Who would have thought there'd be so much
Blood in him?
Black blood,
Blood stopp'd in the vein,
Dried blood,
Blood that does not know pain.
Who would have thought there'd be so much
Blood in her?
Free blood,
Blood that flows on the lunar order,
Love blood,
Blood the river of life.
Who would have thought there'd be so much
Blood in me?
Alas,
My blood
Is wasted.
It is
Treasure forsaken,
It is
Water poured upon the ground.
To dry;
And,
My love,
To die.
Wednesday, April 06, 2011
Let's get God out of the Classroom
There are many pros and cons about private and public schools. One is bloody expensive, another will cost you peanuts. One has nicer buildings, another generally has nicer people. But one of the most important factors is religion.
Here, private and independent schools are mostly religious. Catholic, most of them, and quite a few are sex-segregated, at least for secondary school. And I wouldn't go to one, personally, nor would I send any children of mine to one. But I'm not totally opposed to it. Most of them offer what schools should offer - sound, wholesome education, all in the name of God and stuffy uniforms.
Public schools here are, in theory, secular. And I'm a profound believer in secularism. I think it's unfair that children are born into religious households and are expected to be obedient to whatever religion they happen to be born to. Did anyone ask if they wanted to be a Christian, a Hindu, a Muslim, a Jew? No. I also believe that very young children don't fully believe religion and what it entails, so they either don't take it seriously, which means the virtues of religion are wasted on them, or they take it too seriously and become our next generation of tyrants.
But the problem to my dilemma would be simple - go to a public, secular school.
But, you see, public schools here aren't really that secular at all. It varies from state to state and area to area, but all public schools lean slightly to the right and, I think, slightly into the bosom of God. I know of public schools who have compulsory religious education, and by religious education we mean bible and scripture lessons. When I was in primary school we had a School Prayer. I remember it, vividly:
O God we pray that you will help us
To be thoughtful and kind to each other,
Friendly and honest in all we do,
Grant our live shall be such that
No word, thought, or deed shall ever disgrace the name of our school,
Or shame those we love best,
Amen.
Now, it's not exactly a jihad or a Hail Mary, but as I got older I found this prayer more and more offensive. Prayer is for religious people, and I have deeply private and personal reasons why I am not religious. Why should I pray to a God I do not believe in, do not believe exists?
Now, an idyllic school wouldn't have a school prayer. Prayer is for churches, for societies where participants are there on a volunteer basis. A reasonable would have the prayer, but not have teachers watching us like a hawk to make sure we say the blessed words.
Whenever I tried to complain about saying the prayer, they said the same thing, all the time. 'Just say it to your own God'.
This, my dear friend, is why I disliked Christianity and Christians as a whole for a long time. It is an easy thing, as a child, to balk at something and dislike the whole lot. For me Christians were a rather unreasonable lot. Who are they to tell me what to say? What do they know about being, feeling, utterly Godforsaken? Nothing, I tell you, nothing.
I have friends who had it a lot worse. Why should children of all beliefs be forced to attend classes about a single religion? Since when has Christianity been the be all and end all of everything? We are a free country of free men, and yes, free children. Treat us that way.
They tell us we live in a free country, and perhaps that is true. There are no laws against freedom of speech and religion. On the surface all are equal and at liberty.
But freedom has its ways of ensnaring people. The paper may say one thing but the people...the people say another. In a society of few rules people make up their own. It is insecurity. We need rules to know that some stranger isn't going to go 'boo' in the night. Social persuation, Australians are particularly susceptible to that. If they're doing it, I'm doing it. If they're not doing it, I'm not gonna be the first.
So in anything - religion, politics, whether one wears strips or spots - it is not what, but who, and how many, that matters. The lack of rules is very clever. We're trapped in our own social invulnerabilities. There may be no rules that says that I must participate in Christian beliefs, but Judeo-Christian values have infilterated the core of society, every single element, for better or for worse. But societal betters and peers force you into things. If I hadn't said the prayer it wouldn't have rubbed up the teachers very well, but lets face it, I was never known for buttering up primary school teachers, but if I had openly voiced out against it I would have been a freak. And over what? They're just words. But they mean something to them, and it's a great offense to them, that I not participate what sometimes seems more of a cult than a religion sometimes, to certain people. And those words, and the absence of them in my life, mean something to me.
