{"id":903,"date":"2013-04-21T02:40:38","date_gmt":"2013-04-21T00:40:38","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/?page_id=903"},"modified":"2013-05-03T02:32:32","modified_gmt":"2013-05-03T00:32:32","slug":"31-consequences","status":"publish","type":"page","link":"https:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/teksty\/teksty-oryginalne\/teksty-ph-solo\/31-consequences\/","title":{"rendered":"31. Consequences"},"content":{"rendered":"

<\/a>
\nEat my Words, Bite my Tongue<\/strong><\/p>\n

Best to say nothing at all,
\nno shot from the hip;
\nyou might say something appalling,
\na confidence tripped off the tongue.
\nBetter to keep the mouth zipped,
\nyour silence preserved.
\nGo through the night with your lips sealed,
\nfor truth is best served by discretion.
\nBest to refrain,
\ndon’t excuse or explain,
\nno, engage that dull brain
\nbefore speaking.<\/p>\n

I should have listened, for once, to my own advice,
\nI should have paid attention.
\nI was so eager to have my say,
\nI fell in love with the sound of my own damn voice.<\/p>\n

I never thought how offensive the line might seem
\nif taken out of context.
\nMy best intentions all fall away
\nand it’s no laughing matter,
\nnow I can’t pack that jabberwock back in the box.<\/p>\n

No way to take back the hasty phrase,
\nno chance to unspeak the sentence
\nthat hangs in the air,
\nheld up by the jaw-dropped silence.<\/p>\n

I know you’re going to walk away.
\nAlthough I make my retraction
\nit can’t be unsaid
\nand my foot’s in my mouth for good.<\/p>\n

Clearly I’d eat my words
\nwhen all is said and done.
\nBy now you’d think I might have learned
\nto bite my tongue.<\/p>\n

<\/a>
\nThat Wasn’t What I Said<\/strong><\/p>\n

The way this narrative’s unfolding
\nI’ve got in way above my head,
\nsense I’m about to be held to account for
\nsome things I never did, some words I never said.<\/p>\n

I can tell you’re keen to hold my attention
\nthough my concentration’s starting to fade
\nas you set out your stall and say that you’re ready
\nto wait for the pay-out on promises I never made.<\/p>\n

Don’t know where this is going,
\nI don’t know if we’re speeding up or slowing down.
\nYou haven’t read the questions,
\nI haven’t got the answers now,
\nit looks as though we’ve run aground.<\/p>\n

Better bring it on, get the motor running;
\nsurely we don’t belong, but let’s pretend anyway.
\nSo the story’s gone wrong no-one saw it coming –
\nmoving along will we be moving away
\nto another life where we might not be strangers?
\nMight be husband and wife, might find our future assured?
\nTime and tide that’s enticed, none of that could change us.
\nOh but you don’t think twice, just make up what’s gone before.<\/p>\n

I don’t know where that came from,
\na strange imagination’s got
\na stranglehold on you.
\nYou talk as if you know me:
\nin reality you haven’t got
\nthe faintest clue.<\/p>\n

And now this narrative’s exploding,
\nthrough a merry dance your fantasies have sped.
\nStill you say my words are in your heart forever:
\n„I’ll always love you….”.<\/p>\n

That wasn’t what I said.<\/p>\n

<\/a>
\nConstantly Overheard<\/strong><\/p>\n

You can repeat it as often as you like,
\nthe story won’t ring true.
\nYou’ve been inventing a cocktail of confections
\nno-one believes but you.
\nContradictory fictions together form a track:
\nonce the words have been spoken they’re out
\nand you can’t take them back.<\/p>\n

Opinions you’ve ventured adrift upon the wind,
\nno council is kept your own,
\nAs quiet as you whisper your thoughts can’t be preserved
\nfor one person’s ears alone.
\nThere’s always an eavesdropping multitude in on your words.
\nYou always were
\noverheard.<\/p>\n

Nothing’s secret now,
\nnothing’s safe and sound,
\nnothing’s private.<\/p>\n

You didn’t mean it to come out as it did
\nbut the narrative still escaped.
\nBenign indiscretions and confidences spilled,
\nthey’ve got them all down on tape
\nand sooner or later they’ll hold you to account.<\/p>\n

