There is a production of A Passage To India, adapted from EM Forster's novel (he was on the sub continent in 1912), on at The Playhouse. So I went to see it with my mum and my gran. My Grannie was 84 yesterday.
The story surrounds a tentative engagement but the wider plot focuses on collonialism. I love Forsters impartiality with his pen. It's so incisive and poetic.
!!! EDWARD SAID IS DEAD.!!!
And here's another poem
A Words Worth
Serene
and severe;
it is so mundane
here: the pavement,
that points a golden blue
vector at your mothers chin,
and holds her by the bottom of her shoes.
We never thank him for holding her tight.
- began to write that as soon as i woke up this morning when I was trying to fashion another few verses for something longer that i've started. me needs foods now i feel like my eyes are set four inches inside my head and two outside at the same time. I've been here for three hours minus a shower and since I tried to post that poem in the ws'd at about 12:10 (five hours ahead of the east coast, USA) SG has been inaccessable inexplicably to me and my puta, as were other sites. I doesn't do your eyesight any good to read the paper in front of your monitor, does it?
Thankyou everyone who wrote in my journal yesterday. The poem is totally for you (new friend included). Unfortunately I don't like it. It makes me feel even more isolated. I'm only happy with it because it looks like a set of steps and I really love my grandmother. It's about my mum though.
The story surrounds a tentative engagement but the wider plot focuses on collonialism. I love Forsters impartiality with his pen. It's so incisive and poetic.
!!! EDWARD SAID IS DEAD.!!!
And here's another poem
A Words Worth
Serene
and severe;
it is so mundane
here: the pavement,
that points a golden blue
vector at your mothers chin,
and holds her by the bottom of her shoes.
We never thank him for holding her tight.
- began to write that as soon as i woke up this morning when I was trying to fashion another few verses for something longer that i've started. me needs foods now i feel like my eyes are set four inches inside my head and two outside at the same time. I've been here for three hours minus a shower and since I tried to post that poem in the ws'd at about 12:10 (five hours ahead of the east coast, USA) SG has been inaccessable inexplicably to me and my puta, as were other sites. I doesn't do your eyesight any good to read the paper in front of your monitor, does it?
Thankyou everyone who wrote in my journal yesterday. The poem is totally for you (new friend included). Unfortunately I don't like it. It makes me feel even more isolated. I'm only happy with it because it looks like a set of steps and I really love my grandmother. It's about my mum though.
VIEW 9 of 9 COMMENTS
its_weaselle:
hey new friend 
fringes:
Did it ever make it to production? Did you know that in either the Seik or Hindu religion[?] your rewarded with 'passing through the gates of heaven' if you havent stepped on any toes. But are >punished< with a return trip back to earth if youve sinned.