uitasem de asta. si voi reveni pe subiectu asta. hopefully.
acuma dau cu paste la niste vorbe si la o ilustrati video de la un slam poetry venue a lu o doamna din Iowa care e simpatica foc. o cheama Mary Fons.
in care se arata urmatorul citat:
” the paper poem.
I wrote this world down on paper/and it is all that I have.
I’ve kept a record of the blows to the head/the words that you said/and the paper lights I have seen in the sky that fell to the earth and died/this is not solid ground/it trembles and shakes when you step down and if you’ve ever been to a paper world you know what I mean/when you walk around you fall/fall onto paper knees that buckle beneath the weight of your legs/paper necks snap beneath heavy paper heads/oh snap/paper clocks tell incorrect time/paper skyscrapers scrape the skyline/and all the city’s citizen’s want what paper needs/strength/strong stock/safety from water but it all comes pre-tattered/bleeding confetti sized ink that stains the paper streets.
and I wonder/how do you keep a smile on a cut-out face when at any moment/fire will ravage earth and space/reduce your planet to ash if you bump elbows with a cigarette or a smoking campfire log/get chewed on by a dog that thinks you’re the news/I have long since stopped getting the blues/there is no color here/on the absence of light/I mean that’s what white is/I mean that’s what white is/right.
but if you are a paper doll too then I shall know you on sight and if you are with me/then come with me tonight/I will match up our bodies by the tears in our arms/we will form paper barricades against matchstick harm/I will make paper love to you for as long as I can in this shreddable world/I will be your paper girl.
and if rage is worth nothing on paper/then I have nothing left to say/but if the greatest words of all our ancestors have been saved to this day on paper/on paper/clinging to paper for god knows the reasons why/then I will write this on paper/and send it up to the wrathful 2-D god in the sky:
make me a lover to burn with and I will be the one who burns it all/I will do your bidding with a smile/but before the cinder sparks and the Great Fall in the Fire starts/give me one day/one day/and I will make a paper boat and sail with him on the sea and after that/will gladly burn down the whole paper world/as long as he burns with me.”
„tennesee” mary fons
si acuma linku primit de la Pol la ora 01:00 am. ca recul la niste vorbe de le avuram telefonic intr-o seara empatic de ciudata si ciudat de empatica:
si in cuvinte:
„love poem 2002.
Tennessee Mary Fons
this poem is for the pillow clutchers/for those looking into the imaginary eyes of the person who fills their mind with sugarplum smiles/for those who have a cannon of dreams ready and waiting to blossom/for the men and the women who want to be understood in that way that only someone who kisses you can understand you/this poem is for you.
this poem is not for the desperate/the pathetic/the lame/the loser/not for the one who hasn’t gotten laid in awhile/not for the one who says they’re “choosing not to date” for awhile/there is no such thing/this poem is for the people who cannot bring themselves to admit that they would give their right leg for any length of time with the person on their mind.
forgive me/I am not a brave woman/I do not know what lurks in the hearts of humans and I don’t really want to know/if what’s there mirrors memories I show in my face on bad days it holds kisses that are long gone/people who have disappeared/and passions that have faded into the ether of the past/nothing lasts/that is the one lesson this coward can say she is able to teach.
this poem is for all those who wish to say “I’m sorry”/I’m sorry I couldn’t love you/you deserve love/I’m sorry I couldn’t give something to you/you deserve to be given to/I’m sorry that for every person that loves somebody/another person just doesn’t want to/and sometimes we’re the lucky ones/right/we get to feel sweet truth in the night/the bodies we reach out to are miraculously there/but I know the despair that comes when they are not/I know the long nights and the doubt and the fear and that crawling back to a womb that just isn’t there/I know intensity’s address and the letdown that rents there/I’m sorry for it/it takes years off your life and it cannot be avoided.
and some times these little words are crutches for the crush that we feel/so this poem is a pathetic vehicle for me to tell you/each one of you/that I love you/in so many ways/in the same ways that stay up nights and days/dreaming up the perfect way to be there for someone/meals you would cook for them/poems you would write for them and the things you plan to say when they say no/well I love you/and you will never know how in the slight of a magician’s hand we could’ve been lovers and grandly in love/could’ve changed the whole game/written words on the horizon/changed the compromise/but you will know something else instead/bitter as bitter ever gets/more bitter than a rotten peach pit/more bitter than a child’s most terrifying nightmare at night/you will know that I don’t reflect what I see in your eyes/will will share some banal recognition/some cordial understanding but have I mentioned that I love you for not lying/so many people lying all the time/I hate them/so I love you/and you will still go home alone/and that is very hard to do.
for all the humans with love for those who aren’t their lovers/I love you.
and so the poem ends because we know that it will/but before it slips away like everything else/I will attempt the only words I can think of that are a fraction as good as a kiss: when you reach out at night and find not someone/but the cold grey light of day that wakes you up like a slap/like a curse/like an insult/I love you/when you stay at home thinking of those who are long gone or those who are getting kisses from someone that is not you/I love you/for those who want what they probably need and whose bodies are starving not for food/for me and for you and for all the people who never knew or understood what you would do for them/I love you/I love you/I love you.
I think the poem gets to me personally because I have always wanted to say „I love you” to the world. I actually attempted to start a story once in which the main characters find little notes that say „You don’t know me, but I care about you. You don’t know me, but I’m like you. You don’t know me, but I know what you’re going through. You don’t know me, but I cried with you.” You see, awhile ago, a little over a year I’d say, I realised that even when you feel alone, there really are people in the world you care about you. There are people who can relate to you, there are people like you. No, I’m not referring to QA, though it has certainly helped me feel less alone. I don’t know, I was just really happy to see someone sending out the message that has been in the back of my mind for quite some time. It justs gets to me”