Writer's Block: Taxmen and Poetry
Choosing a single favorite line is hard...but I think that "But the words, they're everything and nothing" (Recessional - Vienna Teng) is probably very high on the list. It reminds me, every time I hear it, that however absorbed I am with my schoolwork (woo, English student-ness), there are other things that are equally, if not more, important. I also just love the song, and all of its lyrics.
it's so beautiful here, she says, this moment now. and this moment, now.
and I never thought I would find her here: flannel and satin, my four walls transformed.
but she's looking at me, straight to center, no room at all for any other thought.
and I know I don't want this. oh I swear I don't want this.
there's a reason not to want this but I forgot.
in the terminal she sleeps on my shoulder, hair falling forward, mouth all askew.
fluorescent announcements beat their wings overhead: passengers missing, we're looking for you.
and she dreams through the noise, her weight against me, face pressed into the corduroy grooves.
maybe it means nothing but I'm afraid to move.
and the words: they're everything and nothing.
I want to search for her in the offhand remarks.
who are you, taking coffee, no sugar? who are you, echoing street signs?
who are you, the stranger in the shell of a lover, dark curtains drawn by the passage of time?
oh words like rain, how sweet the sound. well anyway, she says, I'll see you around...
it's so beautiful here, she says, this moment now. and this moment, now.
and I never thought I would find her here: flannel and satin, my four walls transformed.
but she's looking at me, straight to center, no room at all for any other thought.
and I know I don't want this. oh I swear I don't want this.
there's a reason not to want this but I forgot.
in the terminal she sleeps on my shoulder, hair falling forward, mouth all askew.
fluorescent announcements beat their wings overhead: passengers missing, we're looking for you.
and she dreams through the noise, her weight against me, face pressed into the corduroy grooves.
maybe it means nothing but I'm afraid to move.
and the words: they're everything and nothing.
I want to search for her in the offhand remarks.
who are you, taking coffee, no sugar? who are you, echoing street signs?
who are you, the stranger in the shell of a lover, dark curtains drawn by the passage of time?
oh words like rain, how sweet the sound. well anyway, she says, I'll see you around...