(no subject)
Ji and I have made a pact to post more poetry. You'll have to bear with me while I sulk about the fact that I should probably post something NOT by W.H. Auden or Dylan Thomas sometimes (though there'll be lots of them, because I adore them) and while I sneakily push Shakespeare in your face as often as possible. Because a monologue is totally a poem. Yeah.
LET'S BEGIN. This is the poem from which I stole the title (and the major theme) of my Ouran WIP about Kyouya, and I would like it EVEN IF it did not contain the word 'osmosis'.
~
More and More
More and more frequently the edges
of me dissolve and I become
a wish to assimilate the world, including
you, if possible through the skin
like a cool plant's tricks with oxygen
and live by a harmless green burning.
I would not consume
you or ever
finish, you would still be there
surrounding me, complete
as the air.
Unfortunately I don't have leaves.
Instead I have eyes
and teeth and other non-green
things which rule out osmosis.
So be careful, I mean it,
I give you fair warning:
This kind of hunger draws
everything into its own
space; nor can we
talk it all over, have a calm
rational discussion.
There is no reason for this, only
a starved dog's logic about bones.
- by Margaret Atwood
LET'S BEGIN. This is the poem from which I stole the title (and the major theme) of my Ouran WIP about Kyouya, and I would like it EVEN IF it did not contain the word 'osmosis'.
~
More and More
More and more frequently the edges
of me dissolve and I become
a wish to assimilate the world, including
you, if possible through the skin
like a cool plant's tricks with oxygen
and live by a harmless green burning.
I would not consume
you or ever
finish, you would still be there
surrounding me, complete
as the air.
Unfortunately I don't have leaves.
Instead I have eyes
and teeth and other non-green
things which rule out osmosis.
So be careful, I mean it,
I give you fair warning:
This kind of hunger draws
everything into its own
space; nor can we
talk it all over, have a calm
rational discussion.
There is no reason for this, only
a starved dog's logic about bones.
- by Margaret Atwood