Tag Archives: mad men

Mayakovsky.

1
My heart’s aflutter!
I am standing in the bath tub
crying. Mother, mother
who am I? If he
will just come back once
and kiss me on the face
his coarse hair brush
my temple, it’s throbbing!

then I can put on my clothes
I guess, and walk the streets.

2
I love you. I love you,
but I’m turning to my verses
and my heart is closing
like a fist.

Words! be
sick as I am sick, swoon,
roll back your eyes, a pool,

and I’ll stare down
at my wounded beauty
which at best is only a talent
for poetry.

Cannot please, cannot charm or win
what a poet!
and the clear water is thick

with bloody blows on its head.
I embraced a cloud,
but when I soared
it rained.

3
That’s funny! there’s blood on my chest
oh yes, I’ve been carrying bricks
what a funny place to rupture!
and now it is raining on the ailanthus
as I step out onto the window ledge
the tracks below me are smoky and
glistening with a passion for running
I leap into the leaves, green like the sea

4
Now I am quietly waiting for
the catastrophe of my personality
to seem beautiful again,
and interesting, and modern.

The country is grey and
brown and white in trees,
snows and skies of laughter
always diminishing, less funny
not just darker, not just grey.

It may be the coldest day of
the year, what does he think of
that? I mean, what do I? And if I do,
perhaps I am myself again.

1 Comment

Filed under Poetry

Nostalgia.

“Teddy told me that in Greek, nostalgia literally means the pain from an old wound. It’s a twinge in your heart, far more powerful than memory alone. This device isn’t a space ship, it’s a time machine. It goes backwards, forwards. It takes us to a place where we ache to go again. It’s not called a wheel, it’s called a carousel. It lets us travel the way a child travels. Round and a round, and back home again. To a place where we know we are loved.”

I think this will just be a Mad Men appreciation post. I’ve almost finished the first season, and I can safely say I already love the show an awful lot.

Credit goes to James Minchin III for Rolling Stone for the following photos, and the lyrics are from “The Wind” by Cat Stevens – for some reason, it invokes a kind of nostalgia within me.

I listen to the wind
to the wind of my soul
Where I’ll end up well I think,
only God really knows

I’ve sat upon the setting sun 
But never, never never never 
I never wanted water once 
No, never, never, never

I listen to my words but 
they fall far below 
I let my music take me where 
my heart wants to go 

I swam upon the devil’s lake 
But never, never never never 
I’ll never make the same mistake 
No, never, never, never 

Leave a comment

Filed under Life, Music, Television