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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=476655" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>I Should Lie In The Sun And Melt Into The Grass</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I should lie in the sun and melt into the grass. <br>I listen to the bikers throttling up like chain-saws. <br>I sit here urgently trying not to pollute time.<br>A poem's got one foot on shore and one in the boat.<br>Let Atlantis rise or sink as it will. I can wait. <br>Even when it's calm, my heart is an idling storm<br>and every third thought is a voodoo doll <br>as it sees itself on the inside <br>behind the eyelid of a visionary eclipse. <br>Nothing to worry about. I'm not going to put <br>the eyes of the telescope out for looking at Lady Godiva. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Look at me tracking myself all over this paper, <br>mouse and bird letters in the snow at the base of a juniper.<br>How human it is to forgo yourself for a future that doesn't exist. <br>God, I wish there were more fireflies in my life than street signs.<br>Do you see the lack of meaning in how things are understood? <br>Thought will get you as far as a frog on a lily pad <br>but once you get there it's easy to see it's the lily that shines<br>in a whole other realm of language<br>that everyone understands but no one can speak.<br>I watch the honeysuckle burn the gate I came through. <br>I note the blue eye shadow of the damselfly<br>applying herself like a cosmetic pencil to the heavy petals <br>of the wild roses tangled in the fallen birch. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">What a shock it would be if I were to take off my lifemask <br>and you were to discover me infinitely closer to you <br>like a dimension you hadn't detected in your awareness<br>than the light is to what you see when <br>you're sitting up in bed alone in the dark at three in the morning.<br>What a world, hey? What do you make of it? <br>The marvel and the horror and the mystery<br>and the way destiny manifestly unrolls like a lottery <br>for every living thing on a planet that occasionally plays <br>Russian roulette with the asteroids, and our tiny part in it all, <br>this mere speck of nothingness that can embody <br>in its formless spaces within, the superclustering of galaxies? <br>And the pain and the anger and the sorrow and the fear <br>and the way things change and disappear <br>as you look for the forms of your expectations everywhere <br>and everything's either an approximation or consolation <br>of what you can see so clearly, it burns the air? </div><div style="margin:10px 0">I should lie down in the sun and melt into the grass, <br>but forgotten among buildings here, I am unbound<br>and not even the dead are as free as I am right now.<br>The whole universe is one big solid insight<br>where inanimate things are just another mode of motion<br>sitting in the room like Latin, dogpaddling in space and time, <br>and I'm tucked under your eyelids like a loveletter <br>you weren't expecting in a language that could read you <br>like any one of the seventy-two scholars of the Septuagint.<br>I've been listening to you for lightyears like leaves <br>listen for the wind and the rain and the moonlight<br>and what you have felt about being alive <br>to say hello and sing farewell, has been my feeling, <br>and when you have wept at the intransigence of angels <br>and the generosity of their expansive interventions, <br>I have been humbled by the eyes of my own exaltations. <br>And my feet swept out from under me<br>like an undertow of shadows on the moon. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sister Lunacy, who can stand in the light <br>of these intensities and immensities for long<br>this vertigo of stars and skulls, bells and scars <br>without reeling in the delirium of simply being here <br>to witness them as if they somehow depended on us<br>to embody them in our hearts and minds and voids<br>as if they were no different from us than we were, <br>all waves of awareness the wind blows up on the ocean.<br>The imagination transforms everything in to us. <br>The stars reek of the eyes that have gazed up at them <br>like pyres and telescopes and censers, it's <br>in the hair of a comet like the smell of a lover, <br>it's what makes the meteorites as kissable <br>as the head of a snake to the lips of a gentle enemy. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sister Lunacy, my heartfelt muse, my dark-side dakini, <br>what have you been dancing for all these years? <br>Have you been pearldiving among the castanets<br>for a moonrise in the mouth of a seashell <br>that could sing to you like the ocean you're lost upon? <br>You're the station every seeker gets to <br>on a pilgrimage he doesn't know he's taking <br>where he damns the consequences and blessings alike <br>and enters into the spiritual life as a rebel of compassion<br>as he addresses himself to what's arrayed before him <br>as if there were only one voice between himself and another<br>like a bridge that flows, like a star <br>that doesn't drown in your eye like a firefly. <br>And if there were anything I could ever say I was <br>it would have to be this just as it is, this <br>endlessness I keep being poured out into <br>as if my heart were the only waterclock I could live by<br>and disembodied space the only medium <br>that could accommodate my shapeshifting adaptations <br>like goldfish coming to the surface to feed on the stars. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sister Lunacy, the moon reaches down to the roots of the river reeds <br>and the catfish thrive among the wild rice in the shallows, <br>and eyes in the darkness high overhead, as if <br>someone shattered a mirror into a billion bits of awareness<br>see you standing on your barren precipice <br>and long to know what it is you're thinking. <br>In order to understand you must become the thing itself. <br>You must abdicate your own presence to be <br>remotely at peace with the world, it's a strawdog anyway, <br>and it burns too fast to be much of a lighthouse. <br>And o my darkness, there are so many skins you have yet to shed<br>like the moon trying on a wardrobe of water <br>laying her gown across the lake like an early frost of sequins. <br>I shall come to you at first as a premonition<br>as lightly as a cloud touches the mountain, an aberrant insight, <br>a synchronistic intuition of our simultaneity, <br>and in your breath my breath shall be an atmosphere <br>and in your eye my eye shall lavish the most intimate of stars, <br>and in your blood my blood shall be the poppy and the rose. </div><div style="margin:10px 0">Sister Lunacy, even after the house has burnt to the ground <br>my passion stands like a blackened doorway in the rain <br>and though I look at you through a broken window, <br>the moon is whole, and the sky is not torn or bruised.</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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I listen to the bikers throttling up like chain-saws. 
I sit here urgently trying not to pollute time.
A poem's got one foot on shore and one in the boat.
Let Atlantis rise or sink as it will. I ca..."></div>
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