Picture & Poetry Monday

...Some more pictures that make me happy and one poem.

I do not love you except because I love you;
I go from loving to not loving you,
From waiting to not waiting for you
My heart moves from cold to fire.

I love you only because it's you the one I love;
I hate you deeply, and hating you
Bend to you, and the measure of my changing love for you
Is that I do not see you but love you blindly.

Maybe January light will consume
My heart with its cruel
Ray, stealing my key to true calm.

In this part of the story I am the one who
Dies, the only one, and I will die of love because I love you,
Because I love you, Love, in fire and blood.

-Pablo Neruda

Happy Poetry Month! (and other things that keep me from studying)

There's a poem in my head
like too many cups of coffee.
A pea under twenty eiderdowns.
A saddness in my heart like stone.
A telephone. And always my
Night madness that outs like bats
across this Texas sky.

I'm the crazy lady they warned you about
The she of rumor talked about -
and worse, who talks.

It's not secret.
I'm here. Under a cricle of light.
The light always on, resisting a glass,
an easy cigar. The kind

who reels the twilight sky.
Swoop circling.
I'm witch woman high
on tobacco and holy water.

I'm a woman delighted with her disasters.
They give me something to do.
A profession of sorts.
Keeps me industrious
And of a servicable use.

In dreams the origami of the brain
Opens like a fist, a pomegranate,
an expensive geometry.

Not true.
I haven't a clue
Why I'm rumpled tonight.

Choose your weapon.
Mine -- the telephone, my tongue.
Both black as a gun.

I have the magic of words,
the power to charm and kill at will.
To kill myself or to aim haphazardly.
And kill you.
-Sandra Cisneros, Night Madness Poem


April is Poetry Month. I know I'm a little late, but it's still April, so it counts. Not that anyone reading this blog has time to read, but if you find yourself wanting something good to read, I suggest The House on Mango Street by Sandra Cisneros. Amazing.

In other, infinitely more horrendous and miserable news, the Property outline is giving me a headache. A very large headache. Maybe gin will cure it.

And in "Check yourself before you wreck yourself" news, Beckett has taken to saying this on the regular. And he's added a sassy hip shake. As if to say, "You really better check yourself, fool." One more piece of evidence mounting that will prove that he is me in every way possible. Sorry, world.