Tuesday, July 17, 2012

the cusp of wondering




I keep your chair warm with my loneliness.
(The fire burned out so long ago
that the flames have turned to ash
even in my memory.)

The grandfather clock still ticks,
but never proclaims the right time.
The flowers in the vase have created their own autumn
of brown petals on the table.

The tea is always cold here.
Bookmarks become cramped,
always stifled between the same pages.

Everything bears the stains of waiting:

the yellowing piano keys,

the lamps and surfaces now grey with dust,

and most stained of all: the demilunes under my eyes.
They are a shade of purple that can only be achieved by combining
the blue of sadness and the cranberry of wistful patience,
stirring gently,
and thinning with a handful of watery sighs.

I miss the forests of ink in your mind,
I miss your fingers sailing the tangled sea of my hair.
But most of all, I miss not being forever on the cusp of wondering:
forever waiting, frozen for something
that may never return.


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I don't have much to say about this piece, except I wrote it a couple weeks ago and it's one of the better things I've written in the past 6 months. The self-portrait is about 2 years old. In fact, another photo from that 'session' can be found somewhere on this blog. I figured out how to blur parts of the picture, so of course I went for my face. ;)

I stayed up past 3 AM listening to my demons nattering, and have been in a proper foul mood today. But I am now in possession of a flapper dress (vintage, though not from the 20s), a new bio of Freddie Mercury is coming in for me at the library, and I found free sheet music for Fleetwood Mac's 'Songbird', so perhaps today won’t be a total wash after all.

('Songbird' is one of my favourite songs at the moment.)




20 comments:

  1. That's a beautiful poem! I love the photo of you too, it looks so vintage. :)

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    1. Thank you so much, Marian! :) I'm glad you think you! I was pleased with how it turned out. I think I owe it all to the dress. :)

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  2. That photo is dreamy! It looks like something from Wuthering Heights <3 <3

    Your words are beautiful as always! I hope your mood subsides :D a life with family, friends, music, dancing and ant and dec in it can never be that bad! :D :D xxx

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    1. Just call me Catherine, hehe. ;) Thank you! ♥ ♥

      Aww, thank you, sweet Tilly! This is quite true. Especially the family part. And Ant and Dec. :D xxx

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  3. You look like you belong in another era, not near not distant. i love it! Esp your hair (gasp!)

    p.s. Your poem is beautiful too. You will always be a favorite of mine and I can't wait until i can read your works on published books Melee! That would be very lovely! ♥

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    1. That is a perfect compliment. xxx (My hair is especially fantastic in that photo! I wish I would look that way all the time. XD)

      P.S. Oh, haze! You are just an angel of encouragement. Thank you infinitely. ♥

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    2. hehehe!
      p/s: hhmmmm.. the picture on my blog was an accident, i didn't know it was published.. hehe. that you btw, melee!

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    3. Hehe, I hate it when things like that happen. The internet is so vexing at times. XD

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  4. Love, love this, Melee. My favorites..?

    "The tea is always cold here."

    "the cranberry of wistful patience"

    "thinning with a handful of watery sighs"

    "fingers sailing the tangled sea of my hair."

    I really can't tell where to stop.

    I will be here reading this, and reading this. And I will be first in line to buy your book.

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    1. Oh Della - Thank you, thank you! At this point, if I ever get a book out, I will personally come to your house and give it to you while burbling incoherent gratefulness. xxx

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  5. "and most stained of all: the demilunes under my eyes.
    They are a shade of purple that can only be achieved by combining
    the blue of sadness and the cranberry of wistful patience,
    stirring gently,
    and thinning with a handful of watery sighs."

    Ahhhhh, so pretty. I really like the song you posted, as well as the mysterious self-portrait ;) It's so cool that you have a flapper dress! Have you worn it yet? I've been considering dressing up as a flapper for Halloween, just as a kind of release for all the 1920's info packed into me. Gads. Remind me not to write another historical-ish novel anytime soon, haha.

    I'm glad you're doing well :D

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    1. Thank you so much! It makes me so happy you enjoyed everything, hehe. :) So far I've only worn the dress to try on, but I hope I can find some good opportunities to wear it. If not, I'm not opposed to playing dress-up with myself. :D
      You should definitely dress up as a flapper, for whatever reason! Hahaha, I'm probably not the best person for that job. I would probably encourage you to write another historical novel. ;)

      I hope you are doing well too! :)

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  6. Thank you...

    for putting words to the things I can't say myself

    for using "cranberry" and "wistful" in the same sentence

    and for letting me tuck the following line into my reticule for future usage:

    The tea is always cold here.

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    1. My lovely wanderer - thank you for making me feel that my words are not just pointless drivel spurted out into the great blackness. I thank you infinitely. xxx

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  7. I'm rather sure that I commented already but I suppose that happened only in my head. So.

    I absolutely love love love this poem! (Dare not call this a mere piece Beth, it's pure poetry my dear!) I would quote my favourite lines but I'm afraid if I did I'd have to quote every line. Beautiful, beautiful, beautiful.

    Ah, and that portrait. I love it so. (I found that other photo as well ;)

    I love you xxx (this is something I feel I need to say all the time)

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    1. Since I didn't receive the comment you made only in your head, I'm glad you came back. :D

      Oh, my darling Lena! Thank you sososo much, lovely.

      Aww. *blush* You found it! You win the prize! ...Which is sadly non-existent. ;)

      I love you too, I hope you know! (I feel the need to say it too. That I love you, that is, not that I love myself. :P)

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  8. Ah, those fingers. You did well, and I like the picture too.


    /Avy

    http://mymotherfuckedmickjagger.blogspot.com

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    1. Thank you very much for your kind words and for dropping by, Avy. :)

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Silhouettes of a secret. A story told over a cuppa. Or perhaps just sitting on that stone bench, basking in the moonlight... and not saying anything at all.


("I can no other answer make but thanks, and thanks, and ever thanks." -Shakespeare, Twelfth Night)