Friday, July 18, 2014

Perverse Pleasure

Reunion

BY CAROLYN FORCHÉ

Just as he changes himself, in the end eternity changes him. 
—Mallarmé

On the phonograph, the voice
of a woman already dead for three
decades, singing of a man
who could make her do anything.   
On the table, two fragile   
glasses of black wine,
a bottle wrapped in its towel.   
It is that room, the one
we took in every city, it is
as I remember: the bed, a block   
of moonlight and pillows.   
My fingernails, pecks of light   
on your thighs.
The stink of the fire escape.   
The wet butts of cigarettes   
you crushed one after another.   
How I watched the morning come   
as you slept, more my son   
than a man ten years older.   
How my breasts feel, years   
later, the tongues swishing   
in my dress, some yours, some   
left by other men.
Since then, I have always   
wakened first, I have learned   
to leave a bed without being   
seen and have stood
at the washbasins, wiping oil   
and salt from my skin,
staring at the cupped water   
in my two hands.
I have kept everything
you whispered to me then.
I can remember it now as I see you   
again, how much tenderness we could   
wedge between a stairwell   
and a police lock, or as it was,   
as it still is, in the voice
of a woman singing of a man
who could make her do anything.

Monday, June 9, 2014

Some words and lies

This I say to you
In the sad guise of a verse I know you'll never read
I don't keep promises I don't make.
You have to understand...
And not be petulant about imagined unrealities
Sometimes I am tired too
And all the world is not about you
And try to understand - yes, I am avoiding you
I like my bleakness and my oblivion
And my dark shadows are shelters
I need to hide and I need to shield
The secrets I can't reveal
Some things are better not stirred
Some words are best not said
So, yes, I am a coward and I will refrain
From speaking out when you are vain
And sometimes, when you act out of hand
I will sigh and laugh it off
As a charm and when
I die some more inside
I hope you never see me cry
I don't want to explain sometimes
I just want the loneliness
And no reasons to answer why
I think that's why I lie...
I hope you're happy, I wish you well
And it doesn't have to be me you tell
I wish you all the best in life
Just let me be, just let me be.

Thursday, February 6, 2014

Drink with your eyes

Not like that

I don't share... I mean I share things (heck! I'll even give it away if you ask!) And I am empathetic... But I can't share feelings of my own... I can't share my personal space...
Not that anyone wants to share... not that anyone's asking... but my personal shit is mine and I will resolve it... or not.
I feel afraid of so many things- rational or irrational, of death, failure, even success... most of all, probably of dying alone... but I can't tell anyone how it hurts when it hurts... it's my cross to bear and no one else should have to lend their shoulder or their time...
Honestly, I am not asking you to solve my problems... but it'll be nice to know there's someone to listen... not help - just listen... just listen.

Tuesday, February 4, 2014

No cry- not this time

What sort of a 33 yr old cries on listening to a maudlin "sambhala hain maine" on the radio?

Answer: "The type of person who cried herself to sleep listening to these stupid songs years ago after a break up!"

Eww for then and for now... this has been a sad sad day on so many counts... but nothing so tragic as this one! :-P

Monday, February 3, 2014

Life's Lessons

All of you have busy lives, and I apparently have none. Thanks for letting me know exactly where I stand with you - nowhere.