<?xml version='1.0' encoding='UTF-8'?><?xml-stylesheet href="http://www.blogger.com/styles/atom.css" type="text/css"?><feed xmlns='http://www.w3.org/2005/Atom' xmlns:openSearch='http://a9.com/-/spec/opensearchrss/1.0/' xmlns:georss='http://www.georss.org/georss' xmlns:gd='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005' xmlns:thr='http://purl.org/syndication/thread/1.0'><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6424416383775074569</id><updated>2011-09-11T07:23:05.720-04:00</updated><title type='text'>A Taste of Madeleine</title><subtitle type='html'>In love with words...</subtitle><link rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#feed' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atasteofmadeleine.blogspot.com/feeds/posts/default'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6424416383775074569/posts/default?max-results=100'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atasteofmadeleine.blogspot.com/'/><link rel='hub' href='http://pubsubhubbub.appspot.com/'/><author><name>Madeleine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07079455354824699508</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><generator version='7.00' uri='http://www.blogger.com'>Blogger</generator><openSearch:totalResults>1</openSearch:totalResults><openSearch:startIndex>1</openSearch:startIndex><openSearch:itemsPerPage>100</openSearch:itemsPerPage><entry><id>tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-6424416383775074569.post-8021288507682305421</id><published>2009-09-14T10:02:00.001-04:00</published><updated>2009-09-14T10:06:06.232-04:00</updated><title type='text'>While She's Gone</title><content type='html'>This morning I read that Jim Carroll passed away from a heart attack. His poem, "Whil She's Gone" is one of the most beautiful pieces I've ever read. Each time I read it, I find a new line, passage, word that again amazes me, sends me chills, has me nod in agreement. I never know what to quote from this because the whole poem is worthy of being quoted. He didn't write it for me, but when I encounter such beautiful language that fits so into your life, I just wanted to say...thanks, Jim.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While She's Gone by Jim Carroll&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's too late to change you with language&lt;br /&gt;Your boundaries are always too narrow, and you bury&lt;br /&gt;Yourself beneath a shallow grave of artifice, flesh and perfection&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Look up above the mountain, to the right&lt;br /&gt;Of the castle's turret, that's not a gull&lt;br /&gt;That's a heart.&lt;br /&gt;And of course it's tattered&lt;br /&gt;Swooping too low crossing&lt;br /&gt;The Atlantic to find you, its stomach&lt;br /&gt;Was slit open on the horns of a caribou in Greenland.&lt;br /&gt;Many species of birds have feasted on its eyes.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So, having come this far, I can now barely see you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's two weeks since you've gone&lt;br /&gt;The fragrance you left&lt;br /&gt;Still remains in this apartment&lt;br /&gt;As if it were bracketed to the wall like a shelf&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It remains sweet yet somehow stale&lt;br /&gt;The pressuring scent of expedience&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;How I hunger to devour it to devour you&lt;br /&gt;Slowly, gently, vicious.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I chew on the pubic hairs you left on the sheet&lt;br /&gt;Like a country boy chews a blade of grass as he walks&lt;br /&gt;Near a pond, skimming flat rocks across the water.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;If the angels knew, were kind,&lt;br /&gt;That is where I'd be.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Instead, I have been been sitting down by the Hudson&lt;br /&gt;At the end of the Gansevoort St. Pier&lt;br /&gt;Reading Schiller on the sentimental and naive&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Melville was a customs clerk there&lt;br /&gt;The streets are still cobblestone&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm hoping for an experience that pre-dates you.&lt;br /&gt;For example, being chased by a dragonfly.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;What is not perfect, you deign to destroy.&lt;br /&gt;When you find your idea of perfection&lt;br /&gt;You relax on well-cut grass leading down to the stream.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You make a stranger a lover and a lover a stranger&lt;br /&gt;You isolate the curve of longing&lt;br /&gt;Then accelerate the flow.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It becomes the curve of binding energy.