"Isn't That Interesting...?"
Jul. 1st, 2006 11:14 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
They're setting off (illegal) fireworks in Halifax, Duncannon, Camp Hill, and Marysville, and we can see them from here, even though we're rather far away, especially from Halifax. They keep making popping splittering cracking noises and Mum and Waen went out to stand on the hill by the Goblin House and watch them.
They didn't tell me they were going, or I would have gone too...!
I realised that with my salary at work, I'll be able to buy my own tickets to New York. I earn minimum wage, but that'll still be more than enough to go see Hamlet with my Ladymine. It's actually very exciting to realise. Only I was wondering, Zara--if you don't mind--could I have the schedules? Daddy wants to see them. He's still suspicious.
(He's being awful to-day. I have had not to speak to him at least three times.)
They didn't tell me they were going, or I would have gone too...!
I realised that with my salary at work, I'll be able to buy my own tickets to New York. I earn minimum wage, but that'll still be more than enough to go see Hamlet with my Ladymine. It's actually very exciting to realise. Only I was wondering, Zara--if you don't mind--could I have the schedules? Daddy wants to see them. He's still suspicious.
(He's being awful to-day. I have had not to speak to him at least three times.)
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Date: 2006-07-14 04:00 am (UTC)Ohohohoh. In this entry (http://rainbowjehan.livejournal.com/660529.html) I'm all HAMLET POEM and according to Narilsa this entry (http://rainbowjehan.livejournal.com/77515.html) is what inspired this poem (http://reincineir.livejournal.com/234427.html#cutid1):
'I am dead,' the actor said
poetic trinity
three syllables unfolding slow--
noun, verb, eternity
perhaps I'll say these words again
perhaps then they'll mean something more;
no exeunt noble from a play
but grim reality: death in war
locked in poetic half-frenzy
chained in artistic lethean space
who doth hold me close and dear?
it seems to me I know your face
take this rosemary sprig, my love
go on, then, and haunt me--
truly 'what a wounded name'
your face stirs in my memory...
...Rodolphe. yes... I remember now
art thou my Horatio, come apace?
no, sometimes thou seemst drowned Ophelia--
come, drown instead in my embrace
rend me with your mournful touch
rush with the poison through my veins
tease my mind with tortured memory
clasp my sanity in your chains
so crown me prince and make me sing
these empty words to you--
I dare not see reality
i dare not say I love you too
Rodolphe...
...dolphe...
...delphe...
...delphic...
...Apollo, Delphic Lord.
my epithet's derived from you
and now at last I see--
everything you've said is true
all of you comes back to me.
"oh, I die, Horatio..."
...kiss me, once, before I go.
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