A couple weeks ago I finally saw the movie Candy. A harrowing tale about two heroin addicts. The movie was...sad to say the least and I didn't get into it as deep as I thought I would just so that I could stay sane. But in the preview (which I watched several times before seeing the movie, sort of like looking over the cover art of a book to see if that book 'looks' good, I love aesthetic appeal...yadda yad) it has Heath Ledger speaking one of the most beautiful pieces of prose I may have ever heard other than All The Difference (Nature Camp thing), by e.e. cummings. Here it is, enjoy
http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZrudC0STJ0U
the lines are from
i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
-usually I'm not much for sappy love poems, but this is different in a way I can't explain like,
the roses growing on the brick walls of my house
or the pine trees that lay past the creek where the bobcat tracks are
timeless in a sense that it could all rush away happily without you.
the complete poem
i carry your heart with me(i carry it in
my heart)i am never without it(anywhere
i go you go,my dear;and whatever is done
by only me is your doing,my darling)
i fear
no fate(for you are my fate,my sweet)i want
no world(for beautiful you are my world,my true)
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you
here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;which grows
higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keeping the stars apart
i carry your heart(i carry it in my heart)
e.e. cummings
watch the movie if you dare try to understand the power that drugs hold over people, but nature is a much more serious drug. It's what we are all born into. It can be sweet and sour and gorgeous breathtaking and life shattering.
Maybe that's why I love it so much. Eternally. I don't mind talking about it this way, where I live I can always touch it. Maybe not the mountains, which are so very enticing, but I've got the hills.
"When I first saw Candy, birds flew in the sky"
sweet paper rainshowers
Saturday, January 9, 2010
Sunset Kin
I worship the kids that are alright
with eyes like light-brights
cutting holes into your walls at first dawn
like stars cut through the dark with their brawn
muscled bright with rays of pumped iron
lifting the sleepless from their bed like a house fire
running down the streets with boots on
throwing rocks at you from your front lawn
the rocks land on the floor of your bedroom
wide eyed you stare stiff as the shadows loom
but you worship the kids that are alright
showing up like restless candlelight
flicking through the town like old magazines
dialing up the pace of a running frenzy
escapades through tunnels of a living train
running fire through it as it starts to rain
never shaving or bathing or caring at all
just lighting a match through your brain as they call
the spark starts to burn down the leg to your feet
and you catch them moving down the sun warmed streets
you can't catch them, you know, their so damned fast
with their pants legs sawed off and calves of burnished brass
they race towards the fields where the grass is long
and gracefully weave with a flag and a song
a path towards the trees where the fires lick
at the boughs of trees made of needles and sticks
these kids that I worship make signs in the air
and breathe smoke out their nostrils in a sinking trail
their bodies are fierce and made of smooth stone
and the voices boom freely through our shaking bones
my legs are aching and my body is cold
the faces in the firelight look shadowed and old
drawn out in grisly expressions of love and hate
this scene would be diminished if I tried to recreate
the way they stared into the evening dim
over the smoke in their eyes making a transparent film
and did squint and suck in their mouths with distaste
at foreigners like us from a civilized place
then one stepped forward with a mellow aura
walking around the fire we could see she was wrapped in flora
flowers flowed out of her dirty locks
and her garments were an assortment of leaves and rocks
she breathed into our ear the life that we could now have
behind our eyes her words did calve
an iceburg from the glacier of our civilized world
a future life, unhasseled, unworried dripped into our souls
pumping in the heat, the vision she made worked like a fire bellow
at the spark from the match that had originally caught our brains
and made them run after these wild spirits through the pain
these alright kids are my kin now
worshipping them would be close to sin now
we are all gods upon the rocky ground
and through the yards and fields we do bound
now I throw the rocks that land upon your floor
and with heavy feet you roll out the door
to follow us down the darkened streets
to dance with flushed faces around the fire to pounding beats
and join a world you had no part of
until we wrenched your bitter soul from a civilized world.
with eyes like light-brights
cutting holes into your walls at first dawn
like stars cut through the dark with their brawn
muscled bright with rays of pumped iron
lifting the sleepless from their bed like a house fire
running down the streets with boots on
throwing rocks at you from your front lawn
the rocks land on the floor of your bedroom
wide eyed you stare stiff as the shadows loom
but you worship the kids that are alright
showing up like restless candlelight
flicking through the town like old magazines
dialing up the pace of a running frenzy
escapades through tunnels of a living train
running fire through it as it starts to rain
never shaving or bathing or caring at all
just lighting a match through your brain as they call
the spark starts to burn down the leg to your feet
and you catch them moving down the sun warmed streets
you can't catch them, you know, their so damned fast
with their pants legs sawed off and calves of burnished brass
they race towards the fields where the grass is long
and gracefully weave with a flag and a song
a path towards the trees where the fires lick
at the boughs of trees made of needles and sticks
these kids that I worship make signs in the air
and breathe smoke out their nostrils in a sinking trail
their bodies are fierce and made of smooth stone
and the voices boom freely through our shaking bones
my legs are aching and my body is cold
the faces in the firelight look shadowed and old
drawn out in grisly expressions of love and hate
this scene would be diminished if I tried to recreate
the way they stared into the evening dim
over the smoke in their eyes making a transparent film
and did squint and suck in their mouths with distaste
at foreigners like us from a civilized place
then one stepped forward with a mellow aura
walking around the fire we could see she was wrapped in flora
flowers flowed out of her dirty locks
and her garments were an assortment of leaves and rocks
she breathed into our ear the life that we could now have
behind our eyes her words did calve
an iceburg from the glacier of our civilized world
a future life, unhasseled, unworried dripped into our souls
pumping in the heat, the vision she made worked like a fire bellow
at the spark from the match that had originally caught our brains
and made them run after these wild spirits through the pain
these alright kids are my kin now
worshipping them would be close to sin now
we are all gods upon the rocky ground
and through the yards and fields we do bound
now I throw the rocks that land upon your floor
and with heavy feet you roll out the door
to follow us down the darkened streets
to dance with flushed faces around the fire to pounding beats
and join a world you had no part of
until we wrenched your bitter soul from a civilized world.
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
