If I could buy more time to be a poet, I would
Take you somewhere we can be alone
In an abandoned castle perhaps where our stories once lived.
I'll read my verses and you will listen
And not understand a thing but we'll hear the walls shake
And the ground will feel like water under our feet.
You will lean over for a kiss when it is over
And I will give up my lips like giving up my pride
Knowing that words are currents that must flow through skin
Before they can enter the mind.
And one day you will realize how the words
That did not make any sense to you
Were actually the prayers that you have left
Unuttered, folded away in a secret place
That even I cannot reach.
And however so if you the poet is X and the poetee Y, then Y may actually have found the realized prayer in this piece but have no idea about it? So it's like even if X and Y may be a complete biological practical match, they might still even break up for the reason that they couldn't make sense of whether they're the right final fit, which, unbeknownst to them, they excruciatingly, however difficult to imagine, really are. It's like the answer is there but you give up because you're not convinced that you see it. And so however but the poem is scary. So it affects me, which is good.
ReplyDeleteThis also reminds me of the Fiona Apple song that just became one of my bone-chilling favorites of all time: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EfXvIs9bojM
-ny
Lyrics:
ReplyDeleteMy cheeks were reflecting the longest wavelength
My fan was folded up and grazing my forehead
And I kept touching my neck
To guide your eye to where I wanted you to kiss me when we find some time alone.
My scars were reflecting the mist in your headlights
I looked like a neon zebra shaking rain off her stripes
And the rivulets had you riveted to the places that I wanted you to kiss me when we find some time alone
And then we can do anything we want
And then we can do anything we want
And then we can do anything we want
We started out sipping the water
And now we try to swallow the wave
And we try not to let those bastards get us down
We don't worry anymore cause we know when the guff comes we get brave
After all, look around
It's happening, it's happening, it's happening now
Let's pretend we're eight years old playing hookey
I'll draw on the wall and you can play UFC rookie
Then we'll grow up
Take our clothes off
And you remind me that I wanted you to kiss me when we find some time alone
And then we can do anything we want
And then we can do anything we want
And then we can do anything we want
And then we can do anything we want
Another way of rationalizig it: X - Y = Y * 2 + X / the invisible answer
ReplyDeleteLoved the lyrics! And I kept touching my neck to guide your eye to where I wanted you to kiss me? what the! :D Any more where this came from?
Mathematical! Explain it please:X - Y = Y * 2 + X / the invisible answer . Everything looks solid and maybe religious (?) in math.
ReplyDeleteBasically the entire "The Idler Wheel..." Fiona Apple album seems to be as specific and touching as this, rhythm- and lyrics-wise. The previous ones mostly didn't hit me whole, but some are amazing.
Will search for the album :) The two sides of the equation pretty much explain each other. You can also think of X-Y as the direct consequence of Y*2+X/the invisible answer, and vice versa..
ReplyDelete@_@ Gaack- Math!
ReplyDeleteI had no (bloody) idea what you two are talking about so I'll just go and comment on the poem, independently.
How I wish to understand it in the most simplest terms as what the words mean in their own naked letters but knowing you, I say it's far more than a poignant romance between a man and a woman. I don't know. I could read it in a hundred ways and you're just going to mess up my mind with it. A small request: will you make a happy ending next time?
Hahaha! Re happy endings- I think they're subjective. You can read this piece and see 2 happy people. Could be one is happy, and the other uncertain(which does not automatically translate to being unhappy). Or could be both are struggling with each other but it is unknown to both of them that they are actually the right fit, as NY mentions. And so they are happy but they don't know it.
ReplyDeleteAnd there's your happy ending. :)
Woah~ That's so sly, Han.
ReplyDeleteAnd that's what differentiate a poem from a law.
Poem's number of interpretations is as myriad as the number of minds; the law on the other hand rests on the hand with the gavel. Then what's said is said, what's done is done.
Period.
Sly is my least favorite word now, but I agree with gmazeroom's idea of the law being batshit crazy and probably ZCARY. But sige lang, I still dream of constitutions in line with a song.
ReplyDelete