I am tired of feeling everything deeply.
I am tired of turning moments into poetry.
I am tired of love, requited or un-.
I am tired of my mind.
In two days time it’s my birthday and this is my gift to myself:
No more obsessed feelings, no more poetry writing, no more melancholy, no more crying this month.
With the coming May I will start writing again, like a timid child, I will open up my heart again neither to him nor to anyone else from my past.
They already had their chance that they wasted.
Now they are out.
April is my time out and May a new chapter to “the story of our lives”.1
I know that something is only then over when you don’t even bother to say it out loud.
If I can just force myself in April, come May I won’t be bothered again.
For a happy birthday this is a genuine but painful gift; happy birthday dear self.
Beril
12/04/10
(1)"The story of our lives” by Mark Strand (1973)
Monday, April 12, 2010
A year long journey
You were the start to my journey into myself and even into my poetry.
When we first met I was a mess you pulled me out of and you opened my eyes.
I saw a glimpse of the world of opportunities that I’ve forgotten about.
How could I miss?
I was a closed seashell ready to be cracked open.
Along came you to peal my outer coat revealing all the things I kept inside.
The true me came out and I met myself for the first time in daylight, without shame or fear, I accepted myself for who I truly was.
Counted days always end quickly.
With the coming summer I had to fly but this time I had an aim.
Things had to end but somehow it felt like a start into a new friendship, into the new world you introduced me to.
I was so excited I couldn’t wait to dive in and I did, maybe a bit too fast.
I made lots of mistakes but I also learned from the past.
When the sun started disappearing for longer each day I realized your spell on me had flown away.
Old habits die hard; I was again at the same spot trying to settle down for the same mistakes, crying for the wrong people for wrong reasons but this time there were oceans between us.
I couldn’t drive to you then back to me and I broke into pieces like a little girl’s lollipop that crashed to ground.
I am on a different boat this time but my trip schedule is the same.
To jump out and swim to the shore of an island I haven’t been before, all I need is another you by my side.
To break this closed seashell and to stop it from sinking to the bottom of the sea hell1 where seashells love living in, all I need is another you by my side.
Remind me who I have been.
Beril
12/04/10
(1)Dan Deacon&Liam Lynch "Drinking out of cups". To watch: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=skCV2L0c6K0
When we first met I was a mess you pulled me out of and you opened my eyes.
I saw a glimpse of the world of opportunities that I’ve forgotten about.
How could I miss?
I was a closed seashell ready to be cracked open.
Along came you to peal my outer coat revealing all the things I kept inside.
The true me came out and I met myself for the first time in daylight, without shame or fear, I accepted myself for who I truly was.
Counted days always end quickly.
With the coming summer I had to fly but this time I had an aim.
Things had to end but somehow it felt like a start into a new friendship, into the new world you introduced me to.
I was so excited I couldn’t wait to dive in and I did, maybe a bit too fast.
I made lots of mistakes but I also learned from the past.
When the sun started disappearing for longer each day I realized your spell on me had flown away.
Old habits die hard; I was again at the same spot trying to settle down for the same mistakes, crying for the wrong people for wrong reasons but this time there were oceans between us.
I couldn’t drive to you then back to me and I broke into pieces like a little girl’s lollipop that crashed to ground.
I am on a different boat this time but my trip schedule is the same.
To jump out and swim to the shore of an island I haven’t been before, all I need is another you by my side.
To break this closed seashell and to stop it from sinking to the bottom of the sea hell1 where seashells love living in, all I need is another you by my side.
Remind me who I have been.
Beril
12/04/10
(1)Dan Deacon&Liam Lynch "Drinking out of cups". To watch: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=skCV2L0c6K0
Sunday, April 11, 2010
Out-comes: a night out
Another aimless night out
Ended with tears again
Crying to your absence.
Crying out loud how much
I miss you already oh I do.
Alcohol mixed within my blood
Is not the only one in it,
You are in me as well.
Any test would show
There is more to it.
That more is you, oh it’s you.
Wailing out loud, drenched in tears,
No one really cares on the streets.
They’re about their own fun.
They’re about their own life.
I am alone again with my own sadness.
