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yes. this is my 3rd post of the day. someone stop me.
so... i was searching for an old favorite poem of mine by Edna St. Vincent Millay and i stumbled on another good one. yeah, and although it seems like all the ones that i like from her are about lost loves and unrequited loves and all that goes along with that, i swear i'm not falling back into that funk. well, i'm trying really hard not to.
sidenote: my hormones are outta control. my moods are swinging like crazy right now. it's a emotional rollercoaster ride that never seems to end and never seems to have a flat part for too long. i feel like these g forces are pulling my heart down. pulling it down fast. it hurts. literally. but that's a whole other thing. at the rate that my body's deteriorating on me... i'll be lucky to reach age 70. really lucky. i'd like to have grandkids by then. yeah, that'd be nice. i can't wait to have kids of my own. but i'm gonna have to wait 10 years maybe. yeah. or more. man, parenting is expensive.
this is getting really random.
so back to the poetry... here we go:
What Lips My Lips Have Kissed...
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 winter stands the lonely tree,
Nor knows what birds have vanished one by one,
Yet knows 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.
Sonnet
Time does not bring relief; you all have lied
Who told me time would ease me of my pain!
I miss him in the weeping of the rain;
I want him at the shrinking of the tide;
The old snows melt from every mountain-side,
And last year's leaves are smoke in every lane;
But last year's bitter loving must remain
Heaped on my heart, and my old thoughts abide!
There are a hundred places where I fear
To go, – so with his memory they brim!
And entering with relief some quiet place
Where never fell his foot or shone his face
I say, "There is no memory of him here!"
And so stand stricken, so remembering him!
sigh........
aren't they good!?! yeah... i need a good hug.
i miss my high school friends a lot right now. a whole lot |
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posted by Rita at 
