Sunday, November 13, 2011

Wilde at Heart

You, Mr. Wilde...

Literally imprisoned for following the desires of the heart and body. His brilliance resonates and rings true to the souls of those held under the thumb of convention and social expectation.

Your pen or quill or whatever... a weapon indeed.

Oh Oscar, I am silenced, bitterly silenced, by emotions overwhelming. No place else to turn but to the words of poets past, reading prose like biblical canons. Salvation in the confessions of a heart drunk on forlorn circumstance. Again, I am not alone.

Genuflect before the Picture of Dorian Gray. Through you, I learn The Importance of Being Earnest.

Perhaps my life is a lesson to a young man or an older woman 100 years from now. Perhaps the cross I bear will make it easier for the next person to carry their own knowing they aren't carrying it alone.

Big Picture.

Thank you, Oscar. I do adore you.

Silentium Amoris

by Oscar Wilde

As often-times the too resplendent sun
Hurries the pallid and reluctant moon
Back to her sombre cave, ere she hath won
A single ballad from the nightingale,
So doth thy Beauty make my lips to fail,
And all my sweetest singing out of tune.

And as at dawn across the level mead
On wings impetuous some wind will come,
And with its too harsh kisses break the reed
Which was its only instrument of song,
So my too stormy passions work me wrong,
And for excess of Love my Love is dumb.

But surely unto Thee mine eyes did show
Why I am silent, and my lute unstrung;
Else it were better we should part, and go,
Thou to some lips of sweeter melody,
And I to nurse the barren memory
Of unkissed kisses, and songs never sung.

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