What's your favorite disguise? [/meta]
posted by letter shredder @ 11:59 a.m. on 1/20/2006
"Great art is about conflict and pain and guilt and longing and love disguised as sex and sex disguised as love..."
-- Lester Bangs, Almost Famous
Tuesday, January 31, 2006
Trample My Heart...
I was cleaning my Yahoo!Mail folders when I found this poem.
Ice sent it to me when we were in college. Without understanding the poem yet, I immediately sent it to him. We had a habit of sending lines from poems or lyrics either through SMS or e-mail. That was then. Back then.
Because Of Your Feet, Where Your Beauty Ends
(VIII: From El Rayo Que No Cesa)
Because of your feet, where your beauty ends
in ten fragments of whiteness, more a dance,
a dove ascends to your waist,
an unending balm falls to earth.
Along with your feet goes the wonder
of nacre, in a ridiculous narrowness,
and where your feet go whiteness goes,
a dog sowing anklets of jasmine.
At your feet, as much foam as shore,
sand and sea reach me, and ebb from me,
and I try to enter the sheepfold of your sole.
I enter and let myself pass to your soul itself,
with the loving voice of the grapes:
trample my heart, now it's ripe.
How he took the poem, I don't know. But he thanked me for sending it.
Trample my heart, now it's ripe...