Sunshowers (September 16th)

sunny-rain
the rain is full of ghosts tonight

Had the day off from work, and I’m wondering now if it might’ve been a better idea to go in, just to keep my mind occupied from nine to five, if anything. Instead, I’ve spent this mostly grey day mired in melancholy, haunted by ghosts and watching the strange weather through my window as it shifted back and forth between ominous skies and sunshine. Showers came in fits and starts all day, often even when the sun shone.

There’s an old wives’ tale that claims if it’s raining while the sun is shining, it means the Devil is beating his wife. I made that comment off-hand once at work during a sunshower, and most of my officemates were appalled. Only the oldest person in the room, one of our retired volunteers, had ever heard that expression before– to everyone else, it was arcane. Standing at my kitchen window today, wistful and watching the sun shine through the trees while the rain fell, I remembered that old wives’ tale and I couldn’t help but think how fortunate the Devil is to still have a wife, and how he should probably be treating her better.

I was originally going to post the poem “Neutral Tones” by Thomas Hardy to commemorate my old anniversary, as it’s a perfectly greyish poem for this greyish day, but ironically enough, the tone of the poem wasn’t quite right. Instead, I’m going to share a sonnet from Edna St. Vincent Millay, as it’s much more beautiful and its sentiment seems more appropriate.

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What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why (Sonnet XLIII)

What lips my lips have kissed, and where, and why,
I have forgotten, and what arms have lain
Under my head till morning; but the rain
Is full of ghosts tonight, that tap and sigh
Upon the glass and listen for reply,
And in my heart there stirs a quiet pain
For unremembered lads that not again
Will turn to me at midnight with a cry.
Thus in the winter stands the lonely tree,
Nor knows what birds have vanished one by one,
Yet knows its boughs more silent than before:
I cannot say what loves have come and gone,
I only know that summer sang in me
A little while, that in me sings no more.

-Edna St. Vincent Millay

(apologies to Ms. Millay and to Mrs. D.G.S.)

Silver Springs

Got some heartbreaking news through the grapevine the other day, and just felt like sharing one of my favorite performances of one of my favorite songs as I thought it was apropos.  I swear, I can’t make it through this tune without weeping like a damned fool.

So here’s a beautiful song for everyone who’s ever allowed themselves to lose the best thing that ever happened to them.

 

Silver Springs

You could be my silver spring,
Blue green colors flashing.
I would be your only dream–
Your shining autumn, ocean crashing…
And did you say she was pretty?
And did you say that she loves you?
Baby, I don’t wanna know.

I’ll begin not to love you,
Turn around, see me runnin’.
I’ll say I loved you years ago…
Tell myself you never loved me, no.
And did you say she was pretty?
And did you say that she loves you?
Baby, I don’t wanna know.
Oh, no…
And can you tell me, was it worth it?
Really, I don’t wanna know.

Time casts a spell on you, but you won’t forget me.
I know I could have loved you, but you would not let me.
I’ll follow you down ’til the sound of my voice will haunt you–
You’ll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you.

I’ll follow you down ’til the sound of my voice will haunt you–
Was I such a fool?
You’ll never get away from the sound of the woman that loves you.
Was I such a fool?
I’ll follow you down ’til the sound of my voice will haunt you–
Give me just a chance…
You’ll never get away (never get away, never get away)
from the sound of the woman that loves you.

You could be my silver spring,
My blue green colors flashing.

Treading Softly

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He Wishes for the Cloths of Heaven

Had I the heavens’ embroidered cloths,
Enwrought with golden and silver light,
The blue and the dim and the dark cloths
Of night and light and the half-light,
I would spread the cloths under your feet:
But I, being poor, have only my dreams;
I have spread my dreams under your feet;
Tread softly because you tread on my dreams.

-W.B. Yeats

Life is Burritoful

IMG_2851 2the hell it is

Decided to be sociable the other night with some of my work folks and attend a fundraiser for my library at Chipotle, that smug bastion of fast food Tex-Mex for young urban hipsters.  Well, that was a huge fucking mistake.  I’d wager a bet that those folks who’ve contracted E.coli whilst eating their overpriced burritos fared better than I did that night, all things considered.  I’d have gladly traded gastro-intestinal distress for the psychological distress I suffered that evening.  There’s a reason I don’t go out in public anymore– too many painful reminders as to how my social inadequacies have ruined damn near every opportunity I’ve ever had for true happiness.  And that kind of failure is unabashedly soul crushing.

P.S.- Two dollars for a ketchup-sized cup of guacamole?  And since when is Dos Equis a “Premium Beer?”  Fuck you, Chipotle.

Reason to Believe

Revisited this ol’ ditty tonight for reasons unknown to anyone (including myself) and must’ve listened to it seven or eight times before I realized that it’s way past my bed time.  Such a sad, sad song, but so sweet and sincere, too.   Arguably one of the best songs ever written, by Mr. Tim Hardin, but recorded and re-recorded by so many others.  The version I’m highlighting in this post is Johnny Cash’s rendition of the tune circa 1975.

Reason to Believe

If I listened long enough to you,
I’d find a way to believe that it’s all true.
Knowing that you lied straight-faced while I cried–
Still I look to find a reason to believe…

Someone like you makes it hard to live without
Somebody else.
Someone like you makes it easy to give,
Never thinkin’ of myself…

If I gave you time to change my mind,
I’d find a way to leave the past behind.
Knowing that you lied straight-faced while I cried–
Still I look to find a reason to believe…

If I listened long enough to you,
I’d find a way to believe that it’s all true.
Knowing that you lied straight-faced while I cried–
Still I look to find a reason to believe…

-Tim Hardin