People can't take individuality, uniqueness. It absolutely terrifies them. If I give you salt, you're okay with it, because you know all its going to do is make your food salty. If I give you some unlabled foreign spice, you'd freak out. And I was the spice, dear friend, amongst all the salt. Social ostracization is the worst punishment of all, and I think Australians use and fear it quite nicely.
I said the damned prayer, and I lost all my respect for religion and religious people. Religion is about peace and tolerance, not about dictators frightening the gullible into things. It's explotation, especially to primary school students. It's a vulnerable target for people who corrupt the religion of Christianity into a business.
Religion is a private thing. Perhaps if I had given adequate time to meditate upon it, perhaps if I don't spend my life with people hounding me with the endless question of heaven and hell, I would have chosen one and settled nicely into it. But I've given up on the whole notion. If religion is pure truth, innocence, then people have blackened it with our own sin, our own greed for power, and to be part of the masses. I see nothing in it now for me.
If you want your child to have religious education, go to church. Or a private school. Or both. People with strong religious beliefs really have no place in secular education, just like people who are as profoundly atheist as I am have no place in religious education.
Get God out of the classroom. Stop doing all this crap in the name of God. If God exists, I doubt he'd be happy with these so-called evangelicals who have corrupted religion and diseased our society with false pretences and empty promises. They give everyone a bad name. We have a right to a secular society.
Here, private and independent schools are mostly religious. Catholic, most of them, and quite a few are sex-segregated, at least for secondary school. And I wouldn't go to one, personally, nor would I send any children of mine to one. But I'm not totally opposed to it. Most of them offer what schools should offer - sound, wholesome education, all in the name of God and stuffy uniforms.
Public schools here are, in theory, secular. And I'm a profound believer in secularism. I think it's unfair that children are born into religious households and are expected to be obedient to whatever religion they happen to be born to. Did anyone ask if they wanted to be a Christian, a Hindu, a Muslim, a Jew? No. I also believe that very young children don't fully believe religion and what it entails, so they either don't take it seriously, which means the virtues of religion are wasted on them, or they take it too seriously and become our next generation of tyrants.
But the problem to my dilemma would be simple - go to a public, secular school.
But, you see, public schools here aren't really that secular at all. It varies from state to state and area to area, but all public schools lean slightly to the right and, I think, slightly into the bosom of God. I know of public schools who have compulsory religious education, and by religious education we mean bible and scripture lessons. When I was in primary school we had a School Prayer. I remember it, vividly:
O God we pray that you will help us
To be thoughtful and kind to each other,
Friendly and honest in all we do,
Grant our live shall be such that
No word, thought, or deed shall ever disgrace the name of our school,
Or shame those we love best,
Amen.
Now, it's not exactly a jihad or a Hail Mary, but as I got older I found this prayer more and more offensive. Prayer is for religious people, and I have deeply private and personal reasons why I am not religious. Why should I pray to a God I do not believe in, do not believe exists?
Now, an idyllic school wouldn't have a school prayer. Prayer is for churches, for societies where participants are there on a volunteer basis. A reasonable would have the prayer, but not have teachers watching us like a hawk to make sure we say the blessed words.
Whenever I tried to complain about saying the prayer, they said the same thing, all the time. 'Just say it to your own God'.
This, my dear friend, is why I disliked Christianity and Christians as a whole for a long time. It is an easy thing, as a child, to balk at something and dislike the whole lot. For me Christians were a rather unreasonable lot. Who are they to tell me what to say? What do they know about being, feeling, utterly Godforsaken? Nothing, I tell you, nothing.
I have friends who had it a lot worse. Why should children of all beliefs be forced to attend classes about a single religion? Since when has Christianity been the be all and end all of everything? We are a free country of free men, and yes, free children. Treat us that way.
