So undone by wishing, though its hiding shore, I saw
No there are work for whom has love, so doing one should not a madman’s fate!
As to find it all of the
Most men come across my are a figure in the things heart’s wisdom,
Existence is the sky that where pulls itself in particular and bright and heard, in fact, or that you’d tried to blur
On a sense of the surface: where I don’t want to birds,
You for the washing of very the map there’s a way these words.
Only the surface where it better poet and clear, and
Nowhere, in the bliss this or that few can see smiling, would look at the plate.
Having borrowed a shadow place and also does so much
For this information, it in the just images: spirit for interpretation where it: took only one’s own religion to fool in images; just one should not made by narrow throated, whiney, high pitched singing,
but on the road to other believe that moon’s
Full state: and cursed and drink
Deep and sound: one should not made by the windswept wet hot
With light of me, that looks like a lost.
14 JUL 2003
Encountered at LJ user arisbe’s place … much like the Burroughs Cut-Up Generator found elsewhere on the ‘Net, but this one doesn’t interject Burrough’s words into your own, simply cuts up your journal entries and combines them in random ways. You can refresh and it gives you different things…quite interesting, and in fact, if you subscribe to Burroughs’ notion, a very accurate mirror of your inner most thoughts.
Ah, could I be quite so fully undone
by that which being shown me made me whole,
Love? To see it in just one place, begun,
then its ending, elsewhere, would leave my soul
lost. To pine for that which in visions lives,
but cannot manifest in fact, or clothe
itself in flesh: such limitation gives
new life to heaven and hell, being both.
Dante, were you truly in love, your eyes
would behold no other sight save that state,
and your undoing would be undisguised
delight – called by some fools a madman’s fate!
Ah, to be so undone, to find magic
in the world as it is, is not tragic.
14 JUL 2003
For whom has Love so undone you?
I, smiling, would look at them and say nothing.
— Dante Alighieri, La Vita Nuova
You never told me that you’d tried to change;
all of this time I just thought that you were strange.
You never said those magic words
that turned our hearts from rocks to birds.
You never tried to understand:
all I wanted was the promised land;
you never saw those tears I cried
when the phonograph broke down and died.
Ah, you’re living in another world
Ah, is it easy to laugh at me, girl?
Have you found the things that make it all worthwhile?
Have you touched the sky, or seen an angel smile?
Is it better to have substance, or have style?
You never reached inside and felt around
while you were floating high above me on the ground;
you never stopped to cut the strings
that tied me to your rhinestone wings.
You never promised me the stars,
but drove me, often, all around, in fancy cars,
to visit lost and lonely souls
who lived in broken, plastic bowls.
You’ve lived your life in another world
Is that anything to be proud of?
Is it easy to imagine that you’re anywhere
When the circus of your life comes around?
You told me that you never learned to dance;
what is anything worth if you don’t take a chance?
If you never learn to look around,
how can anything that’s lost be found?
Sometimes, I wish it took only these words;
like a simple spell cast out in the sky
that turned hard, jagged rocks to gentle birds,
gave the stubborn wingless the will to fly.
But “fish gotta swim, and birds gotta fly”;
reality’s not made just by wishing,
though there are those who think that to just cry
out “catfish” is a method of fishing.
Still, in a way, these words are work enough;
Alone, they move no mountains, as they drip
along the edge where the finish is rough –
but winding their slow way, they too may slip
to the sea, and wear away a whole coast.
Perhaps, by seeming least, they do the most.
14 JUL 2003