my forever inspirations:
www.annemcaulay.com/
www.filh.org/


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    The skies they were ashen and sober;  
       The leaves they were crisped and sere-  
       The leaves they were withering and sere;  
    It was night in the lonesome October  
       Of my most immemorial year;   
    It was hard by the dim lake of Auber,  
       In the misty mid region of Weir-  
    It was down by the dank tarn of Auber,  
       In the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir.  




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    Here once, through an alley Titanic,  
       Of cypress, I roamed with my Soul-  
       Of cypress, with Psyche, my Soul.  
    There were days when my heart was volcanic  
       As the scoriac rivers that roll-   
       As the lavas that restlessly roll  
    Their sulphurous currents down Yaanek  
       In the ultimate climes of the pole-  
    That groan as they roll down Mount Yaanek  
       In the realms of the boreal pole.  


  

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    Our talk had been serious and sober,  
       But our thoughts they were palsied and sere-  
       Our memories were treacherous and sere-  
    For we knew not the month was October,  
       And we marked not the night of the year-  
       (Ah, night of all nights in the year!)  
    We noted not the dim lake of Auber-  
       (Though once we had journeyed down here),  
    Remembered not the dank tarn of Auber,  
       Nor the ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir.  
    And makes me end where I begun.

    And now, as the night was senescent,   
       And star-dials pointed to morn-   
       As the star-dials hinted of morn-   
    At the end of our path a liquescent   
       And nebulous lustre was born,   
    Out of which a miraculous crescent   
       Arose with a duplicate horn-   
    Astarte's bediamonded crescent   
       Distinct with its duplicate horn.   




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    And I said- "She is warmer than Dian:   
       She rolls through an ether of sighs-   
       She revels in a region of sighs:   
    She has seen that the tears are not dry on   
       These cheeks, where the worm never dies,   
    And has come past the stars of the Lion,   
       To point us the path to the skies-   
       To the Lethean peace of the skies-   
    Come up, in despite of the Lion,   
       To shine on us with her bright eyes-   
    Come up through the lair of the Lion,   
       With love in her luminous eyes."   

    But Psyche, uplifting her finger,   
       Said- "Sadly this star I mistrust-   
       Her pallor I strangely mistrust:-   
    Oh, hasten!- oh, let us not linger!   
       Oh, fly!- let us fly!- for we must."   
    In terror she spoke, letting sink her   
       Wings until they trailed in the dust-   
    In agony sobbed, letting sink her   
       Plumes till they trailed in the dust-   
       Till they sorrowfully trailed in the dust.

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    I replied- "This is nothing but dreaming:   
       Let us on by this tremulous light!   
       Let us bathe in this crystalline light!   
    Its Sybilic splendor is beaming   
       With Hope and in Beauty to-night:-   
       See!- it flickers up the sky through the night!   
    Ah, we safely may trust to its gleaming,   
       And be sure it will lead us aright-   
    We safely may trust to a gleaming   
       That cannot but guide us aright,   
       Since it flickers up to Heaven through the night."

   Thus I pacified Psyche and kissed her,   
       And tempted her out of her gloom-   
       And conquered her scruples and gloom;   
    And we passed to the end of the vista,   
       But were stopped by the door of a tomb-   
       By the door of a legended tomb;   
    And I said- "What is written, sweet sister,   
       On the door of this legended tomb?"   
       She replied- "Ulalume- Ulalume-   
       'Tis the vault of thy lost Ulalume!"

    Then my heart it grew ashen and sober   
       As the leaves that were crisped and sere-   
       As the leaves that were withering and sere-   
    And I cried- "It was surely October   
       On this very night of last year   
       That I journeyed- I journeyed down here-   
       That I brought a dread burden down here-   
       On this night of all nights in the year,   
       Ah, what demon has tempted me here?   
    Well I know, now, this dim lake of Auber-   
       This misty mid region of Weir-   
    Well I know, now, this dank tarn of Auber,   
       This ghoul-haunted woodland of Weir."    

(E. A. Poe)

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LONE - ALONE BUT NOT LONELY


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From childhood's hour I have not been
As others were - I have not seen
As others saw - I could not bring
My passions from a common spring.
From the same source I have not taken
My sorrow; I could not awaken
My heart to joy at the same tone;
And all I lov'd, I lov'd alone.

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Then - in my childhood - in the dawn
Of a most stormy life - was drawn
From ev'ry depth of good and ill
The mystery which binds me still:
From the torrent, or the fountain,
From the red cliff of the mountain,
From the sun that 'round me roll'd
In its autumn tint of gold
From the lightning in the sky
As it pass'd me flying by -
From the thunder and the storm,
And the cloud that took the form
(When the rest of Heaven was blue)
Of a demon in my view.
(E. A. Poe)

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LONE - BODY EXPRESSIONS 2007


It rained a warm rain
I took her around

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The waist
She walks slowly after
Two big eyes against mine
A wet cheek against mine

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My lips sank into hers
The trees and the air and
All the Earth vanished

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And I looked into a new world
I never before had known
(E. Munch)

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Lying in my head watching my mistakes
I listen to the band
And the drums beat in my head
Pianos chime the sound in this prison of the house
And as the illness comes again can you hear me through the rain
As I listen to the band?
As I sing the silent song
Mime each lonely word
Please listen to the man he said that it could be the 2 of us



Alone but not lonely, you and me
(Suede)



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