Today, among all other days which come to mind in my preconscious, is particularly lucky. The sun isn't shining. The clouds cover the sky. It's raining at present, yet I feel a a spring of mirth within my me. I can't quite place its origin or from whom it stems as it's due to a myriad of events I reckon. This morning at 3am an oasis in my desert of poetic writings sprung forth, and I completed the following poem called "Late Night".
Late Night
Flesh is beauty when it burns;
Fire makes the boring hot.
In coffins where no stomach churns,
It melts like glue into a pot.
There stands a woman dressed in red,
Her vice can not be seen with eyes.
To maim all men with whom she bends;
They feel the burning in their thighs.
Fingers thrice dipped in water looks the same.
A hand in air shows not a sign of bane,
But in it swims a vile and noxious strain
To enter incognito with cruel chains.
Oh that the joys in one night's bed could quell,
Instead of living on in life's long spell.
(If you liked this piece, check out my other works on www.poetry.com)
Since I racked my brain composing this poetic piece, I didn't sleep until about 4am. I thought my Monday would be filled with angst and sleep deprivation. Boy was I wrong. The good vibes kept flowing, and my Spanish class was even canceled. Things couldn't get better.
I was in the process of relating my marvelous day to my friends Sarah and Liz; my mother called and told me that my cat died. I'm not too shaken about it, but my spring of mirth certainly diminished substantially. Silver, my cat, supposedly had arthritis, and was given medication to treat it. This morning, apparently, his bladder was noticeably protruding from his ventral side, so my mom took him to the vet. He had a heart attack. Case closed.
Today is certainly a day of vicissitudes. My high on life came to abrupt halt right when I reached the apex of the commensurate elation of the day's goodness. It's interesting to note how life changes so starkly. I just read a friend's blog, and she spoke about the same thing. When tragedy strikes in your individual life, your solipsistic view of reality shatters and stops instantly, but the world keeps on whirling around it's celestial course. Moments like these cause me to muse on the fact that life's highs can only be TRULY appreciated when you experience a low point.
Fire makes the boring hot.
In coffins where no stomach churns,
It melts like glue into a pot.
There stands a woman dressed in red,
Her vice can not be seen with eyes.
To maim all men with whom she bends;
They feel the burning in their thighs.
Fingers thrice dipped in water looks the same.
A hand in air shows not a sign of bane,
But in it swims a vile and noxious strain
To enter incognito with cruel chains.
Oh that the joys in one night's bed could quell,
Instead of living on in life's long spell.
(If you liked this piece, check out my other works on www.poetry.com)
Since I racked my brain composing this poetic piece, I didn't sleep until about 4am. I thought my Monday would be filled with angst and sleep deprivation. Boy was I wrong. The good vibes kept flowing, and my Spanish class was even canceled. Things couldn't get better.
I was in the process of relating my marvelous day to my friends Sarah and Liz; my mother called and told me that my cat died. I'm not too shaken about it, but my spring of mirth certainly diminished substantially. Silver, my cat, supposedly had arthritis, and was given medication to treat it. This morning, apparently, his bladder was noticeably protruding from his ventral side, so my mom took him to the vet. He had a heart attack. Case closed.
Today is certainly a day of vicissitudes. My high on life came to abrupt halt right when I reached the apex of the commensurate elation of the day's goodness. It's interesting to note how life changes so starkly. I just read a friend's blog, and she spoke about the same thing. When tragedy strikes in your individual life, your solipsistic view of reality shatters and stops instantly, but the world keeps on whirling around it's celestial course. Moments like these cause me to muse on the fact that life's highs can only be TRULY appreciated when you experience a low point.
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