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Hypersynaesthesia

the colours in your head

5.02.2005

Seeing as I completely and utterly missed National Poetry Month, I thought I would make up for that by putting up one of the few love poems I can stomach, though it is on the slushy side. This poem is in Alex Soderberg's honour-- she first made me read it, and I happened to stumble across it today, so... here:

(of course, the poem in the greater sense of it being lovey-dovey is directed to Jura. But that goes without saying, really. Ack! Saccharine! Yeuch!)

Mad Girl's Love Song - Sylvia Plath

I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead;

I lift my lids and all is born again.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

The stars go waltzing out in blue and red,
And arbitrary blackness gallops in:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
I dreamed that you bewitched me into bed
And sung me moon-struck, kissed me quite insane.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

God topples from the sky, hell's fires fade:
Exit seraphim and Satan's men:
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
I fancied you'd return the way you said,
But I grow old and I forget your name.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

I should have loved a thunderbird instead;
At least when spring comes they roar back again.
I shut my eyes and all the world drops dead.
(I think I made you up inside my head.)

4 Comments:

At 5:40 PM, May 02, 2005, Anonymous Anonymous said...

As for love poems I can stand, I like "It's Raining in Love" , by Richard Brautigan

I don't know what it is,
but I distrust myself
when I start to like a girl
a lot.

It makes me nervous.
I don't say the right things
or perhaps I start
to examine,
evaluate,
compute
what I am saying.

If I say, "Do you think it's going to rain?"
and she says, "I don't know,"
I start thinking: Does she really like me?

In other words
I get a little creepy.

A friend of mine once said,
"It's twenty times better to be friends
with someone
than it is to be in love with them."

I think he's right and besides,
it's raining somewhere, programming flowers
and keeping snails happy.
That's all taken care of.

BUT

if a girl likes me a lot
and starts getting real nervous
and suddenly begins asking me funny questions
and looks sad if I give the wrong answers
and she says things like,
"Do you think it's going to rain?"
and I say, "It beats me,"
and she says, "Oh,"
and looks a little sad
at the clear blue California sky,
I think: Thank God, it's you, baby, this time
instead of me.

 
At 5:42 PM, May 02, 2005, Blogger Alex said...

Ooh! I like that! Thank you!

 
At 6:19 PM, May 02, 2005, Anonymous Anonymous said...

My other favorite is by Edna St. Vincent Millay

What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why,
I have forgotten, and what arms have lain
Under my head till morning; but the rain
Is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh
Upon the glass and listen for reply;
And in my heart there stirs a quiet pain
For unremembered lads that not again
Will turn to me at midnight with a cry.
Thus in the winter stands a lonely tree,
Nor knows what birds have vanished one by one,
Yet know its boughs more silent than before:
I cannot say what loves have come and gone;
I only know that summer sang in me
A little while, that in me sings no more.

 
At 10:10 PM, May 02, 2005, Blogger Alex said...

I also quite enjoyed that one... I haven't read many of her poems, but the few I have I became instantly enamoured of. Thank you so much for posting those!

 

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