recidivi5t

The force that through the green fuse drives the flower
Drives my green age; that blasts the roots of trees
Is my destroyer.
And I am dumb to tell the crooked rose
My youth is bent by the same wintry fever.

The force that drives the water through the rocks
Drives my red blood; that dries the mouthing streams
Turns mine to wax.
And I am dumb to mouth unto my veins
How at the mountain spring the same mouth sucks.

The hand that whirls the water in the pool
Stirs the quicksand; that ropes the blowing wind
Hauls my shroud sail.
And I am dumb to tell the hanging man
How of my clay is made the hangman's lime.

The lips of time leech to the fountain head;
Love drips and gathers, but the fallen blood
Shall calm her sores.
And I am dumb to tell a weather's wind
How time has ticked a heaven round the stars.

And I am dumb to tell the lover's tomb
How at my sheet goes the same crooked worm.


God i love that poem.

Hey. Did a secret santa thing at work. My secret santa gave me a really nicely framed big photo of MYSELF. Apparently she snapped it of me after work when we were hanging out a while back. She did everything herself - developed the negative, did the print, matted it and put it in a really nice frame. It's a beautiful photo - she's really really talented. Do you think it's a little vain to have it hanging in my place, tho?