81. the yellow vibrancy of life

how vain i should be to reread my own posts, but sometimes, late at night or early in the morning, i find myself scrolling through the past on the computer, mouthing the words or simply caressing them with my eyes. because within me there is something i have not yet understood. an undercurrent of a river lost in my old, unpracticed tongue.
rio de la plata maybe. or river of the sun.

even the sun has sunspots, darker on the background of virginal white; and so i have the blind spots: i always find them when i try. no light is enough to banish the spot of darkess on my sleeve: the drop of blood refusing to wash off in hot water. it would wash off in the cold, i know, but it’ll never get the chance.
chances are far and in between, don’t you know?

and i find myself every time, unexpected, like red peonies on a rose bush in may.
находжу себе кожен раз в шматку чорного хліба.

but what is there to find, other than the poems i had learnt by heart in years three and five. and seven. wordsworth’s daffodils.
the yellow vibrancy of life.


12 responses to “81. the yellow vibrancy of life

  1. a river lost in my old, unpracticed tounge

    beautiful. I heard his poem again the other day on a podcast.
    good poem, Glittering!

  2. What language was that?

  3. perfectly lovely… love how this one trails like the petals of those daffodils … :)

  4. this is really cool =] i’ve pretty much memorized all of my poems by heart on accident haha.

  5. It’s so true the poems we write are like little chapters in our lives (okay, or big ones). As always I enjoyed stopping by. . . xoxoxo

  6. Not vanity I think. Just going back over life and past writing improves style for the future.
    Thank you for subscribing to my blog. I will return again and read more of yours.
    Have been travelling the last week, am tired and have not written much. We should never rush our writing. Return often and reflect. Blessings.

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