Poetry and a record in bath.
Mindless poetic musing in the soft echo of the bathroom while the record player plays in the other room. The door is slightly ajar, so the music can be heard.
somewhere i have never travelled, gladly beyond
any experience, your eyes have their silence:
in your most frail gesture are things which enclose me,
or which i cannot touch because they are too near
your slightest look easily will unclose me
though i have closed myself as fingers,
you open always petal by petal myself as Spring opens
(touching skillfully, mysteriously) her first rose
or if your wish be to close me, i and
my life will shut very beautifully, suddenly,
as when the heart of this flower imagines
the snow carefully everywhere descending;
nothing which we are to perceive in this world equals
the power of your intense fragility: whose texture
compels me with the colour of its countries,
rendering death and forever with each breathing
(i do not know what it is about you that closes
and opens; only something in me understands
the voice of your eyes is deeper than all roses)
nobody, not even the rain, has such small hands
Comments for "Poetry and a record in bath."
License details for "Poetry and a record in bath."
Creative Commons Sampling Plus 1.0 License.
- Mixed Birds Chirping by -k-is_the_author +)
- Squizzing sponge by By Mariusz jasionowicz - RareSound Production - www.raresound.co.uk +)
- Water in bathtub by By Mariusz jasionowicz - RareSound Production - www.raresound.co.uk +)
- Claire De Lune Vinyl Version by Debussy *)
- Poetry Ben Whishaw by E. E. Cummings *)
- Record player static by http://www.freesound.org/people/ALLANZ10D/ +)
- shower drops by RareSound from www.freesound.com +)
*) Soundsnap.com license