{"id":849,"date":"2013-04-20T18:35:01","date_gmt":"2013-04-20T16:35:01","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/?page_id=849"},"modified":"2013-05-03T02:23:55","modified_gmt":"2013-05-03T00:23:55","slug":"21-x-my-heart","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/teksty\/teksty-oryginalne\/teksty-ph-solo\/21-x-my-heart\/","title":{"rendered":"21. X my Heart"},"content":{"rendered":"

<\/a>
\nA Better Time<\/strong> \"Przek\u0142ad\"<\/a><\/p>\n

As surely as the countdown begins our time is not our own;
\nalready there’s the breath of the wind which bleaches bare the bones
\nof the deadlines we set, of the jokes we don’t get
\nand forgetfulness that furrows the brow…
\nno, I’ll never find a better time
\nto be alive than now.<\/p>\n

So I wake up, to remainder the dream
\nof personality and posture and face
\nfor nothing can remain as it seems
\nin some perfect state of pure grace….
\nall we prize and protect only cause and effect
\nbut I suspect the furrow may be guiding the plough
\nand I’ll never find a better time
\nto be alive than now.<\/p>\n

No better, no worse, much the same,
\nwe wait on the why and the when;
\nno question but we’ll go as we came
\nwith no shift in the shape of the zen
\nand it is as it is and we take as we find
\nalways next season’s buds on the bough…
\nbut I’ll never find a better time,
\nhard though it is to allow.
\nI’ll never find a better time
\nto be alive than now.<\/p>\n

This is the life and we’ve only time
\nto be alive right now.<\/p>\n

<\/a>
\nAmnesiac<\/strong> \"Przek\u0142ad\"<\/a><\/p>\n

I can’t think of anything I did or was doing,
\nI can’t seem to get a hold on what’s come to pass,
\nhere with half a mind on something else
\nand half a finger in the glass,
\nsince you ask.<\/p>\n

I can’t think of anywhere I’d rather be going:
\nin the end every journey’s only pawing the ground
\nand I’ve half a mind just to jack it in,
\nbut for this torn-off ticket stub I just found.
\nSince you ask about the shape I’m in
\nI’ll try my best to pull myself around.<\/p>\n

Amnesiac if you say it’s so;
\namnesiac what happened long ago?
\nOh, now I just don’t know.<\/p>\n

I can’t think of anyone that I’d rather be with
\nbut I don’t know why you should want to stick here with me
\nwhen I can’t even find what was on my mind
\nfor all the holes punched in my memory:
\nit’s a wasteland, and I’m terrified
\nto admit, to let go, to accept I don’t know,
\nall those blanks won’t be filled,
\nI’ll be found by the chill of the glacier run
\nof what I might have done….
\nSince you last asked about the state I’m in
\nit seems I’ve lost all grip on where I’m coming from….<\/p>\n

Amnesiac does it so plainly show?
\nAmnesiac as if I didn’t know,
\nAmnesiac oh say it isn’t so….<\/p>\n

Amnesiac,
\namnesiac,
\namnesiac,
\nblack-out, K.O.<\/p>\n

<\/a>
\nRam Origami<\/strong> \"Przek\u0142ad\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Here’s the lost boy with the brittle smile,
\nplastered panstick on his face,
\nmaking himself up; for a little while
\nall the fragments will remain in place.
\nWe are only what we manage to retrieve
\nout of memory
\n(Who do you think you are?)<\/p>\n

Inside, it’s hailstorm visibility
\ntransformed by outer confidence and charm:
\nstep up to take responsibility,
\nstep down to keep the pieces of identity calm
\nand the moment we believe that we got it all in place
\nis the very moment when the cup overflows,
\nout of memory.<\/p>\n

(Who do you think you are?
\nWhere did you say you’d been?
\nWhat did you think you were?
\nHow did it seem?
\nHow does it seem?)<\/p>\n

There goes the who, the what, the why and wherefore
\nall folded up in origami stuff:
\npeople and places we once cared for…
\nwe remember, but not vividly enough
\nand it’s all blank paper when we finally open up
\nwith not even watermarks as messages to trace
\nonly folds in the floe of the frozen face
\nout of memory.<\/p>\n

<\/a>
\nA Forest Of Pronouns\u00a0<\/strong> \"Przek\u0142ad\"<\/a><\/p>\n

Yes, questions
\ncoming up on the autocue
\nand I’m open to suggestion
\nbut can I say the same for you?
\nSo lost in the forest of pronouns
\nthat I can’t see the wood for the trees….
\nGot to face up to the showdown
\nbetween you, me and him, which is we?<\/p>\n

