Jabberwocky

Remeber this?...

Jabberwocky

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.

"Beware the Jabberwock, my son!
The jaws that bite, the claws that catch!
Beware the Jubjub bird, and shun
The frumious Bandersnatch!"

He took his vorpal sword in hand:
Long time the manxome foe he sought--
So rested he by the Tumtum tree,
And stood awhile in thought.

And as in uffish thought he stood,
The Jabberwock, with eyes of flame,
Came whiffling through the tulgey wood,
And burbled as it came!

One, two! One, two! and through and through
The vorpal blade went snicker-snack!
He left it dead, and with its head
He went galumphing back.

"And hast thou slain the Jabberwock?
Come to my arms, my beamish boy!
O frabjous day! Callooh! Callay!"
He chortled in his joy.

'Twas brillig, and the slithy toves
Did gyre and gimble in the wabe;
All mimsy were the borogoves,
And the mome raths outgrabe.
“”
from Through the Looking-Glass, and What Alice Found There (1872).

The thing that stayes

My blanket smells of your sweat
last night when you slept here
in the comfort of my arms.
The strong stinking scent
makes me strangely attracted,

Attached is an understatement,
I know it like the devil in me,
flashes of recollections- turning,
pulling me back to addiction.
It's like a storm in my brain,
or climbing a mountain.

Soft feeling of permanence,
gentle as a feather and brittle,
without logic but touch is enough
to keep the strong that makes me weak
And revive the synapse that started.

The sweet scent of your sweat
leaves a piercing memory through me,
too many,
was here but now away,
close today, tomorrow lost, but wanted,
un-conditional, never forgotten.

I carry your heart with me- E.E. Cummings

I carry your heart with me(I carry it in
my heart)I am never without it(anywhere
I go you go,my dear; and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
I fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)I want
no world(for beautiful you are my world, my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life; which grows
higher than the soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart

I carry your heart (I carry it in my heart)

Child- Sylvia Plath

Your clear eye is the one absolutely beautiful thing.
I want to fill it with color and ducks,
The zoo of the new

Whose name you meditate --
April snowdrop, Indian pipe,
Little

Stalk without wrinkle,
Pool in which images
Should be grand and classical

Not this troublous
Wringing of hands, this dark
Ceiling without a star.

Verbally

There is a strange concoction
Of words and feelings.
It was about time.
Merely,

They slither through the slots sneakily,
As I can't grasp the structure of expression.
A moment, a movement leads to suppressed sound.
Calm,

Precursor of the shattering,
Before a helpless cry for understanding.
I see no sound, when I hear no scenery.

In. Enlarge, and lost in thought.
In the evening, muffled sound and a bubble.
Humming almost at the height,
Exhale.

Silly sense in the aftermath,
Second from the reasoning
And the sweet smell of sugar in the air.
Nonsense.

Wondrous Water

Wondrous Water

Trickle drops and continues.
No. Unknowing and indefinite.
The mystery of life is why we live it.

That one clear shine,
That makes you wonder of the structure,
It's why we question, it's our nurture.

Why try to survive
Without a meaning?
Simple is the way to everything.

In a cell it thrives.
With a discipline, emancipated.
Energy can never be created.

A.