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Apr. 13th, 2007 12:04 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
cblj_backupHey, it's Friday the thirteenth! And yesterday was my LJversary, though not really, because I started journaling in March, and moved it all over after I got my LJ on the 12th of April, 2003, which is the "date created" in my profile.
And uh, looking at my comments posted versus comments received...I gotta post more comments.
Commentary post-hack: As of this writing (November 2008), after the hack, I have 51,000 posted to 6,000 received. I look really awesome right now.
Anyhow, in honour of the day I have one more poem from Ellis, who seems to be prolific in the month of April. *grins* April is the cruelest month, and I've noticed that there's a certain balance of misery which, when reached, is the perfect fertile soil for writing. Too unhappy and the writing stops; too happy and there's no need for that escape.
I never said I was mentally stable. I tell people my poems were written by my imaginary friend.
LITTLE KNOWN FACTS
by Ellis Graveworthy
If those whose words come down to us
As canon or as measured verse
Are quiet as the common man
Regarding private thoughts, and words
Unspoken over what they've done --
The good deeds harnessed to the bad --
Our view of them's a funny one.
The public face is all we've had
For those who took up fragile tools
And softly tapped the infinite;
Of what they felt about it all
Betraying not a twitch or tic.
If poets laughed dishonestly
As people laugh and jest in crowds,
If writers wept for private loss
And never spoke a word aloud --
In short if they felt as we feel
(And who denies their human lives?)
Then we can never really know
Except for fictions left behind
What makes a mind as bright as brass
And our life seem as clear as glass.
And uh, looking at my comments posted versus comments received...I gotta post more comments.
Commentary post-hack: As of this writing (November 2008), after the hack, I have 51,000 posted to 6,000 received. I look really awesome right now.
Anyhow, in honour of the day I have one more poem from Ellis, who seems to be prolific in the month of April. *grins* April is the cruelest month, and I've noticed that there's a certain balance of misery which, when reached, is the perfect fertile soil for writing. Too unhappy and the writing stops; too happy and there's no need for that escape.
I never said I was mentally stable. I tell people my poems were written by my imaginary friend.
LITTLE KNOWN FACTS
by Ellis Graveworthy
If those whose words come down to us
As canon or as measured verse
Are quiet as the common man
Regarding private thoughts, and words
Unspoken over what they've done --
The good deeds harnessed to the bad --
Our view of them's a funny one.
The public face is all we've had
For those who took up fragile tools
And softly tapped the infinite;
Of what they felt about it all
Betraying not a twitch or tic.
If poets laughed dishonestly
As people laugh and jest in crowds,
If writers wept for private loss
And never spoke a word aloud --
In short if they felt as we feel
(And who denies their human lives?)
Then we can never really know
Except for fictions left behind
What makes a mind as bright as brass
And our life seem as clear as glass.
