakes rest,

And colder grows my friendless breast;

   My very heart-blood freezes!

 

          ‘Tis midnight deep,

          And thousands sleep,

   Unknown to guilt and sorrow;

They think not of a wretch like me,

Who cannot, dare not, hope to see

   The rising light to-morrow!

 

          An outcast hurl’d

          From all the world,

   Whom none would love or cherish,

What now remains to end my woes,

But here, amid the deep’ning snows,

   To lay me down and perish?

 

          Death’s icy dart

          Invades my heart:

   Just Heav’n! all-good! all-seeing!

Thy matchless mercy I implore,

When I must wake, to sleep no more,

   In realms of endless being!

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Limbo w/ Mr. Gillespie

When is it ever enough? When does it just stop and become enough for you? When everything suffices and you keep living your semi charmed life.. I frankly think that people don't ever want things to be good enough. The misguided ones at least. Because if things were just content and there wasn't anything else you yearned for, what would you do with your time?

heh.

Such a twisted little way of thinking.

Of course if you didn't yearn for anything else, you could fill that time with appreciating and enjoying the very thing(s) that you fought so hard to get. The thing you yearned so long for. But no. You focus on what you don't have and what you can't get. Yet again! Funny thing, the brain is.. very funny thing.

I wonder if Dizzy Gillespie ever felt such an emotion. And if so, what advice would he give to me now.

Invictus

 Out of the night that covers me,

      Black as the pit from pole to pole,

I thank whatever gods may be

      For my unconquerable soul.

In the fell clutch of circumstance

      I have not winced nor cried aloud.

Under the bludgeonings of chance

      My head is bloody, but unbowed.

Beyond this place of wrath and tears

      Looms but the Horror of the shade,

And yet the menace of the years

      Finds and shall find me unafraid.

It matters not how strait the gate,

      How charged with punishments the scroll,

I am the master of my fate,

      I am the captain of my soul. 

 

                                     --William Ernest Henley

I Never Liked Anything Temporary

Unemployed, no longer, am I!

Chipotle was gracious enough to hire me and give me a shot. One that I really am grateful for, so I accepted it. I do need money. It does make the world go round. It is the root of all evil. Yet, sadly we all need it to "survive"*. I digress.    But money, essentially, cannot buy happiness. So when I find myself so disheartened at the amount that I'm getting, I feel like "one of them". The sort of person that runs their life on ranking, style or class. Instead of the type of person that allows love, peace and unity to run their life--which I know I am.

I suppose it's simply the backpedaling. That has something to do with it for sure. Although, it isn't as if I wasn't prepared to take that on. I guess once the realization latched on and set in, I looked around myself and saw a reality I didn't enjoy. A subtle, but very constant urge to throw my face into the fryer. Please don't get me wrong, I'm not depressed or regretting my decision, I'm just pessimistically hopeful.

When I think about the pay cut I'm taking and the lack of independence I have, I wanna backflip into a concrete wall. And I don't even know how to backflip! It makes me wanna learn how to backflip, perfect it, seek out the sturdiest concrete wall, measure the diameter, and then backflip into it.

But there are children making twenty-five cents an hour in some factory elsewhere. The gentle Buddhist in me keeps telling myself that. In addition to the friends back home that make me feel better and reminds me that this is only temporary.

KENNETH: You look yourself in the face dammit and tell yourself that you are the master of your fate and the captain of your soul!**

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

CHRIS: Keep working hard and good things will come. I'm trying to be more positive, maybe I can borrow some from you, but I still think about killing people almost daily. People suck everyday. I might just sell 10-12 guitars and just leave: aimlessly.

YOURS TRULY:  I have plenty of positivity to spare. Got some "back-up generators" set for the collapse of my patience.

I'm doing what I got to, to do what I want to...


It's as simple as that.







*Because that's how humans made it thousands of years, right?
**The next entry will be the poem he was referencing to. ^^The one above this one.

No Time But The Present

Being unemployed and having extra time on my hands has gotten me a-thinking about stuff. How is it that back in high school, when I was doing homework, projects, working a part-time job, having a boyfriend, cutting classes and being an insomniac, did I have the time to be artistic?* I find that pretty funny because now that I have all the time in the world, it seems like I have no time to let my creative mind flow. I used to be broke and inspired. Now--well I'm still broke, only uninspired. Maybe it was knowing that I had my entire life ahead of me that encouraged me to try to execute my dreams. And it's not that I don't still have an entire lifetime before me, I just mean, my motivation to actually do has shot down tremendously. Maybe not being challenged by my peers, or not having the means to bring these dreams of mine to life is what began my slow but steady journey to Lazy-Assville. Meh. Maybe not. Plenty of people, with much less, have succeeded in being fruitful with their attempts to make their dreams come true. It's just about trying. Or as Master Yoda would say, "Do or do not."

I must say, I've been doing an awful lot of  "do not-ing" for a shitload of years**. Living my life and being led around on a leash by my heart, sure, but maybe all of that was material for me to use later. Now, later!*** I'm gonna get back on top of this. I really am. Starting by retyping and editing my script, "Sex, Drugs & Cartoons". Here I go. I'm going off to do it.





*I guess the being an insomniac part took care of that wonder.
**4 years to be exact.
**Shout out to Now-&-Laters' for being so godamn delicious.

Two Weeks Outta The Valley

So it's been a little bit since my last update. Just trying to get settled in over on the good ole' West Coast. I must say things are going tremendously well. I'm a little surprised at the reactions to things going tremendously well, from people back home. I don't wanna say I think they were hoping things would fall apart. Definitely don't wanna say or think that. I just feel as though a lot of folks are simply so damn cynical, that maybe they thought, 'How could it possibly work out?' 

Maybe I've restored some hope in people. I'd like to think so. Hell, it's even restored a touch of faith in myself! I've always been a follow your heart kinda gal, and that takes some percentage of faith and hope, but never in a hundred years would I have imagined it could be this good. Or it would've been only that, just my imagination.

With that said, being away from my love has surely been an exercise of the heart. I've come back to Philly per request of my former employer. Two weeks of working and saying new hello's and new goodbye's. I must say I didn't expect to return home so quickly, but I'm happy that I have. I put out a few fires here and there, while being an ear to listen and a shoulder to literally cry on. Makes me feel useful. Not that I don't feel useful in my new life on "the best coast"*, I just feel like my absence has made people realize what a good commodity I am. Therefore, my latest return is greeted with anticipation and genuine affections. 

I must say, it's certainly a mind trip. I haven't been gone for very long, and yet, I feel like a sort of visitor. Familiar-being and a stranger all at the same time. Almost as if I'm a ghost just floating around my old hang outs, snickering and fluttering about. Retelling the same stories, answering the same questions, flashing the same smile. 

I know it may seem somewhat odd, but I find myself excited to go back... home?** My heart is there. My love is there. It's where I've decided to invest my future. Although, I have many many memories here and a bunch of people that could retain my attention, I'm afraid they've all lost to the mustache totin', D&D playin', Sigur Ros lovin', cartoon cell buyin' man that I've fallen head over feet for. 

He's simply the greatest.

*says who?! 

**It is where I lay my hat, afterall.