They tell us we live in a free country, and perhaps that is true. There are no laws against freedom of speech and religion. On the surface all are equal and at liberty.
But freedom has its ways of ensnaring people. The paper may say one thing but the people...the people say another. In a society of few rules people make up their own. It is insecurity. We need rules to know that some stranger isn't going to go 'boo' in the night. Social persuation, Australians are particularly susceptible to that. If they're doing it, I'm doing it. If they're not doing it, I'm not gonna be the first.
So in anything - religion, politics, whether one wears strips or spots - it is not what, but who, and how many, that matters. The lack of rules is very clever. We're trapped in our own social invulnerabilities. There may be no rules that says that I must participate in Christian beliefs, but Judeo-Christian values have infilterated the core of society, every single element, for better or for worse. But societal betters and peers force you into things. If I hadn't said the prayer it wouldn't have rubbed up the teachers very well, but lets face it, I was never known for buttering up primary school teachers, but if I had openly voiced out against it I would have been a freak. And over what? They're just words. But they mean something to them, and it's a great offense to them, that I not participate what sometimes seems more of a cult than a religion sometimes, to certain people. And those words, and the absence of them in my life, mean something to me.
People can't take individuality, uniqueness. It absolutely terrifies them. If I give you salt, you're okay with it, because you know all its going to do is make your food salty. If I give you some unlabled foreign spice, you'd freak out. And I was the spice, dear friend, amongst all the salt. Social ostracization is the worst punishment of all, and I think Australians use and fear it quite nicely.
I said the damned prayer, and I lost all my respect for religion and religious people. Religion is about peace and tolerance, not about dictators frightening the gullible into things. It's explotation, especially to primary school students. It's a vulnerable target for people who corrupt the religion of Christianity into a business.
Religion is a private thing. Perhaps if I had given adequate time to meditate upon it, perhaps if I don't spend my life with people hounding me with the endless question of heaven and hell, I would have chosen one and settled nicely into it. But I've given up on the whole notion. If religion is pure truth, innocence, then people have blackened it with our own sin, our own greed for power, and to be part of the masses. I see nothing in it now for me.
If you want your child to have religious education, go to church. Or a private school. Or both. People with strong religious beliefs really have no place in secular education, just like people who are as profoundly atheist as I am have no place in religious education.
Get God out of the classroom. Stop doing all this crap in the name of God. If God exists, I doubt he'd be happy with these so-called evangelicals who have corrupted religion and diseased our society with false pretences and empty promises. They give everyone a bad name. We have a right to a secular society.
Friday, April 01, 2011
Intelligence.
People often confuse studiousness, smartness and intelligence.
Studiousness is a talent. Anyone with half a brain can be studious - it doesn't make them smart or intelligent. It just means they can stare at a book longer than the rest of us, and get more out of it than most.
Smartness comes in two forms. There's the bookie smartness, which means that instead of just staring at a book and learning how to pass an exam, you can think about it. You can ask the basics. Who, what, when, where...and why? Why? The second kind of smartness is a social smartness. If the only thing you are accustomed to is a book, then you're not going to get very far in life. People smartness. Wit, charisma. It's a form of smart. It saves your neck.
Intelligence is something else. Intelligence is not something you're born with, but it's not something you can acquire or gain or manufacture. It's just there, or it's not. It's a higher level of thinking. When you talk to someone who is intelligent, they have substance, they're bursting with things to say. They can relate to things you present to them, compare it to things they know, take from it what they didn't know before. Everything in the world poses a question to an intelligent person, everyone in the world is completely different in the eyes of someone intelligent.
Intelligence is a double-edged sword. The world is sharp, defined, clear, beautiful, but it's like an artist trying to explain the simple beauty and majesty of his work to a blind person. It doesn't work. With intelligence, seeing is believing.
