only the wicked are solitary

I crawled inside a mood to see what would happen(s) & i
wonder even now if what i
felt was jealousy or envy... i
'm still unsure
neither most likely fear most likely
lonely most of all but i
'm pathetic enough to want you
to notice me some scrap of tenderness i
want to impress you
and your gaze and attention
how do i
get across this space when shadows are the colour of bruises
& the dots feel more and more like tears
or thorns
my heart knows that i
deserve all that i
am feeling
Sad to say, my eyes are open*
revenge is a dish that is best served cold.

* with thanks to Jon, June, 08.


the walking man said...

I crawled inside a mood
not to see what would happen,
but to slay it,
to define it
it as irrelevant to
the the things of the day,
the sun,
the crows, t
he mood itself.

Slaying them,
moods that is,
is the best revenge I know.

Harlequin said...

well-- they ( moods) are relatively new companions for me, so I am still in the getting acquainted stages...

and I have to say, I also wanted to tease out some of the noodling that Beckett is doing with the movement across inside and's that space in between that is quite compelling for me....


Harlequin said...

....and, here's the other thing....
I was imagining if I were this unnameable thing to be expressed, sort of Kristeva's chora, and I found my way inside a mood and then took to unknowing explorations of it... how might that sound, how might that feel.... how would I crave to be ... want to be noticed... or not?? that was the impetus beneath/within this post...

slaying touches my Klingon sensibilities, however...