My T.S. Eliot inspired poem. |
So let us go then, you and I, But without the evening. Instead with painted stars on a canvas Of dark black paint, thick and long strokes On a huge white canvas, our evening Existing in two dimensions, ceasing to appease the senses Beyond our brains comprehensions and yet smelling Like oil paints. So let us go then, To write words deleting apprehensions, Eliminate comprehensions and spread ourselves across the sky. Forgetting parties with men who don’t exist In some universe close by, expanding the possibilities by Limiting our capabilities and making wishes on weeds, Blowing cotton to the summer sky A sacrifice to false gods, praying for The evening, with lights that don’t exist. So let us go then, Slip through the cracks of the day and fall upon This canvas, fall into the evening and turn our hearts around. Dancing on the strokes of laughter, forgetting parties and smells And men dressed in suits, sparkling wine and turpentine, Dancing music and raucous laughter, Remembering, forgetting, remembering, forgetting, There shall be none of that here on this painting as We’re all really waiting for the dark of the evening tainting The sun. So let us go then, you and I, Without the evening by our sides, To remind us why we live and die. |