... even though emptiness has no feeling at all
Sorry, I don't particularly mean to be depressing but I'm trying to find some eloquence... some intelligence... that I've put aside in past semesters. I promise I will post something of substance in the near future... such as the story about my new and freakishly huge sketchbook. lol I really need to allocate some time to responding to comments and facebook stuff too. Time has always been faster than I... it must drink more Mountain Dew. lol Sleep is the worst form of procrastination for me right now... lol, actually I just typed "first worm" instead of "worst form" hahaha. Sorry, I've been trying to finish off a bottle of wine from last semester before it sours. Alcohol is my Ritalin sadly enough.... yet somehow I think its less damaging than actual Ritalin. hehe
Anyway, I did dream of snow a few nights ago. I dream of snow frequently... although maybe the air conditioning was set on too low of a temperature again. lol In the dream, I realized I must be dreaming so I woke myself... except what I thought was "awake" was in fact still "dream." I went to the door of my apartment and then to my window to see the snow... except the apartment looked abandoned... the windows and doors had been knocked out and covered with plastic. It seemed so real that I thought I might have been sleep-walking and so when I actually did awake, I checked to see if I had unlocked the door to look out at my dream-snow. lol In the past I have dream-IMed and dream-phonecalled people.... which is why I keep my messenger off more frequently. lol However, the poem is less to do with my dreams of winter and more to do with the silence in my mind... perhaps a product of academic apathy... or my own creation to save me from myself. It has frequently been a topic of much poetic diction.
Cold Thoughts
I dream of snow as my mind lay in winter.
The windows are broken and the drifts wander in.
I am bundled in memory yet what I can remember
Unravels quickly and my cover grows thin.
I can faintly hear the old song my lips sing,
But cannot decipher a single distinct word.
The syllables fall softly like a hollow rain
That soaks the ink of my soul, leaving all writing blurred.
What language remains for my private discourse…
To make lucid the epitaph of my own heart?
Alas I abandoned a smudged soul for silence,
Yet my inaudible hope still strives to impart.
Yet do I need such gravity for a weightless existence?
My old splendor is now static with enduring rime.
Am I as vacant as a milky sky in winter and so distant…
That I can’t feel the ameliorating touch of time?
I stir from my dream yet my mind still lay frozen,
And the sun in my heart still obscured by cold clouds.
Do remembrance’s blankets preserve my waning warmth…
Or are they nothing more now than burial shrouds?
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2 comments:
Dream IMing? That explains why you wanted to use my skull as a cup and drink my blood... Or was that PMS Leezle? :P (insert random quote from Avatar: The Abridged Series)
You shouldn't use alcohol to solve your problems like that--that's the second stage of alcoholism, but that begs to wonder where the first stage went... Probably out back for a kip. :P But seriously, don't drink when you study... It's times like that when I wake up covered in blood with a couple police officers looking down on me... Not cool. :(
Ok, creepy, ..., I was just downloading "http://www.mikseri.net/frozensilence/" and listening to 'commemoration' when I opened that post ...
However this post would really be a treasure for anyone pondering what to give you as a present for any next occasion. Only there's too much choice ...
'till next dream ;) *huggles*
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