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<div style="background:#fff;border:#bbb dashed 1px;padding:5px"><a href="http://en.citatepedia.ro/comments.php?id=477047" style="color:#000;text-decoration:none"><div style="margin:10px 0"><strong>Writing Graffiti On The Blue Walls Of Heaven</strong></div><div style="margin:10px 0">Writing graffiti on the blue walls of heaven <br>to bring them back down to earth.<br>Seven come eleven in reverse<br>I'm rolling my skull like snake-eyes<br>against the odds of finding my afterbirth <br>buried on the dark side of the moon. <br>Cygnus transits zenith and I've <br>desanctified a small cross <br>I retrieved like a corpse from the river, <br>a mere splinter of a skeleton, poor thing, <br>to remind myself where I <br>begin and end like a crosswalk over<br>one Rubicon after another. <br>But great bridges <br>from little crosswalks grow<br>like rainbows at midnight <br>and you never know <br>when the wind's going to blow on your luck<br>like a butterfly cupped in your hands<br>and you're going to bump into <br>the Egyptian sky goddess Nut <br>doing Yoga on a medicine ball<br>and things are going to change.<br>Things are going to get real strange. <br>I'm going to knock all the stars <br>out of the night sky like crown jewels <br>so they can stand eyebrow to eyebrow <br>with the eye-sockets of my skull <br>and see what I see from the inside, <br>and rearrange them all into <br>renewable constellations of fireflies <br>that never wear the same myth twice.<br>Who hangs their dirty laundry out <br>on the clothes rack of the zodiac <br>to dry in the sun <br>like poppies poems and blood<br>for the neighbours to see <br>as plain as their bias <br>on the sheets of the night before? <br>I'm not going to kiss and tell. <br>I'm a gentleman from hell.<br>You can ask Nut. <br>You can ask Isis. <br>You can ask the Irish beauty <br>at the Bank of Montreal, <br>I approach love like a crisis <br>without a glossary of headlines.<br>I burn but I keep it underground <br>like a root-fire among the cedars<br>or a furnace full of stars<br>in the basement of a school <br>for prophetic janitors that want to learn <br>how to sweep their ashes <br>up off the floor after them <br>like martyrs to a good cause.<br>And I don't know what ails me <br>when I'm hexed most of the time, <br>angst, ennui, boredom <br>but there's a long distance look <br>in the third eye of my cellphone<br>and the crumbs of a leftover dream <br>in buttons of braille on the menu. <br>But on the dark side of the moon <br>there are no wishing wells <br>for the dark caprice of a cynic <br>to drink from on his own <br>like vinegar or hippocrene <br>from enlightened lunar skulls.<br>It's not wise to trust your misfortune <br>to any moon, new or full, <br>that's forgotten how to blush<br>when she remembers <br>she's not just a banshee<br>at a broken window<br>in an abandoned house <br>but a fertility goddess as well.</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=477047" data-title="Writing Graffiti On The Blue Walls Of Heaven de Patrick White" data-description="Writing graffiti on the blue walls of heaven 
to bring them back down to earth.
Seven come eleven in reverse
I'm rolling my skull like snake-eyes
against the odds of finding my afterbirth 
buried on the dark side of the moon. 
Cygnus transits zeni..."></div>
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