I hear you’ve been spouting
\nall kinds of poppycock
\nto any prepared to hear.
\nBetter be careful,
\ndon’t speak so loud or so clear.<\/p>\n

Remember whatever you say can’t be unsaid,
\nnot once it’s tripped off the tongue.
\nA flippant aside might in later light be taken
\nas proof of a smoking gun.
\nAnd so here’s a maxim for life you’d do well to observe –
\nchoose your words
\nas if you were constantly overheard.<\/p>\n

<\/a>
\nNew Pen-pal<\/strong><\/p>\n

She wants to be your new pen-pal,
\nwants to regale you with some confidences.
\nYou might consider there’ll be consequences to address
\n        when all the fences break down.<\/p>\n

She wants to be your new neighbour,
\nshe doesn’t care much about conventional boundaries
\nand personal space is just a piece of ground
\n        she’s ready to break.
\n        She’s aching to take you on now.<\/p>\n

She’s closing in,
\nshe’s homing in,
\nshe’s on a mission.<\/p>\n

She wants to be your new girlfriend,
\nwon’t take the answer „no” if you advance it,
\nshe makes her move and yes, she takes her chances
\n        when she can.
\n        Chances are she’s taking you down.<\/p>\n

She’s on a mission.<\/p>\n

She wants to be your new pen-pal.<\/p>\n

<\/a>
\nClose to Me<\/strong><\/p>\n

I got no sense of danger,
\nwhen I met her at first,
\nthough with hindsight’s cold certainty
\nI was always a target.
\nFrom the very start
\nshe’d been training her sights on me.<\/p>\n

I only later discovered
\nto her family and friends
\nshe’d refer to me constantly
\nas if our casual acquaintance
\nwere a bigger thing.
\nBut I’m not part of her history,
\nno I’m not part of the action,
\nI’ve no part in the plot.
\nIn all honesty
\nshe was never that close to me.<\/p>\n

When I heard of the stories
\nshe’d been spreading around,
\nthe malevolent fantasies
\nI broke off any contact,
\nthought that was civilised.
\nHow could I have been so naive?
\nI’ve been dumb and defenceless
\nwhile she’s been dogging my steps
\nhomicidally.<\/p>\n

She got dangerously close you see,
\nshe got dangerously close to me.<\/p>\n

<\/a>
\nAll the Tiredness<\/strong><\/p>\n

All the tiredness that you’ve held in waiting,
\nin abeyance,
\nnow comes rushing in.
\nFloods the bloodstream, burrows in the brainstem,
\ngrinds down bone-deep,
\nthe exhaustion’s stored from way back when.<\/p>\n

All the tiredness you’ve postponed forever,
\nburied treasure,
\nthe price you pay for simply keeping your hand in.<\/p>\n

Hold the darkness back for a moment.
\nHold the darkness back for just as long as you can.<\/p>\n

So, suddenly very slow,
\nsuddenly can’t outrun the undertow.
\nNo, suddenly I don’t know
\nanything but this sense of letting go.
\nLow, down to the ground I go,
\nbeaten down by the years of body blows.
\nThough I made it through the shows
\nsomething got left behind, a debt I owe….<\/p>\n

All the tiredness
\n      held in store
\n      saved up from before
\n      my old friend
\n      mounts up in the end
\n      wears you down in the end
\n      mounts up in the end.<\/p>\n

<\/a>
\nPerfect Pose<\/strong><\/p>\n

Upon Charles Bridge he’s frozen in a gesture,
\nlooks like he’s waiting for a moment to arrive,
\nsome special currency to connect him to the zeitgeist…
\n        snakes alive!
\nHe’s traipsed around the towns, the landmarks of Old Europe,
\nlooking to link between the present and the past
\nand here at last he feels ghosts crowding in around him
\n        for the photograph.<\/p>\n

All that he wants to be
\nan image of mystery;
\na backdrop, a profile, a choice location,
\nfeeding his imagination.<\/p>\n

Instead of memories to hold him in the game
\nhe’d rather wrap time’s frame around him.
\nNo need for memories, they all feel much the same,
\n      he’d rather stay in character.<\/p>\n

