Romancing The Stone, I guess...

I'm not sure what I want or even what I'm supposed to write here, on days like this. Last year was a video clip of Jawbreaker but this year leaves me wanting. The desire to reflect upon passions spent or passions yet to be spent just doesn't seem to move me. I seem to be in one of those moods.
Let's give Tadeusz Rozewicz, "...a poet of chaos with a nostalgia for order" (Czeslaw Milosz), something to say, to plant his mark:

Draft of a Modern Love Poem

And yet white
is best described by gray
bird by stone
sunflowers
in December

love poems of old
were descriptions of the flesh
described this and that
for instance eyelashes

and yet red
should be described
by gray the sun by rain
poppies in November
lips by night

the most tangible
description of bread
is a description of hunger
in it is
the damp porous core
the warm interior
sunflowers at night
the breasts belly thighs of Cybele

a spring-clear
transparent description
of water
is a description of thirst
ashes
desert
it produces a mirage
clouds and trees move into
the mirror

Lack hunger
absence
of flesh
is a description of love
is a mondern love poem


But maybe a poem is not your thing. I mean, really, are we sixteen years old living in the 1920s? I think not! What are mere words when we have songs! Songs! Let's lower the lights, ligt a candle and open a bottle of wine. Look deeply into the eyes of the one you love...



I'm bored. Have a happy valentine's day...