I admire people who can study well, I really do. I wish I had it in me to sit down, shut up, and actually do something productive. I have my spurts, my grand moments of massive industriousness, but it's not like I can sit down for three hours every day and look at the same books over and over and actually consider it a good use of my time. But studious people tend to be rather dull, rather one-dimentional. I love the written word, but it's only one means of learning - and I truly detest people who go through life with the mantra of 'if it's not in the book, I don't know it'. These days we have to write books and web pages about everything. The more how-tos you read, the more common sense drips away.
I think I'm a tolerably smart person. I don't understand people but I know how to hold my ground against them - which is quite another thing from charisma, but I get by well enough on it. When it comes to learning, 'why' is the thing in my head. I want to know how the world works. I think numbers and formulas oversimplify our intricately imperfect world - there are anomalies in everything that maths and science just can't account for. The kind of understanding I look for is a true knowledge of why, and why it didn't happen.
Perhaps we all think we are intelligent. I certainly think so. I'm not going to pretend that I don't think I've got anything good to say, because I do. I've got plenty to say, and just because you may not agree with it all doesn't mean it doesn't come from an intelligent mind.
Intelligence is something I prize in myself above all. It's not about school marks, or success. It's about a connection, one intelligent person to another. It's something I value the most in friends - because intelligence is a deeper connection, a blood tie. I get you, you get me. It's not about agreeing - I rarely agree with the intelligent and the more intelligent than me. But it's...it just is.
There's a spark in an intelligent person's eye. I can tell if someone has got something good to say by the look in their eye. An intelligent person is never bored of the world around them. They may be infuriated, frustrated, complacent, but there is always something to fascinate. Anyone genuinely bored not just with what is in the passing, but with life in general, lacks intelligence in my opinion.
But sometimes they have this spark, but they just haven't got it. They've got nothing good to say. It's like arguing a case in court with no evidence. A trapdoor does not stay shut unless it's been bolted. Otherwise you fall straight through your own trap.
What do you think? Do you think you're intelligent? Do you think I am?
Studiousness is a talent. Anyone with half a brain can be studious - it doesn't make them smart or intelligent. It just means they can stare at a book longer than the rest of us, and get more out of it than most.
Smartness comes in two forms. There's the bookie smartness, which means that instead of just staring at a book and learning how to pass an exam, you can think about it. You can ask the basics. Who, what, when, where...and why? Why? The second kind of smartness is a social smartness. If the only thing you are accustomed to is a book, then you're not going to get very far in life. People smartness. Wit, charisma. It's a form of smart. It saves your neck.
Intelligence is something else. Intelligence is not something you're born with, but it's not something you can acquire or gain or manufacture. It's just there, or it's not. It's a higher level of thinking. When you talk to someone who is intelligent, they have substance, they're bursting with things to say. They can relate to things you present to them, compare it to things they know, take from it what they didn't know before. Everything in the world poses a question to an intelligent person, everyone in the world is completely different in the eyes of someone intelligent.
Intelligence is a double-edged sword. The world is sharp, defined, clear, beautiful, but it's like an artist trying to explain the simple beauty and majesty of his work to a blind person. It doesn't work. With intelligence, seeing is believing.
I admire people who can study well, I really do. I wish I had it in me to sit down, shut up, and actually do something productive. I have my spurts, my grand moments of massive industriousness, but it's not like I can sit down for three hours every day and look at the same books over and over and actually consider it a good use of my time. But studious people tend to be rather dull, rather one-dimentional. I love the written word, but it's only one means of learning - and I truly detest people who go through life with the mantra of 'if it's not in the book, I don't know it'. These days we have to write books and web pages about everything. The more how-tos you read, the more common sense drips away.
I think I'm a tolerably smart person. I don't understand people but I know how to hold my ground against them - which is quite another thing from charisma, but I get by well enough on it. When it comes to learning, 'why' is the thing in my head. I want to know how the world works. I think numbers and formulas oversimplify our intricately imperfect world - there are anomalies in everything that maths and science just can't account for. The kind of understanding I look for is a true knowledge of why, and why it didn't happen.
