Friday, August 05, 2005


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(photography[pen, paper and poetry], photoshop cs)

.Baudelaire.Verlaine.Garcia Lorca.Antonio Machado.Leon Felipe.Roberto Fernandez Retamar.Jorges Luis Borges.Pablo Neruda.Rabindranath Tagore.Czeslaw Milosz.Andre Breton.George Elliot.

the names... poetries from whom i have not read in a long time... i have lost the passion... i have lost the grasp to picture and understand the subtle meanings behind the words... and i have not found someone whom i could easily and willingly share the beauty of alphabets and intonations that forms such emotive letters and paragraphs... and i have not seen someone who could equal her passion with poetry... thus i rather be without, than be with... to be so in pain and alone with it...

i miss how you trace the words with your fingers... how you read them with passion softly, words mingling in a whisper on your breath... how we read them to one another, in hushed tones, while in each other embrace... how our voices, our words overlap and repeat each other... beautiful echolalia...

and we shared a common love for neruda... you penned me our favorite sonnet xvii on a piece of notepad, straight from your memory and slipped it between the clothes you left behind... and that is all that i have left of you...

Love does not claim possession,
but gives freedom.

-Rabindranath Tagore-

I cannot be waiting forever Ling... and like what you've done to me, thus i shall set you free... if you do return, then we shall see...

Track Of The Day: James Blunt - Beautiful


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2:30 AM  

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