Someoneweknew• Show poetry

"Why, I aint even the only one. He lovedyou. Anton did. With my own eyes I saw that man come rushing out of his hiding place to save you. And I saw his face, and I ain't never gonna forget what was written there. 'Cause it said: 'I'd give my own life to save her.'"

Together we watched an icy rain make slapping sounds against the window. After a while Ruth said something, something about her galoshes which I didn't hear, probably because I had become too deeply encased in comfort. With my eyes closed, feeling the warmth of Ruth against me, I could believe in so many things. Ruth had never been fired; I had never been found out; and Anton had never been killed. He was waiting for me now, alive in the hideout, and when night came, we'd go away. Morocco or Mexico. Somewhere, anywhere, together.

                                  ~Summer of My German Soldier


hearts will never be practical until they are made unbreakable.
~wizard of oz




"If we shadows have offended, think but this, and all is mended. That you have but slumbered here, while these visions did appear, and this weak and idle theme, no more yielding but a dream. Gentles, do not reprehend. If you pardon, we will mend. Else the Puck a liar call. And so good night unto you all. Give me your hands, if we be friends, and Robin shall restore amends."

                      -William Shakespeare






Sometimes at night I think one can feel even the pressure of mice waiting in the walls of old houses. All that concentrated life around us and above us, held in check, surging impatiently, ready for a new experiment, tired of us, waiting our passing.... It is perhaps significant that even we ourselves feel a growing inadequecy. Perhaps that is really the secret. Perhaps we are going away.


 

                           

                           WAITING