even as i sit here, with eagles and mountains, and the words of michelangelo and tagore running through my mind… even as i sit here, knowing, as i do, that it is february 11, and it cannot be much longer… even as i sit here with caffeine already running through my veins… i find myself fidgeting so violently i feel as if i need drugs to see me through this. i don’t remember ever having had to be this patient, or ever thinking that a person could really die from waiting. but it is so difficult, having to go through my daily motions, attempting to “finish things before i leave,” yet never really sure if i will even get to leave.

yet still i wait.

i think that one of my greatest gains from singing in the choir has been a renewal of interest in poetry. although i shouldn’t call it a renewal, really. as a student of literature, i was least interested in poetry, hated it when peers asked me to critique their works, and stayed well away from the poetry section during exams. i could not feel poems even when i understood them, and that made for dislike. but when we started singing works based on lorca’s poetry, something sparked; the lyrical beauty behind words so expertly chosen and put together touched me. there is something about saying so much with so little… there is music in poetry and poetry in music… so, there has been no turning back since. i wish i hadn’t come into it so late though. there is so much poetry out there, and so much more being written day after day after day. and, i cannot just read ee cummings all the time.

all these – meaningless, empty words that i wrote in an attempt to take my mind off the wait. oh i wish i knew, i wish i knew…

taking a micro break from endless translations on drugs and medical tests on mice and rats and monkeys and dogs. i have no time to sleep, no time to eat, no time to grieve… but time must be made for some beauty, at least, in the form of mr. e.e. cummings.

)when what hugs stopping earth than silent is

)when what hugs stopping earth than silent is
more silent than more than much more is or
total sun oceaning than any this
tear jumping from each most least eye of star

and without was if minus and shall be
immeasurable happenless unnow
shuts more than open could that every tree
or than all life more death begins to grow

end’s ending then these dolls of joy and grief
these recent memories of future dream
these perhaps who have lost their shadows if
which did not do the losing spectres mime

until out of merely not nothing comes
only one snowflake(and we speak our names

i have a new year resolution. i am going to talk less and think more. sounds like a good idea, and not as impossible as something like… say… not putting things off till tomorrow. or quitting coffee.

my right shoulder aches, so, in my usual irrelevant manner, i shall leave you with some random words. i’m not pretending to be poetic. it’s like having a themeless christmas tree; these random words are simply random adornments for my random thoughts. but then again, if anyone could make a poem out of these words, i reckon it will be both weird and wonderful.

—–ethereal—–shadows—–pomegranate—–luscious—–banter—–

—–immortal—–centaur—–billowing—–facetious—–

—–lacklustre—–elf—–testimony—–impudent—–gallivant