The tears are just me, just my madness.
It’s never going to be the same again.
Checking out if you’re checking out
That’s hopeless, that’s unfortunate
You won’t remember me as much as I do
That’s the reality, that’s heartbreaking news.
Never will I accept the truth, it’s too true.
Love me, miss me, kiss me, hug me,
Never will happen but still imagined.
Want me, have me, once more and more
Never will eventuate, it’s now too late.
Just cry once more and be done,
That’s how it’s supposed to be,
Be done, he’s done, I got to be done,
It’s time by now, bye now, I’m gone.
Beril
11/04/10
ps) The short story behind this poem: It was written on a toxic state to be found by me this morning on my desktop, a big surprise starting the day! Turns out I don't really need to think or have a clear mind to be able to write. I'm posting it as it is: no second-thinking involved, no editing done.
Ended with tears again
Crying to your absence.
Crying out loud how much
I miss you already oh I do.
Alcohol mixed within my blood
Is not the only one in it,
You are in me as well.
Any test would show
There is more to it.
That more is you, oh it’s you.
Wailing out loud, drenched in tears,
No one really cares on the streets.
They’re about their own fun.
They’re about their own life.
I am alone again with my own sadness.
The tears are just me, just my madness.
It’s never going to be the same again.
Checking out if you’re checking out
That’s hopeless, that’s unfortunate
You won’t remember me as much as I do
That’s the reality, that’s heartbreaking news.
Never will I accept the truth, it’s too true.
Love me, miss me, kiss me, hug me,
Never will happen but still imagined.
Want me, have me, once more and more
Never will eventuate, it’s now too late.
Just cry once more and be done,
That’s how it’s supposed to be,
Be done, he’s done, I got to be done,
It’s time by now, bye now, I’m gone.
Beril
11/04/10
ps) The short story behind this poem: It was written on a toxic state to be found by me this morning on my desktop, a big surprise starting the day! Turns out I don't really need to think or have a clear mind to be able to write. I'm posting it as it is: no second-thinking involved, no editing done.
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Quoted Poems: Meeting and Passing by Robert Frost
As I went down the hill along the wall
There was a gate I had leaned at for the view
And had just turned from when I first saw you
As you came up the hill. We met. But all
We did that day was mingle great and small
Footprints in summer dust as if we drew
The figure of our being less than two
But more than one as yet. Your parasol
Pointed the decimal off with one deep thrust.
And all the time we talked you seemed to see
Something down there to smile at in the dust.
(Oh, it was without prejudice to me!)
Afterward I went past what you had passed
Before we met and you what I had passed.
Robert Frost
1920
Note: I referred to this poem many times throughout my posts, it's about time it takes its place in my blog. For some reason everybody knows about "The road not taken" but this beautiful poem by Robert Frost - which is also the very first poem that aroused my interest towards poetry in English- is not as well recognized.
There was a gate I had leaned at for the view
And had just turned from when I first saw you
As you came up the hill. We met. But all
We did that day was mingle great and small
Footprints in summer dust as if we drew
The figure of our being less than two
But more than one as yet. Your parasol
Pointed the decimal off with one deep thrust.
And all the time we talked you seemed to see
Something down there to smile at in the dust.
(Oh, it was without prejudice to me!)
Afterward I went past what you had passed
Before we met and you what I had passed.
Robert Frost
1920
Note: I referred to this poem many times throughout my posts, it's about time it takes its place in my blog. For some reason everybody knows about "The road not taken" but this beautiful poem by Robert Frost - which is also the very first poem that aroused my interest towards poetry in English- is not as well recognized.
Thursday, April 8, 2010
Requited Love
When we first met, I was struggling
But you didn’t help me,
You were cold and inaccessible.
With every resolution I realized
That you were behind it, hiding behind
As you never really liked the attention
That you got by so many, so unnecessary
You thought that it was.
Along the way we opened up to each other.
You accepted me as I did you.
I received anonymous gifts
I knew they were from you
But I still wasn’t ready for you,
So I ran away, every chance I got,
I left you, travelled far and far
You never said a word
You always knew I’d be back
And you welcomed me each time
With your unusual way of showing love.
