A few lines from Ode on Intimations of Immortality from Recollections of Early Childhood
by William Wordsworth
What though the radiance which was once so bright
Be now for ever taken from my sight,
Though nothing can bring back the hour
Of splendour in the grass, of glory in the flower;
We will grieve not, rather find
Strength in what remains behind;
In the primal sympathy
Which having been must ever be;
In the soothing thoughts that spring
Out of human suffering;
nobody talks or writes like that anymore. nobody is as romantic. people gave up on being creative a long time ago. is it because they ran out of material? like how promises never mean anything anymore, like how much you can't expect people to honor their word.
and as for love.
what happened to courtship, poetry, letter giving, holding hands? to waiting?
when did couples start giving up, and how is it that marriage is no longer a binding contract? is there a free pass to everything. and commitment or loyalty is just another fictitious word.
somewhere along the road people thought it's okay to give up when things start to become difficult.
I think I would like travel back to the time when people were still people. when everything mattered, when chivalry was still alive, i'm all for equal rights, but a man should still be the man, and all that damsel in distress saving never gets old, not to me.
i just expect too much.
double standards.
too much disney films growing up.
good morning philippines. good morning reality.
as they say no man is happy without a delusion of some kind. delusions are as necessary to our happiness as realities.
yes, i am talking about how relationships end.
i am gonna be very cautious now.
compared to my grandparent's time, finding true love is harder these days.
the funny thing is i still believe.
cause I will never forget how my lolo used to sing No Other Love to my lola.
I grew up believing and witnessing the ups and downs of marriage.
They never broke up, they never remarried, annulment was mythical dragon in our family.
everyone knew about it, but no one was defeated by it.
53 years lolo, 53 years lola. 53 years of being together.
No Other Love, Forever yours
till death did you part.
and as for love.
what happened to courtship, poetry, letter giving, holding hands? to waiting?
when did couples start giving up, and how is it that marriage is no longer a binding contract? is there a free pass to everything. and commitment or loyalty is just another fictitious word.
somewhere along the road people thought it's okay to give up when things start to become difficult.
I think I would like travel back to the time when people were still people. when everything mattered, when chivalry was still alive, i'm all for equal rights, but a man should still be the man, and all that damsel in distress saving never gets old, not to me.
i just expect too much.
double standards.
too much disney films growing up.
good morning philippines. good morning reality.
as they say no man is happy without a delusion of some kind. delusions are as necessary to our happiness as realities.
yes, i am talking about how relationships end.
i am gonna be very cautious now.
compared to my grandparent's time, finding true love is harder these days.
the funny thing is i still believe.
cause I will never forget how my lolo used to sing No Other Love to my lola.
I grew up believing and witnessing the ups and downs of marriage.
They never broke up, they never remarried, annulment was mythical dragon in our family.
everyone knew about it, but no one was defeated by it.
53 years lolo, 53 years lola. 53 years of being together.
No Other Love, Forever yours
till death did you part.
3 comments:
poets are not a dying breed,
but inspiration sure is scarce
in a time of despair, and shredded hearts and: un-loving wives
the ink of passion will dry out with the quill
and rivers of tears will never be still
and still
i write this for you. you. my poetry-frame-of-mind
the muse of my abuse
you're the wick
that relights my storm blown candle
and I am your romantic
let me ask you this:
how long will you be a romantic?
as i have experienced; phases expire.
and ideals dull, feeling fade.
you either set the bar too high or too low.
as soon as you become a lover you also become a liar.
it goes hand in hand.
true, nothing lasts forever,
but i find it amusing, dear amusing muse,
that you are like a child who counts the turns of her carousel ride
not wanting it to end.
Like the pretty fireworks that fade after a few seconds
you stare at the sky and wait for this to fade.
and yet you call me a liar because you stare at these lovely colors with such wonderment. Not wanting them to fade.
We are not lovers, my amusing muse.and we will never be.
and this garland of words that i surround you with
will never wilt.
My dear child with child, I am not your lover.
But I love you.
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