Perhaps we all think we are intelligent. I certainly think so. I'm not going to pretend that I don't think I've got anything good to say, because I do. I've got plenty to say, and just because you may not agree with it all doesn't mean it doesn't come from an intelligent mind.
Intelligence is something I prize in myself above all. It's not about school marks, or success. It's about a connection, one intelligent person to another. It's something I value the most in friends - because intelligence is a deeper connection, a blood tie. I get you, you get me. It's not about agreeing - I rarely agree with the intelligent and the more intelligent than me. But it's...it just is.
There's a spark in an intelligent person's eye. I can tell if someone has got something good to say by the look in their eye. An intelligent person is never bored of the world around them. They may be infuriated, frustrated, complacent, but there is always something to fascinate. Anyone genuinely bored not just with what is in the passing, but with life in general, lacks intelligence in my opinion.
But sometimes they have this spark, but they just haven't got it. They've got nothing good to say. It's like arguing a case in court with no evidence. A trapdoor does not stay shut unless it's been bolted. Otherwise you fall straight through your own trap.
What do you think? Do you think you're intelligent? Do you think I am?
Sunday, March 27, 2011
Yeah, about the followers thing...
My followers gadget hasn't been working for a litte while now. Soz, lol.
I think it was something to do with the fact that I unsuccessfully tried to change the URL of this thing, but it didn't work and now I'm stuck with a follower's gadget that's as stuffed as Libya. And I'm pretty shit at technology - as in, it took me about seven years how to turn a computer on or use the DVD player. So that thing may stay broken for a while.
Soz, lol.
And sorry my English is degenerating - after all the essays I've had to write lately the only thing coming to my head is soz, lol. Soz, lol.
I should go now. KaPow.
I think it was something to do with the fact that I unsuccessfully tried to change the URL of this thing, but it didn't work and now I'm stuck with a follower's gadget that's as stuffed as Libya. And I'm pretty shit at technology - as in, it took me about seven years how to turn a computer on or use the DVD player. So that thing may stay broken for a while.
Soz, lol.
And sorry my English is degenerating - after all the essays I've had to write lately the only thing coming to my head is soz, lol. Soz, lol.
I should go now. KaPow.
Saturday, March 26, 2011
The Beauty Infants.
I've always been opposed to pageants of all sorts. There are many reasons for this. One, I am fat and ugly and proud of it - it's called being normal. Two, I only believe in competitions that are based on talent and merit - and beauty is not a talent, it's just luck. Three, I love Miss Congeniality.
I'm also opposed to the exploitation of children, for obvious reasons.
And so they've combined my two pet hates into one truly horrendous cult: child beauty pageants.
You see little kids forced into diets, botox, and the glory gory of waxing. Did anyone ask them 'hey, do you want to be a premature painful barbie doll that everyone will criticize and call plastic?' or 'do you want to die a wrinkly old hag that nobody loves?'. No. People just assume that children like being aliens doing alien things.
When I was little I wore tucked in cartoon shirts and harry high pants, just like all the other kids. We were dirty and messy and roly-poly, because we were kids. I loved dressing up, but only for ballet - my makeup obsession came later, when it was slightly more acceptable. I had a love hate relationship with my barbie dolls - I would make them stay in splits with their arms up for days, so they could FEEL MY PAIN. My favourite toy was a fat purple bunny rabbit which, with time and age, became as luminous and incandescent and breathtakingly beautiful as I grew up to be.
Child beauty pageants force children into things that they don't fully understand. Parents claim that their children like it, but it's because they don't know any better. When I was little I remember being traumatized by needles, and those injections and blood samples were to save my life - not to look pretty. Even now I can't bring myself to pluck my eyebrows, even though I'm getting too old to socially get away with it. After my heart operations I swore I would never go under the knife for something as superficial as beauty, which fades anyway if you manage to be born with some.
Kids are kids, not bits of plastic you can doll up and inject random crap into for cash and fame. I see all these dolled up girls wearing tiaras that are bigger than them and I just want to cry. All we're telling them is that all we're ever going to judge them by is how skinny they are, how pretty they are, and how much makeup they wear. What kind of message are we giving to people so young and impressionable?