It was raining yesterday
I wanted to abandon you again
Go away to far away
Other cities were a plane ride away
Calling me, wanting me even
More than you did maybe
I wanted to but I couldn’t
Because I still loved you
Even on a wet and lonely day.
Today once again waking up
In your arms I saw that it was
What a lovely, shiny day!
What a requited love!
Oh, London, London,
It’s now mutual;
It’s you with whom I’m in love.
Beril
08/04/10
But you didn’t help me,
You were cold and inaccessible.
With every resolution I realized
That you were behind it, hiding behind
As you never really liked the attention
That you got by so many, so unnecessary
You thought that it was.
Along the way we opened up to each other.
You accepted me as I did you.
I received anonymous gifts
I knew they were from you
But I still wasn’t ready for you,
So I ran away, every chance I got,
I left you, travelled far and far
You never said a word
You always knew I’d be back
And you welcomed me each time
With your unusual way of showing love.
It was raining yesterday
I wanted to abandon you again
Go away to far away
Other cities were a plane ride away
Calling me, wanting me even
More than you did maybe
I wanted to but I couldn’t
Because I still loved you
Even on a wet and lonely day.
Today once again waking up
In your arms I saw that it was
What a lovely, shiny day!
What a requited love!
Oh, London, London,
It’s now mutual;
It’s you with whom I’m in love.
Beril
08/04/10
Tuesday, April 6, 2010
Back to civilization
Back to civilization
Is being back to the old thoughts.
Haunted by millions
Waiting to be resolved,
Sleepless nights are the worst.
Miss the farm.
Miss the livestock.
Miss the days
When the only worry was today.
Back in charge again,
Piled up responsibilities
Are heavy, trying to carry
Is more exhausting than
A day in the country.
Miss the cold.
Miss the sweat.
Miss the days
That you could count till they end.
Back to reality of the chaos,
Not knowing where to start,
How to organize the mess
You live in or you are.
It's the erstwhile routine, the same bygone days.
Miss the agony.
Miss the famishment.
Miss the days
When you could miss the old days.
Beril
6/4/10
Is being back to the old thoughts.
Haunted by millions
Waiting to be resolved,
Sleepless nights are the worst.
Miss the farm.
Miss the livestock.
Miss the days
When the only worry was today.
Back in charge again,
Piled up responsibilities
Are heavy, trying to carry
Is more exhausting than
A day in the country.
Miss the cold.
Miss the sweat.
Miss the days
That you could count till they end.
Back to reality of the chaos,
Not knowing where to start,
How to organize the mess
You live in or you are.
It's the erstwhile routine, the same bygone days.
Miss the agony.
Miss the famishment.
Miss the days
When you could miss the old days.
Beril
6/4/10
Sunday, April 4, 2010
Let go of my dreams
The only thing that belongs to me
And also that is known only by me
Is my dreams; they are me.
It doesn't matter how much I want
It doesn't matter how painful it gets
No, no, no, never ever, never again.
The only thing that I cannot control
And that takes over me and beyond
Is my dreams; they are my core.
It doesn't matter how I screwed it all up
It doesn't matter whatever all was
No, no, no, never ever, never again.
Please! Hear me, hear me out, please!
Oh never ever, no never again
Can I have you, no never again.
Please! Hear me, hear me out, please!
Oh I miss you but oh I need you
To let go of my dreams, oh, please!
No, no, no, never ever, never again
Can I have you, no never again
Oh please, let go of my dreams.
Beril
24/03/10
And also that is known only by me
Is my dreams; they are me.
It doesn't matter how much I want
It doesn't matter how painful it gets
No, no, no, never ever, never again.
The only thing that I cannot control
And that takes over me and beyond
Is my dreams; they are my core.
It doesn't matter how I screwed it all up
It doesn't matter whatever all was
No, no, no, never ever, never again.
Please! Hear me, hear me out, please!
Oh never ever, no never again
Can I have you, no never again.
Please! Hear me, hear me out, please!
Oh I miss you but oh I need you
To let go of my dreams, oh, please!
No, no, no, never ever, never again
Can I have you, no never again
Oh please, let go of my dreams.
Beril
24/03/10
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