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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=476623" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>I Could Bring You A Shattered Windowpane</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I could bring you a shattered windowpane, <br>I could bring you a musical whip that's been trained <br>to read the stops of your flute <br>and how your fingers move like windproof spiders. <br>I could bring you the red brick of dried blood <br>that was left of my heart when I threw it through the window, <br>and it broke into a thousand chips of rose petals <br>that shed like flakes of dried paint off the eyelids <br>of a revolution that hasn't woken up yet <br>to finish what it started in a recurring dream<br>of mystic junkies flagging their fits <br>until Faustus sees Christ's blood <br>streaming across the firmament like mother's milk. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Should I ever come to know you well enough <br>to let you drink from my hidden starwell in my field of view, <br>I could raise your spirits up like a candelabra <br>to be whatever constellation you wanted <br>among all these myriad stars dying to be given a focus. <br>And if at first you didn't know where you were, I'd be your locus<br>until you got your sea legs on the moon, <br>and learned to walk on fire without getting burned. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">You could be the punk mermaid who beguiled <br>the seasoned sailor of my oceanic awareness <br>you were still flinging your nets far and wide over<br>like spatial tides of ionized wavelengths<br>keeping time with the stars in a Babel of voices <br>that stratified the lyrics of the seven visible celestial spheres <br>that could be seen with the naked eye <br>like the black grammar of the multiverse <br>trying to keep the light in some kind of context.</div><div style="margin:10px 0">And if I drowned to compliment your singing. <br>You could write a biography of bubbles <br>about my life and times in the depths with you <br>and I'd be happy to sign it in the cursive spring <br>of the year's first seance to prove <br>every word I've said to you is a cult of the true, <br>even before I began to write secret loveletters to you <br>in the nebulae and clouds of unknowing in the stars <br>that precipitated out of my breath on a glacial windowpane<br>of an ice age that couldn't thaw fast enough <br>for me to open my eyes and see you shining <br>in ten thousand lakes all at the same time<br>like the orbits of a prophetic skull at vernal equinox.</div><div style="margin:10px 0"><br /></a><br />poem by <a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/by.php?a=Patrick+White">Patrick White</a><div class=q>
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<script type="text/javascript" src="//s7.addthis.com/js/300/addthis_widget.js#pubid=citatepedia" async="async"></script><div style="display:inline-block" class="addthis_sharing_toolbox" data-url="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=476623" data-title="I Could Bring You A Shattered Windowpane de Patrick White" data-description="I could bring you a shattered windowpane, 
I could bring you a musical whip that's been trained 
to read the stops of your flute 
and how your fingers move like windproof spiders. 
I could bring you the red brick of dried blood 
that was left of m..."></div>
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