various and sundry items
I posted this poem on Tumblr a while back, when I was paging through my World Poetry book and typing up things that caught my eye, and then I ended up reading it aloud to the poetry group that sometimes meets at the coffeeshop once a month (they used to meet once a month in the summer in the park; Dad and I went and Dad was almost the youngest person there and me with black nails and striped stockings and blue hair was just obvious, but I read some of my few poems and they liked them), and it makes me want to laugh wryly and hold my head in my hands in despair at the same time, so I thought I'd share it with you, too.
My Stars
Abraham ibn Ezra (1029-1167); translated by Robert Mezey
On the day I was born,
The unalterable stars altered.
If I decided to sell lamps,
It wouldn’t get dark till the day I died.
Some stars. Whatever I do,
I’m a failure before I begin.
If I suddenly decided to sell shrouds,
People would suddenly stop dying.
I feel like this poem a lot, and love that a man who died hundreds of years before I was born could write in another language of the same sardonic despair that I understand.
--
I'm much less sick now, hooray! Unfortunately I have to stay within ten feet of a box of tissues at all time as naturally I would come down with a terrible cold. I shall be very cross if I can't sing tonight, though I think if I play it safe I'll have a decent voice. (Speaking of tonight, FRINGE IS BACK AKLSHFLKAH:H I remembered this suddenly while making lunch and kind of physically exploded all over the kitchen for thirty seconds. SHOWWWW. Not only that, but Being Human S3 starts on Sunday; what ridiculous glory is this.) I felt a great deal better just upon waking on Tuesday and forced myself outside to do errands as it was the warmest day we are likely to have for a very, very long time, and also because I desperately needed new headphones, and ta-da! the fresh air and not-being-in-the-house-ness revived me! I may have been listening to the Tangled soundtrack as I bicycled, which may have meant that everyone else on the road was treated to the sight of me beaming ridiculously to myself unceasingly all the way there. I won a round against DuBois' Only Goth Kids, finally snatching up eyeliner and nail polish, but the headphones were all too expensive, so I went to the mall instead, where I found inexpensive headphones and also The Greatest Gloves Ever Invented and a matching hat on ruthless clearance. The thumb and forefinger can be buttoned down, so that I may use my iPod in bitter cold. Also they are turquoise. It's brilliant.
It is snowing profusely and I have been having tea in the mornings and trying to sort things out, and that, I suppose, is how things are.
My Stars
Abraham ibn Ezra (1029-1167); translated by Robert Mezey
On the day I was born,
The unalterable stars altered.
If I decided to sell lamps,
It wouldn’t get dark till the day I died.
Some stars. Whatever I do,
I’m a failure before I begin.
If I suddenly decided to sell shrouds,
People would suddenly stop dying.
I feel like this poem a lot, and love that a man who died hundreds of years before I was born could write in another language of the same sardonic despair that I understand.
--
I'm much less sick now, hooray! Unfortunately I have to stay within ten feet of a box of tissues at all time as naturally I would come down with a terrible cold. I shall be very cross if I can't sing tonight, though I think if I play it safe I'll have a decent voice. (Speaking of tonight, FRINGE IS BACK AKLSHFLKAH:H I remembered this suddenly while making lunch and kind of physically exploded all over the kitchen for thirty seconds. SHOWWWW. Not only that, but Being Human S3 starts on Sunday; what ridiculous glory is this.) I felt a great deal better just upon waking on Tuesday and forced myself outside to do errands as it was the warmest day we are likely to have for a very, very long time, and also because I desperately needed new headphones, and ta-da! the fresh air and not-being-in-the-house-ness revived me! I may have been listening to the Tangled soundtrack as I bicycled, which may have meant that everyone else on the road was treated to the sight of me beaming ridiculously to myself unceasingly all the way there. I won a round against DuBois' Only Goth Kids, finally snatching up eyeliner and nail polish, but the headphones were all too expensive, so I went to the mall instead, where I found inexpensive headphones and also The Greatest Gloves Ever Invented and a matching hat on ruthless clearance. The thumb and forefinger can be buttoned down, so that I may use my iPod in bitter cold. Also they are turquoise. It's brilliant.
It is snowing profusely and I have been having tea in the mornings and trying to sort things out, and that, I suppose, is how things are.