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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=476666" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>I Woke Up Saying Your Name</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">I woke up saying your name <br>but in the course of the day forgot. <br>I should have forgiven you sooner<br>but my tongue was a noose and a knot.<br>I should have let you fool my eyes<br>but not my heart. No Grecian urn<br>but just the same <br>I loved the shapely vase of your body<br>and the fact that my ashes weren’t buried in it. <br>But those bouquets of angry snakes <br>you kept trying to arrange <br>into a Zen garden in Kyoto<br>or a hair do in Mycenean Greece<br>kept me looking for an antidote for years<br>to all those estranged wavelengths<br>of a gamma ray burst <br>I stood like a nuclear meltdown in the way of, <br>though I poured my blood out like heavy water<br>to get you to stop and cool down. <br>What it is is what it is only<br>if you don’t factor in what it’s not.<br>Otherwise, in the bigger picture, <br>what it is is just as much what it’s not.<br>And who can assess <br>what didn’t go down between us? <br>I’m sitting on a cold rock down by the Tay River<br>freezing my proverbials off<br>because I like being alone with the stars <br>at three in the morning<br>because they don’t ask for an explanation <br>about why I’m up so late <br>so many light years from home.<br>And they don’t ask me to translate my scars, <br>the dead word into the living, <br>back into wounds <br>they couldn’t relate to anyway. <br>And I don’t need to tell them <br>if you’re going to open yourself up to someone, <br>if you’re going to bloom, if <br>you’re going to shine<br>a rose, a star, <br>you’re bound to taste your own thorns <br>or the splinters of broken chandeliers <br>on your tongue, or a dog <br>with porcupine quills in its mouth, <br>howling at the dark side of the moon <br>as the greater of two faith healers.<br>Though neither the stars nor I<br>are into comparative mortality.<br>And as I approach death and love aimlessly<br>looking at the stars timelessly alone<br>I don’t bemoan my brevity anymore <br>and they don’t flash their eternity in my face.<br>There’s just stars and eyes for awhile<br>and both of us agree <br>death and eternity are none of our business.<br>There’s just this little bit of heat and light<br>that flares like a matchbook for a minute<br>and then goes out <br>like a holybook, a firefly, <br>a poem or a flower <br>burning in its own ashes, smothered <br>in its own smoke like a pillow<br>over a dream in a skull<br>that effaced itself like stars <br>packed into a snowman that thaws<br>according to cosmic laws <br>not meant for our eyes only.<br>And God, the Zeitgeist, <br>the Universal Id knows, <br>how we’ve both tried<br>to enlighten these lumps of coal, <br>these sorry excuses for eyes <br>into diamonds that flow <br>with love and compassion.<br>How we have laboured like Sisyphus <br>to haul what’s deep underground, <br>the dark ore within us, <br>up into mountains of light <br>only to watch it run down again<br>rivers and rain<br>into the great night seas beyond<br>like a heart-mind continuum. <br>A leaf and a starmap on a lifestream.<br>We have advanced into our retrogression<br>like everything else in the universe, <br>big heavy methane planets <br>with shepherd moons<br>that cast their shadows <br>like beauty spots on Saturn, <br>and our axes toppled like Neptune’s.</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=476666" data-title="I Woke Up Saying Your Name de Patrick White" data-description="I woke up saying your name 
but in the course of the day forgot. 
I should have forgiven you sooner
but my tongue was a noose and a knot.
I should have let you fool my eyes
but not my heart. No Grecian urn
but just the same 
I loved the shapely va..."></div>
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