winds; relished thoughts
revel like oasis
wounded memories metamorphose
16 December 2005 @ 3:33 p.m.
I do not mean to cover up DD's post, but there is something urgent.
Gothchyld has been spammed by a lovesick internet friend...As you all know, she is already preoccupied with relationship, and the idea of dating someone whom you never met seem..randomly absurd..
below are the poets he used to romanticize her:
I love the poetry to the level of madness but guess what...
We are a liars, because
the truth of yesterday becomes a lie tomorrow,
whereas letters are fixed,
and we live by the letter of truth.
The love I feel for my friend, this year,
is different from the love I felt last year.
If it were not so, it would be a lie.
Yet we reiterate love! love! love!
as if it were a coin with a fixed value
instead of a flower that dies, and opens a different bud.
"D.H. Lawrence - Lies About Love"
I am a parasite of literature...so far...and want to be like this forever...but with time ,not we , our priorities change.
In the words of D.H.Lawrence...Close your eyes, my love, let me make you blind;
They have taught you to see
Only a mean arithmetic on the face of things,
A cunning algebra in the faces of men,
And God like geometry
Completing his circles, and working cleverly.
I'll kiss you over the eyes till I kiss you blind;
If I can—if any one could.
Then perhaps in the dark you'll have got what you want to find.
You've discovered so many bits, with your clever eyes,
*Parasite of literature comes from my poem 'A protest of banning on bookstores'.
Gothchyld faints, abruptly..on stage. Â