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Under different circumstances,&lt;br /&gt;I could admire that.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I keep finding your long straight hairs&lt;br /&gt;In the blankets in the carpet on the arm&lt;br /&gt;Of the chair where you were working&lt;br /&gt;Perfecting your calligraphy&lt;br /&gt;The lavish tyranny of words&lt;br /&gt;Now I watch the red in each long strand shine, twisted&lt;br /&gt;Between my thumb and forefinger in the window light&lt;br /&gt;I tied one around the neck of an alabaster bear&lt;br /&gt;The rest I just continue to drape across the roses&lt;br /&gt;In the wine bottle beside the kitchen window&lt;br /&gt;It's beginning to look like a spider's web. It seems&lt;br /&gt;That each symbol possible, in time, finds its way back to me.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I put my faith in I put my I put mine in I put my faith in you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;While it rains outside through the night&lt;br /&gt;Through the twilight of the gods&lt;br /&gt;I want to watch the rain falling with you inside&lt;br /&gt;Inside you I want the rain to fall inside you&lt;br /&gt;Lap the drops that drain&lt;br /&gt;Lost, I remain inside you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I took off to swim the river last week&lt;br /&gt;I left the wine glass on the table beside my bed&lt;br /&gt;The one you drank from here&lt;br /&gt;Near full with bottled water, as you asked&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The capricious symbols are turning cliche and wet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;When I got home it was five days later, the humidity&lt;br /&gt;In the city heavy that week but still&lt;br /&gt;When I held it up there was something left, just enough drops&lt;br /&gt;To wash down a pill to fall asleep&lt;br /&gt;Then I filled it again and left it to the sun and defiance&lt;br /&gt;There are times I hate you there is no question&lt;br /&gt;But an unforced grace remains. Your generous silence&lt;br /&gt;Listen,&lt;br /&gt;With our tongues we could tie the laces of angels,&lt;br /&gt;Light or fallen, no matter&lt;br /&gt;Your thighs moved smoothly as Latino gangsters&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's hard to walk from a love that never ended&lt;br /&gt;The fury is deadly, as if I were locked forever&lt;br /&gt;In a room with movies of bridges collapsing&lt;br /&gt;Too rigid for the quick wind&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You see, your leaving occurred without&lt;br /&gt;The foreplay of anxiety which is essential&lt;br /&gt;Before one flies through the window of a car&lt;br /&gt;Out of control&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Unprepared, only a certain yet vague prescience which didn't&lt;br /&gt;Seem to concern me much I left it in your hands&lt;br /&gt;As I took you at your word. Now I see the only means&lt;br /&gt;I had to heal the burn was to replay again and again each permutation&lt;br /&gt;In all its bitterness, and illusion.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It becomes tedious&lt;br /&gt;As the tedious becomes essential apparently&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Cassandra: that's you incarnate&lt;br /&gt;Sweating the details of a future bliss&lt;br /&gt;As if you could control it&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The angels are more confused than ever&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;For once they call out, and there is no one to listen&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You called from a phone by a lake&lt;br /&gt;Deep in the canopy of black forests&lt;br /&gt;The entire country deciduous, leaves rotting&lt;br /&gt;Among the fresh angel skin a heart flown so far, it's fallen&lt;br /&gt;It's grey among the leaves like a dying frog&lt;br /&gt;And, seeing it, you step away, glad you avoided it&lt;br /&gt;I found another of your hairs on the floor&lt;br /&gt;This time I just threw it away it's becoming old&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Gravity&lt;br /&gt;It keeps us from floating away.&lt;br /&gt;yet presses down. We stumble and fall.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought dusk was the moment dividing&lt;br /&gt;Night and day, all things possible.&lt;br /&gt;Yet, tonight looking out from this terrace&lt;br /&gt;Twilight is filled only&lt;br /&gt;With red taillights moving away, to bridges or tunnels&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Yet always water, above or below, red taillights&lt;br /&gt;And the mercurial sadness of another darkness descending&lt;br /&gt;A thicker gravity. So many lost loves&lt;br /&gt;Your boundaries were too narrow&lt;br /&gt;Everything planned assiduously&lt;br /&gt;Within surgical thin perimeters.