Pageant moms should be ashamed of themselves. They deserve to be thrown into prison and never let out, for the good of society. Go fuck yourselves, but leave the kids alone.
I'm also opposed to the exploitation of children, for obvious reasons.
And so they've combined my two pet hates into one truly horrendous cult: child beauty pageants.
You see little kids forced into diets, botox, and the glory gory of waxing. Did anyone ask them 'hey, do you want to be a premature painful barbie doll that everyone will criticize and call plastic?' or 'do you want to die a wrinkly old hag that nobody loves?'. No. People just assume that children like being aliens doing alien things.
When I was little I wore tucked in cartoon shirts and harry high pants, just like all the other kids. We were dirty and messy and roly-poly, because we were kids. I loved dressing up, but only for ballet - my makeup obsession came later, when it was slightly more acceptable. I had a love hate relationship with my barbie dolls - I would make them stay in splits with their arms up for days, so they could FEEL MY PAIN. My favourite toy was a fat purple bunny rabbit which, with time and age, became as luminous and incandescent and breathtakingly beautiful as I grew up to be.
Child beauty pageants force children into things that they don't fully understand. Parents claim that their children like it, but it's because they don't know any better. When I was little I remember being traumatized by needles, and those injections and blood samples were to save my life - not to look pretty. Even now I can't bring myself to pluck my eyebrows, even though I'm getting too old to socially get away with it. After my heart operations I swore I would never go under the knife for something as superficial as beauty, which fades anyway if you manage to be born with some.
Kids are kids, not bits of plastic you can doll up and inject random crap into for cash and fame. I see all these dolled up girls wearing tiaras that are bigger than them and I just want to cry. All we're telling them is that all we're ever going to judge them by is how skinny they are, how pretty they are, and how much makeup they wear. What kind of message are we giving to people so young and impressionable?
Pageant moms should be ashamed of themselves. They deserve to be thrown into prison and never let out, for the good of society. Go fuck yourselves, but leave the kids alone.
This is What a Real Woman Looks Like.
What disgusts me is that people photoshop women into pretty aliens, and then sell them to men as 'real women'. Of course we have spots. Of course we don't walk around with a hairdryer placed strategically to fan out our hair. We don't wake up with shimmery eyeshadow or mascara on. The average woman is just as ugly as the average man, but that seems to be news to a lot of them.
Sad.
Friday, March 18, 2011
Missing Heath.
Perth is a rather small, boring concrete jungle. As such, we have very little internationally-recognised artistic talent to boast of.
Until about three years ago, we had one thing we could boast of: Heath Ledger, our Heath, was born and raised here, on boring Perth soil. It was truly a case of a single spark lighting a bushfire. Heath Ledger's legacy has trancended death - he remains one of the most gifted actors to ever call Australia home.
Life goes on, despite death. But whenever I see a picture of him, or a clip of one of his movies, you can't help but feel that his untimely death as a young man (and father) at the age of twenty-eight is such a waste. Who knows what he might have become - not that what he did achieve is not worth boasting of.
We all miss Heath, our golden Perth boy. Other celebrities come and go, wasted by fame, but for one reason or another, it's Heath we miss the most.
Until about three years ago, we had one thing we could boast of: Heath Ledger, our Heath, was born and raised here, on boring Perth soil. It was truly a case of a single spark lighting a bushfire. Heath Ledger's legacy has trancended death - he remains one of the most gifted actors to ever call Australia home.
Life goes on, despite death. But whenever I see a picture of him, or a clip of one of his movies, you can't help but feel that his untimely death as a young man (and father) at the age of twenty-eight is such a waste. Who knows what he might have become - not that what he did achieve is not worth boasting of.
We all miss Heath, our golden Perth boy. Other celebrities come and go, wasted by fame, but for one reason or another, it's Heath we miss the most.
Japan Earthquake, Tsunami and Nuclear Disaster.