A centre spread in a paper,
\nan unpicked thread in a magazine.<\/p>\n

He’s lost himself in being here so often.
\nThough life’s got harder as the focus softened.
\nhe’s made his only purpose the pursuit
\nof posing for the perfect photograph.
\nOut of shot the light’s bleeding
\nand time comes apart at the seams.<\/p>\n

He’ll disappear, it’s nearly time,
\nthe shutter’s opening.<\/p>\n

And now exposure’s come,
\nchiaroscuro
\nand he’s all transparency in the aperture,
\ngone to the ghosts.
\nThey’ll hold him close,
\nmetamorphosed
\nin the perfect pose.<\/p>\n

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

A figure by the traffic lights,
\nface washed out in the rain,
\nshe’s here once more to make her nightly
\nstand for love and pain.<\/p>\n

Her story written on her face
\nreading between the lines;
\nstill private in this public place
\nshe’s carefully designed
\nher open secret.<\/p>\n

Reliant on their charity
\nto feed and clothe her kids
\nshe holds a card out to the drivers,
\nbehind it safely hidden
\nher little sceret,
\nfor their eyes alone.<\/p>\n

And she only needs a moment of weakness,
\nwindow wound down just a crack,
\nand she’ll explode with all that pent-up stuff inside her
\nand attack
\nwith her scissors,
\nsecret scissors,
\nsharpened scissors.<\/p>\n

<\/a>
\nBravest Face<\/strong><\/p>\n

Here’s the edge,
\nthis is the moment
\nwhen all the fear floods in apace.
\nTime to clear my head,
\nmy demeanour emboldened,
\nof trepidation betray no trace.
\nTime to put on my bravest face.<\/p>\n

Quite the nine-stone weakling,
\nwho am I trying to kid
\nthat I can carry all before me
\nas my heroes did?<\/p>\n

Unafraid, oh what I’d give
\nto walk the walk with my head held high,
\nto stare down my demons.
\nBut sadly I’m not remotely like
\nthat kind of guy.<\/p>\n

Bluster and bravado, every human power,
\nI summon up what strength I have
\nto face what cows me down.<\/p>\n

Now’s the hour.<\/p>\n

Frozen in the spotlight,
\nfrightfully exposed
\nin my sad efforts to sustain
\na heroic pose.<\/p>\n

Though I’m scared as hell
\nstill I know it’s only natural
\nto feel so vulnerable and alone:
\nin extremis we’re on our own.
\nIt’s time to take my place
\nand hold my head up,
\ntime to wear with grace
\nmy bravest face.<\/p>\n

<\/a>
\nA Run of Luck<\/strong><\/p>\n

Disconnect,
\nthis circuit’s broken,
\nthe juice is drained,
\nthe body weak and the head is bowed.
\nI suspect
\nwhat stays unspoken
\nwill prove to be a truer word
\nthan any we shout out loud,
\nchests puffed up proud.
\nOh, life’s so cheap that there’s no doubt
\nyou’ll be in too deep when your luck runs out,
\nwhen you run aground, when you’re done.<\/p>\n

Pay the debts,
\nplay the position,
\njust don’t pretend
\nthat you’ve not known all of this before.
\nMisplaced bets,
\ndistressed conditions combine.
\nWhen time runs out
\nwe know we can’t ask for any more.
\nThis much is sure:
\nthat life’s still great though the wick’s burned up.<\/p>\n

You can only wait till your luck turns up.
\nStill you’re spun around
\nuntil you’re done.<\/p>\n

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

Eat my Words, Bite my Tongue Best to say nothing at all, no shot from the hip; you might say something appalling, a confidence tripped off the tongue. Better to keep the mouth zipped, your silence preserved. Go through the … Czytaj dalej →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":659,"parent":519,"menu_order":31,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","template":"sidebar-page.php","meta":{"_sitemap_exclude":false,"_sitemap_priority":"","_sitemap_frequency":"","footnotes":""},"class_list":["post-903","page","type-page","status-publish","has-post-thumbnail","hentry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/903","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=903"}],"version-history":[{"count":5,"href":"https:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/903\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":1413,"href":"https:\/\/vdgg.art.pl\/portal\/wp-json\/wp\/v2\/pages\/903\/revisions\/1413"}],"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=903"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}