Strange language fills my head:
\n(It isn’t written, you can take it as read
\nif you dare to believe it
\nthe buts stop where the arrow’s sped,
\nthis is the main chance,
\ntake it or leave it.)
\nIt isn’t written but still I take it as read.<\/p>\n

I heard the grass growing under my feet –
\noh, princess, what might have been?
\nOnce your kisses were so bittersweet
\nthat I got caught in the in-between.<\/p>\n

Strange voices came and went
\n(It isn’t certain, but it’s 90%, yeah, you’d better believe it.
\nThe buck stops when the arrow’s spent, this is the get-out,
\ntake it or leave it.)
\nIf I’m uncertain still I leave it unsaid.<\/p>\n

I can’t take it, can’t leave it.<\/p>\n

Yes, questions – though responses remain unsure;
\nstill I stay open for suggestions – for this there’s no simple cure.
\nAnd I got lost in the forest of pronouns
\nso I can’t see the wood for the trees.<\/p>\n

Strange language floods my head…
\n(It isn’t certain, but it’s 90%, yeah, you’d better believe it.
\nThe butts stop where the arrow’s sped, this is the get-out,
\ntake it or leave it.)
\nIt isn’t written…do I take it as read?<\/p>\n

I can’t take it, can’t leave it.<\/p>\n

<\/a>
\nEarthbound<\/strong><\/p>\n

My heart flew in my mouth
\nthe moment that your eyes locked mine.
\nI blurted something out
\nalong these lines:
\nwe’re earthbound
\nbut we all long for flight…<\/p>\n

My heart’s worn on my sleeve:
\nI’d offer all I could contrive
\nif only you’d believe
\nyou flood my mind.
\nWe’re earthbound
\nbut you spring my heart alive.<\/p>\n

My heart’s stopped in its tracks –
\nwhat train of thought has just arrived
\nwhile gravity’s cruel tax
\ndrags me to ground?
\nWe’re earthbound
\nbut you spring my heart to life.
\nWe spin around,
\nwe’re earthbound
\nbut you spring me free to flight.<\/p>\n

Eathbound,
\nwe’re earthbound,
\nall earthbound…
\nbut we all long for flight.<\/p>\n

Heartbreak the anagram:
\n(But hero Dan had no brute boar hunted;
\ndoubt he ran but heard no burned oath;
\nundo breath, do burn hate, be hard unto
\nburned oath, undo breath…)<\/p>\n

Earthbound.<\/p>\n

<\/a>
\nNarcissus (Bar & Grill)<\/strong><\/p>\n

It’s a private club, so exclusive that the membership is one;
\nyou can walk right in, can be sure your face is always welcome here.
\nDrink up your fill: this is the Narcissus bar & grill
\nso you can do what you will to reveal who you are.<\/p>\n

You can settle down, select your entertainment –
\non reflection you’ll be there in every surface;
\nyou can take your time, there’s no need to have a reservation here.
\nDrink up your fill in the Narcissus bar & grill.
\nSweet daffodil, what a fascination you are.
\nOoh, what a thrill: you can be your own lucky star.<\/p>\n

Falling in love with your reflection,
\nI guess you’ve found your blind spot.
\n(Don’t fall in love with your reflection,
\nno heart could handle the rejection:
\nyou’re going to dive deep into the well.)
\nYou had a name once but it seems that now you’ve lost it,
\nyou had a name but you’ve forgotten it now.<\/p>\n

Classic lessons to be learned, just a word of caution,
\nself-absorption doesn’t guarantee respect:
\nwhat you’ll get you’ll earn…eye on the main chance,
\nthis is not what you desire or expect,
\ndrowning in the watering-hole….
\nand don’t imagine that you’re one of the elect
\nPay up your bill: in the Narcissus bar & grill
\nthere’s time left to kill, better start to see who you are.
\nThink good or ill of the Narcissus bar & grill
\nit’s all grist to the mill, it’s all kissing that scars.
\nGo on and drink up your fill,
\ndo what you will, it won’t reveal what you are.
\nDrink up your fill, it’s time to pay up your bill.<\/p>\n