My heart goes out to those affected by the Japanese Earthquakes recently. I pray that they will find the strength to weather the storms ahead of them and I urge you all to donate to the Red Cross Appeal.
Trust in humanity is all we have.
Lady S.
Trust in humanity is all we have.
Lady S.
Thursday, March 17, 2011
You'll be the melody, I'll be the harmony,
I'll be the rhythm and you'll be the beat.
You'll be the neutron, I'll be the proton,
I'll be the bitter and you'll be the sweet.
I'll be the 'love', you'll be the 'always',
You'll be the umbrella on our rainy days,
You'll be the fire and I'll be the matches,
I'll be the red that appears on your cheek in patches.
You'll be the song, I'll be the dance,
I'll be the spark of this crazy romance,
I'll be the dimple, you'll be the smile,
You'll be my Romeo of this Shakespeare gone wild.
I'll be your Lizzy, you'll be my Darcy,
You'll be the cake and I'll be the party.
I'll be the reflection, you'll be the mirror,
And we'll both be anything to make this poem cheesier.
Inspired by the amazing movie 'Griff the Invisible'.
I'll be the rhythm and you'll be the beat.
You'll be the neutron, I'll be the proton,
I'll be the bitter and you'll be the sweet.
I'll be the 'love', you'll be the 'always',
You'll be the umbrella on our rainy days,
You'll be the fire and I'll be the matches,
I'll be the red that appears on your cheek in patches.
You'll be the song, I'll be the dance,
I'll be the spark of this crazy romance,
I'll be the dimple, you'll be the smile,
You'll be my Romeo of this Shakespeare gone wild.
I'll be your Lizzy, you'll be my Darcy,
You'll be the cake and I'll be the party.
I'll be the reflection, you'll be the mirror,
And we'll both be anything to make this poem cheesier.
Inspired by the amazing movie 'Griff the Invisible'.
Saturday, March 12, 2011
Ophelia
Ophelia lies in her watery grace,
The beautiful flower of this wretched place,
In a poisoned castle mopes a poisoned prince,
Wedding and funeral,
Haven't seen him since,
Ophelia waits out her
Lover's pain,
But there is all to lose,
And nothing to gain.
Ophelia lies in her watery place,
Contaminated by madness,
Beauty gone to waste.
In a miserable tower our miserable lord is trapped
On a suicidal road his infected mind has mapped,
Ophelia waits out her
Lover's pain,
But there is all to lose,
And nothing to gain.
Ophelia lies in her watery bed,
All sense gone,
Insanity left in its stead.
In a bitter palace our bitter prince plots
Our sick twisted story of paradise lost,
Ophelia waits out her
Lover's pain,
But there is all to lose,
And nothing to gain
Ophelia lies in her watery grave,
In Hamlet's bittersweet gamble,
Ophelia's life was staked.
In a poisoned place our poisoned prince will die,
But Ophelia cannot weep as the dead do not cry.
Ophelia waited out her
Lover's pain,
But now there is nothing to lose,
And nothing to gain.
The beautiful flower of this wretched place,
In a poisoned castle mopes a poisoned prince,
Wedding and funeral,
Haven't seen him since,
Ophelia waits out her
Lover's pain,
But there is all to lose,
And nothing to gain.
Ophelia lies in her watery place,
Contaminated by madness,
Beauty gone to waste.
In a miserable tower our miserable lord is trapped
On a suicidal road his infected mind has mapped,
Ophelia waits out her
Lover's pain,
But there is all to lose,
And nothing to gain.
Ophelia lies in her watery bed,
All sense gone,
Insanity left in its stead.
In a bitter palace our bitter prince plots
Our sick twisted story of paradise lost,
Ophelia waits out her
Lover's pain,
But there is all to lose,
And nothing to gain
Ophelia lies in her watery grave,
In Hamlet's bittersweet gamble,
Ophelia's life was staked.
In a poisoned place our poisoned prince will die,
But Ophelia cannot weep as the dead do not cry.
Ophelia waited out her
Lover's pain,
But now there is nothing to lose,
And nothing to gain.
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