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acidlikegirl's Journal
Created on 2001-10-15 20:35:14 (#370269), last updated 2004-05-20
207 comments received, 104 comments posted
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240 Journal Entries, 0 Tags, 0 Memories, 0 Virtual Gifts, 2 Userpics
| Name: | EvilOtaku |
|---|
Ah fuck I hate this crap...(I have a diplorable mouth,can ya tell.) All you need to know is Im not as crude as I seem. So there,mail me if you dont know me and if you do just smack me upside the head and say "Call me!" Because you know I never get around to that. Heres one of my favorite poems...well ok two...
Edna St. Vincent Millay,A Sonnet::
I will put Chaos into fourteen lines
And keep him there;and let him thence escape
If he be lucky;let him twist,and ape
Flood,fire,and demon-his adroit designs
Will strain to nothing in the strict confines
Of this sweet Order mingles and combines.
Past are the hours,the years,of our duress,
His arrogance,our awful servitude:
I have him. He is nothing more nor less
Then something simple not yet understood;
I shall not even force him to confess;
Or answer. I will only make him good.
Sara Bard Field:
"The Pale Woman"
Woman, why so pale and thin?
A swan and a raven strive within.
From battling of beak am I wan and worn:
From grappling of white with black wing torn.
Woman, I hear no clash of wing.
In awful silence is done this thing.
They lie on my breast when wear of fight--
Swan on the left; raven on the right.
The left breast burns like a fiery cross;
The right breast blights like frozen moss.
If the white, the black heart slay,
I shall be a nest for day.
But if the swan should vanquished be;
The raven with night will feather me.
Daily I rise and lay me down,
I comb my hair and smooth my gown,
And, basket on arm, go into town.
The neighbors see nothing strange or new-
A woman marketing, as they do:
Butter and eggs and a fish or two...
For who would dream my narrow clay
Could hold the whole of night and day?
Or that the birds of boundless space
Would strive in such a little place?
Edna St. Vincent Millay,A Sonnet::
I will put Chaos into fourteen lines
And keep him there;and let him thence escape
If he be lucky;let him twist,and ape
Flood,fire,and demon-his adroit designs
Will strain to nothing in the strict confines
Of this sweet Order mingles and combines.
Past are the hours,the years,of our duress,
His arrogance,our awful servitude:
I have him. He is nothing more nor less
Then something simple not yet understood;
I shall not even force him to confess;
Or answer. I will only make him good.
Sara Bard Field:
"The Pale Woman"
Woman, why so pale and thin?
A swan and a raven strive within.
From battling of beak am I wan and worn:
From grappling of white with black wing torn.
Woman, I hear no clash of wing.
In awful silence is done this thing.
They lie on my breast when wear of fight--
Swan on the left; raven on the right.
The left breast burns like a fiery cross;
The right breast blights like frozen moss.
If the white, the black heart slay,
I shall be a nest for day.
But if the swan should vanquished be;
The raven with night will feather me.
Daily I rise and lay me down,
I comb my hair and smooth my gown,
And, basket on arm, go into town.
The neighbors see nothing strange or new-
A woman marketing, as they do:
Butter and eggs and a fish or two...
For who would dream my narrow clay
Could hold the whole of night and day?
Or that the birds of boundless space
Would strive in such a little place?
Interests (36):
anggun, anne sexton, auden, beer, boroughs, catcher in the rye, charles de lint, death, edna st. vincent millay, evil, ferlinghetti, flannery o'connor, flogging molly, glay, hide, joel pete witkin, joy drop, mary wollstonecraft, mindless self indulgence, morrigna, most punk music, my brain, my hands, my heart, my oil paints, photography, pictures of dead things, portisehead, sublime, sugar cult, the beats, the ramones, tricky, trouble, weed, wolf.
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