For a long time, I was thinking about starting a blog. I would think of it and then draw back. I had too many questions and too many doubts
What would I say? And why? For my own vanity? To sell something?
Did I really want to spend more time on the computer!? Hadn’t I already enough facebook/Twitter/LinkedIn/etc. profiles? More?! Madness…
Such were my thoughts. Every so…
Be very clear about this,
If about nothing else:
These things in boxes and bags
And polythene wraps…
They are not your life
And they never were.
Somehow,
There arose in you
A confusion;
You mis-placed the world
In these objects of desire
Of memory and
Obligation.
But
It is possible to walk away;
It is difficult, but possible.
It is discouraged, but it is possible.
It is…
Dark night. Wild wood. The moon howls. Gorse grasps, branch cuts, brier tears. You run and you run and you run. The ground is broken and betrays your feet. Ice grips, frost crackles. But this is not the night of beauty. You are lost. Crows cackle in the dark — this is their midnight. The darkness owns the land. Feet twist, hands reach, and you run. Why
I will chase your ghost through the garden,
Through all the gardens,
Through scenery that collapses and assembles
In an endless variety of illusions.
I will hound your deathly footsteps;
I will be the one constantly laying
Primroses,
Snowdrops,
Cowslips under your feet.
You want to haunt the kingdom of the Dead;
I will haunt you:
I will be the ghost to your ghost
Wherever you go.
All the…