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Now and then you would test the borders you defined&lt;br /&gt;But never too far, inside the fear of finding yourself&lt;br /&gt;Even for a moment lost. At times you did&lt;br /&gt;Step beyond, paler slightly from the risk,&lt;br /&gt;To burn in the wilder sun, yet always returning&lt;br /&gt;In time for the mail and the certainty and the phone perhaps&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Inside those boundaries assurance and fantasy blur and merge&lt;br /&gt;Inside those boundaries, thought and action become one&lt;br /&gt;Without distinction. Those outside&lt;br /&gt;Get spun, unravel. Your arms shrink in the cause of embrace&lt;br /&gt;What you try to comfort you can no longer reach.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And I've done everything I'm accusing you of.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;All the while I was staring straight&lt;br /&gt;Into a wavering blue flame&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Among the flaws, I watched&lt;br /&gt;Your necessity bloom&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Like careless crawling orchids&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;So imperceptible&lt;br /&gt;I didn't really notice until the first petal fell&lt;br /&gt;And a strange arboreal wind blew it away&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was always seeing you on the move&lt;br /&gt;As if passing in airport after airport&lt;br /&gt;The smell of jet fuel, vanilla, fancy soap and ambivalence&lt;br /&gt;Without an hour hand, a minute hand emblazoned&lt;br /&gt;On its heat and glow, I could have&lt;br /&gt;Watched the dew in these days reveal you as you opened&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Perhaps I could have unveiled my own hesitations, washed the poison&lt;br /&gt;From my lips, held you down by your wrists and watered you&lt;br /&gt;In all resistance. Once again build myself a thirst and drink your overflow&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I could have taken you to the dark gods&lt;br /&gt;Still getting us back home on time&lt;br /&gt;To sleep with the anorexic angel&lt;br /&gt;Who I would pin motionless, radiant&lt;br /&gt;Between your breast and my hand&lt;br /&gt;My hand unyielding&lt;br /&gt;Extended outward as light, the light&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You learned as you lost it in a single moment&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's months now since you've been gone&lt;br /&gt;And what I feel I'll tell you what it's like&lt;br /&gt;It's like a last glass of Spanish Champagne slipping from my hand&lt;br /&gt;Taking months to reach the carpet&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It's like a slow hanging&lt;br /&gt;This city is a scaffold my room's a trapdoor beneath&lt;br /&gt;Not rope but a long red scarf a silk noose&lt;br /&gt;Tightening slightly more day after day&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Even now as I type&lt;br /&gt;My feet are dangling a foot or two above the floor&lt;br /&gt;Breathing only through vanity and my fingertips&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The time hasn't changed since you left&lt;br /&gt;That moment in front of my building throwing your suitcase&lt;br /&gt;Into the trunk of the cab, a Hindu driver. I check the airport route&lt;br /&gt;He has planned for you. We kiss long and sad and I&lt;br /&gt;Watch you drive slowly off, your head craned back at me&lt;br /&gt;I watched until you turned at 19th St. and were out of sight&lt;br /&gt;Leaning my head to the side and feeling the cool of a marble pillar&lt;br /&gt;Against my cheeks making one last wave one last&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I went upstairs, called her, and slept&lt;br /&gt;Forcing myself not to wake until daylight the next day.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You're in Amsterdam.&lt;br /&gt;You know,&lt;br /&gt;If they took those reinforcing beams away&lt;br /&gt;From the old wooden houses along the canals in Holland&lt;br /&gt;They would most likely have fallen into the water by now.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That is your art form&lt;br /&gt;Creating vestiges&lt;br /&gt;Out of lace and lashes.&lt;br /&gt;Everything just fell away.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;The bridges over the canal&lt;br /&gt;They're quaint and banal&lt;br /&gt;Tourist boats pass beneath.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I was a tourist&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;To your body.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why do you smile so widely in every picture I have of you?