truth is, i haven’t felt much like doing anything as of late. then i beat myself up over not creating or not doing the things i need to do. it’s a vicious cycle. i’ve been reading and i got to make trips with my 3 youngest kids to visit my parents and then all the kids to my unofficial hometown. then i spent time with some amazing people in Austin.
i really want to write more, but honestly, i don’t feel like it. i know that’s not an excuse, but i don’t.
so in lieu of my own writing, i’ll post one of my favorite poems.
Funeral Blues by W. H. Auden
Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.
Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crêpe bows round the white necks of the public
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.
He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My working week and my Sunday rest,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last for ever: I was wrong.
The stars are not wanted now: put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood.
For nothing now can ever come to any good.