Falling in love with your reflection,
\nI guess you’ve found your blind spot:
\nyou’re going to dive deep into the well.
\n(Don’t fall in love with your reflection,
\nno heart could handle the rejection:
\nof getting lost in introspection….)
\nYou had a name once but it seems that you forgot it;
\nyou had a name but it seems that now you’ve lost it;
\nyou had a name but, baby, you’ve not got it now.<\/p>\n

<\/a>
\nMaterial Possession<\/strong><\/p>\n

Every loss a legacy
\nevery gain ill-gotten,
\nthe golden apples on the tree are all potentially rotten.
\nPluck the fruit and bear no mind,
\nso the poisonous bloom advances –
\nthe hand that clasps too tight will never grasp its chances.<\/p>\n

All the things that you’ve got will not be worth a lot
\nif the owning becomes an obsession
\nmeaning nothing more than mere material possession.<\/p>\n

Broken, lost, the precious thing,
\ndoes that make your life so empty?
\nstars shine alike upon the ditch and on the land of Plenty.
\nThe thing that’s gone was always going to be gone,
\nwhat’s left is some remembered pleasure –
\nonly their loss confirms the things we ever learned to treasure.<\/p>\n

And the things that you claim are only ever yours in name –
\ndo you think that they’ll leave an impression?
\nOnly flesh and bone are the true material possessions.<\/p>\n

Your lighter’s worth a watch, your watch would buy a car,
\nyour car is worth a house with rooms to rattle round in.
\nTry to make the house a home that’s yours and yours alone:
\nyou dredge a lake of dreams to fill with tears and drown in.
\nNow the flame will soon be dowsed and time is running out,
\nthe wheel will turn full circle, then we’ll all be foundlings.<\/p>\n

And all the things that we own are never ours alone,
\nno, they just pass through our hands in succession –
\nshake the spirit, shake the blood, shake the flesh and shake the bone
\nshake free from material possession.<\/p>\n

Every loss is treasure trove, every gain is faded,
\nevery taste and every touch will finally be jaded.
\nWhen in the end all life is spent
\nwhat we bought was mere digression:
\nthe price we pay shaking free from material possession.<\/p>\n

<\/a>
\nCome Clean<\/strong><\/p>\n

There’s no getting back to how it started
\nand the next few pages are uncharted,
\nthere’s no secret passage, no speedy getaway –
\nwhat do you say now?
\nWe could talk about this in a calmer state
\nbut if we wait it won’t get any easier.
\nSo we’re damned if we do and damned if we don’t,
\nwe can’t deny what each action means:
\ncome clean.<\/p>\n

Everything you’ve done is carried with you
\nand no-one’s ever going to forgive you
\nif you won’t come to terms with where and who you’ve been:
\nlook at the screen now.
\nStir up the ghosts of your own forgetfulness,
\ndon’t pack up your troubles in the sleeping bag.
\nDon’t ignore what you saw but believe how it seems,
\nyou can try to make a brand new start.
\nWe can only do our best, with an open heart
\ncome clean,
\nwipe the slate clean,
\ncome clean.<\/p>\n

The slate’s clean but there’s something that you never forget,
\nthough it’s hidden in your most secret place
\nit’s still written in the memories that you’ve buried – worse yet
\nit’s restructured in the lines of your face…come clean.<\/p>\n

No spooling on to how it’s ending
\nand the next few pages are mindbending:
\nthe territory’s minefield and the needle’s in the red.
\nLet’s put it to bed now,
\ncook up a cover story for our given lots,
\nbe do or damned, stand by the forget-me-not.
\nthere’ll be no blame for the stain that a lived-in life leaves,
\nno shame in what might have been.
\nWe can only do our best but our lives’ll never be pristine –
\ncome clean, the slate’s clean, come clean.<\/p>\n

Maybe what I mean’s this is as clean as it ever gets…..<\/p>\n

\"Przewi\u0144<\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

A Better Time As surely as the countdown begins our time is not our own; already there’s the breath of the wind which bleaches bare the bones of the deadlines we set, of the jokes we don’t get and forgetfulness … Czytaj dalej →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":659,"parent":519,"menu_order":21,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"sidebar-page.php","meta":{"_sitemap_exclude":false,"_sitemap_priority":"","_sitemap_frequency":"","footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-849","page","type-page","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/849","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/types\/page"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/comments?post=849"}],"version-history":[{"count":6,"href":"https:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/849\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":851,"href":"https:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/849\/revisions\/851"}],"up":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/519"}],"wp:featuredmedia":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media\/659"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/media?parent=849"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}