&lt;br /&gt;Sometimes it makes me feel like slapping you&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In this room everything comes as a whisper.&lt;br /&gt;So what did you say?&lt;br /&gt;Why do I want to know?&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Because that's the way it is for me, and always has:&lt;br /&gt;To be amused, bewildered, bemused, and fucked&lt;br /&gt;Without the slightest aspect left out.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I thought I had been floating with the tide easily&lt;br /&gt;These last three years, not looking ahead yet waiting&lt;br /&gt;For some small island&lt;br /&gt;Even a rock would have done&lt;br /&gt;To land on and survey how far I had come&lt;br /&gt;And if it was worth going on&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;And all the while I now learn you had somehow fixed, shifted the natural flow&lt;br /&gt;And I have been swimming upstream against those vacuumed years.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Salmon are an endangered species&lt;br /&gt;Man, and the paws of black bears&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I'm tired too tired for conjunctions.&lt;br /&gt;Having reached land,&lt;br /&gt;Are you worth love in any form?&lt;br /&gt;An old story getting older&lt;br /&gt;You may not possess irony, but you carry it like a silk purse&lt;br /&gt;Now the mute fog rolls in off the river&lt;br /&gt;And I can't speak.&lt;br /&gt;It makes me listen too hard&lt;br /&gt;With an urge to believe.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Why couldn't we find a love in that too-American exhaustion&lt;br /&gt;Melt into each other as the hour that moans&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;In Europe how you have reached a mountaintop&lt;br /&gt;Whose scent is things dead a thousand years&lt;br /&gt;That is the fragrance of betrayal.&lt;br /&gt;A cologne you took years to create&lt;br /&gt;A chemical pun you mailed me in a white envelope&lt;br /&gt;A white wedding envelope&lt;br /&gt;The chemical wedding of C.R.&lt;br /&gt;Child bride antelope&lt;br /&gt;Collide and elope&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;This cologne is what you would have me press&lt;br /&gt;In two subtle drops around my neck&lt;br /&gt;Like a noose of splintering tears.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;I flew straight through that car window&lt;br /&gt;Without the essential anxiety&lt;br /&gt;And the only way to recover&lt;br /&gt;Is to play it over and over&lt;br /&gt;On a screen too small&lt;br /&gt;For the curve of time in this ward where I have been waiting&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;It makes everyone a fool, awake and in dreams. I wound up&lt;br /&gt;Loving something I was forced to reinvent, deconstruct&lt;br /&gt;Though I know you so well now&lt;br /&gt;Come to understand your meaning&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;That's the worth of a lifetime&lt;br /&gt;Everything else collapses&lt;br /&gt;Or repeats often enough to forget&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;Conscience is no more than the dead speaking to us&lt;br /&gt;It's hard to find comfort&lt;br /&gt;In this world.&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You brought that to me&lt;br /&gt;That's hard to let go.&lt;br /&gt;Only you and I know only you &amp; I&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;See&lt;br /&gt;&lt;br /&gt;You have always been so far away&lt;br /&gt;You have always&lt;br /&gt;Been right here&lt;div class="blogger-post-footer"&gt;&lt;img width='1' height='1' src='https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/tracker/6424416383775074569-8021288507682305421?l=atasteofmadeleine.blogspot.com' alt='' /&gt;&lt;/div&gt;</content><link rel='replies' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://atasteofmadeleine.blogspot.com/feeds/8021288507682305421/comments/default' title='Post Comments'/><link rel='replies' type='text/html' href='http://atasteofmadeleine.blogspot.com/2009/09/while-shes-gone.html#comment-form' title='5 Comments'/><link rel='edit' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6424416383775074569/posts/default/8021288507682305421'/><link rel='self' type='application/atom+xml' href='http://www.blogger.com/feeds/6424416383775074569/posts/default/8021288507682305421'/><link rel='alternate' type='text/html' href='http://atasteofmadeleine.blogspot.com/2009/09/while-shes-gone.html' title='While She&apos;s Gone'/><author><name>Madeleine</name><uri>http://www.blogger.com/profile/07079455354824699508</uri><email>noreply@blogger.com</email><gd:image rel='http://schemas.google.com/g/2005#thumbnail' width='16' height='16' src='http://img2.blogblog.com/img/b16-rounded.gif'/></author><thr:total>5</thr:total></entry></feed>
