A Visual Encapsulation

I just finished this book:



By this (delicious) man:




and it made me:






and




and made me think about





and





and





and with all my heart I could not recommend it enough.

A Re-Examination Of A Literary Form And All The Delights Said Re-Examination Brought Forth

As my blog perhaps attests, I'm rather fond of a spot of poetry here or there. A form of poetry that has been vastly neglected by me is the haiku. I suppose it's because it seems a bit like the cheaters poetry- anything can sounds profound in 17 syllables or less. Thus, I spent less time appreciating haiku's than I did traffic jams, or salad.
I have been sadly misinformed.
My recent discovery of Godzilla Haiku has been one of great joy. The pathos, the existentialism, the desolate eloquence- I can't get enough. I proudly present my 'Best of Godzilla Haiku'

Lovesong- Ted Hughes

He loved her and she loved him
His kisses sucked out her whole past and future or tried to
He had no other appetite
She bit him she gnawed him she sucked
She wanted him complete inside her
Safe and sure forever and ever
Their little cries fluttered into the curtains

Her eyes wanted nothing to get away
Her looks nailed down his hands his wrists his elbows
He gripped her hard so that life
Should not drag her from that moment
He wanted all future to cease
He wanted to topple with his arms round her
Off that moment's brink and into nothing
Or everlasting or whatever there was

Her embrace was an immense press
To print him into her bones
His smiles were the garrets of a fairy palace
Where the real world would never come
Her smiles were spider bites
So he would lie still till she felt hungry
His words were occupying armies
Her laughs were an assassin's attempts
His looks were bullets daggers of revenge
His glances were ghosts in the corner with horrible secrets
His whispers were whips and jackboots
Her kisses were lawyers steadily writing
His caresses were the last hooks of a castaway
Her love-tricks were the grinding of locks
And their deep cries crawled over the floors
Like an animal dragging a great trap
His promises were the surgeon's gag
Her promises took the top off his skull
She would get a brooch made of it
His vows pulled out all her sinews
He showed her how to make a love-knot
Her vows put his eyes in formalin
At the back of her secret drawer
Their screams stuck in the wall

Their heads fell apart into sleep like the two halves
Of a lopped melon, but love is hard to stop

In their entwined sleep they exchanged arms and legs
In their dreams their brains took each other hostage

In the morning they wore each other's face

With Apologies Galore

It is sheepishly I write these words. After vowing that this blog wouldn't join the myriad of other petered-out blogs peppered about the intehnetz, I immediately forsook it to attend to the rather more pressing concern of University. However, university has paused for breath (or, less metaphorically, Easter) and thus here I am, armed with Earl Grey (my cups of earl grey are the classiest moments in my days), typing away.
I'll be honest, I do know that no-one reads this. There, I said it! But to me, it doesn't matter, because I know how much I love reading back over things I read when I was young. I was incredibly self absorbed. The more things change... anyway.
So here I am, back again. I have another poem and other things to post once I'm done here.
Why do I post poems? I love poetry endlessly. I annoy all and sundry by sitting them down and forcing them to listen to lines I've privately wept over. This particularly does not go down well with my boyfriend, who is more into maths jokes (he's a MASSIVE nerd) than the subtle nuances of delicate phrasing. Nonetheless, he and all are stuck with me and that involves listening to poems. And that includes YOU, blog! So suck it up.
Reading over the last three words, it appears this apology has not at all gone according to plan. How awkward. Moving on.