All these words they make no sense

I find bliss in ignorance.

It Isn’t Possible to Love and Part

Anniversary:

Nothing's changed except the view.
The tree grows down from a bird,
the strong grass pulls up the earth
to a hill. Wade here, my dear,
through green shallows of daisies.
I hear the voice talking that is dead
behind the voice that is talking now.
The shaping congregations
sail over in a barge of clouds
indifferent to us below.
The more they go they come again.
The clocks of the smoky town
strike a quiet grating sound.
Tomorrow will be the same.
Two sit on this hill and count,
two moving from the two that stayed. 

What happens to a flame blown out?
What perishes? Only the view,
never my magnified hand in yours 
whatever hurt and angers done.
I breathe in air the dead breathed out.
When first you inclined your face
to mine, my sweet ally came,
with your brown eyes purely wide.
My right hand on your left breast
I said, I have little to tell my dear.
For the pure bird, a pure cage.
Oh the silence that you lost
blind in the pandemonium
of the kiss and ruined was.
My dear, my dear, what perishes ?
I hear this voice in a voice to come. 

Dannie Abse.

The Power of Rock Compels Us

Wonder if Dr. Teeth and the Electric Mayhem caught Metallica in Seattle back in '89.

Bob Ross Has Entered the Chat

Your World:

Your world is as big as you make it.

I know, for I used to abide

In the narrowest nest in a corner,

My wings pressing close to my side.

 

But I sighted the distant horizon

Where the skyline encircled the sea

And I throbbed with a burning desire

To travel this immensity.

 

I battered the cordons around me

And cradled my wings on the breeze,

Then soared to the uttermost reaches

With rapture, with power, with ease!

Georgia Douglas Johnson. 

They're the cathedrals of our time, someone said

Not me.

No Candy-Colored Clown

In My Dreams:

In my dreams I am always saying goodbye and riding away,   

Whither and why I know not nor do I care.

And the parting is sweet and the parting over is sweeter,   

And sweetest of all is the night and the rushing air.

In my dreams they are always waving their hands and saying goodbye,

And they give me the stirrup cup and I smile as I drink,   

I am glad the journey is set, I am glad I am going,

I am glad, I am glad, that my friends don't know what I think.

Stevie Smith.

When your die is cast

She'll have the final laugh at you.

Honestly, Still Not Ready

The Animal Store:

If I had a hundred dollars to spend,

    Or maybe a little more,

I’d hurry as fast as my legs would go

    Straight to the animal store.

I wouldn’t say, “How much for this or that?”

    “What kind of a dog is he?”

I’d buy as many as rolled an eye,

    Or wagged a tail at me!

I’d take the hound with the drooping ears

    That sits by himself alone;

Cockers and Cairns and wobbly pups

    For to be my very own.

I might buy a parrot all red and green,

    And the monkey I saw before,

If I had a hundred dollars to spend,

    Or maybe a little more.

Rachel Field.

I took my love to have and to hold

Drowning in the river.

I Know You’ll Be a Star in Somebody Else’s Sky

“Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art”:

Bright star, would I were stedfast as thou art—

         Not in lone splendour hung aloft the night

And watching, with eternal lids apart,

         Like nature's patient, sleepless Eremite,

The moving waters at their priestlike task

         Of pure ablution round earth's human shores,

Or gazing on the new soft-fallen mask

         Of snow upon the mountains and the moors—

No—yet still stedfast, still unchangeable,

         Pillow'd upon my fair love's ripening breast,

To feel for ever its soft fall and swell,

         Awake for ever in a sweet unrest,

Still, still to hear her tender-taken breath,

And so live ever—or else swoon to death.

John Keats.

If I stared too long, I'd probably break down and cry

That time we got married on the beach.  (September 18, 2016)

We used to laugh, we used to sing

We used to dance, we had our own scene.

If Memory Serves

Marriage:

   So different, this man
And this woman:
A stream flowing
In a field

William Carlos Williams.

#throwbackthursday

Oregon coast.  (2016)