microscopic muses

Those little blue flowers  Remind me of you Forget you nots

  You’re waiting for love, but love has already found you Because all the time you’ve been waiting  for love to notice you; you haven’t noticed love watching and waiting  for you to open your eyes and see *and breathe *

  Even after the crying had ceased;  you still managed to hold on to the tears

  How can you be heard crying When your tears are silent How can someone know your pain’s loneliness  When you camouflage it with smiles If only your tears weren’t silent, then you could be heard crying  and your pain’s loneliness known; behind those camouflage smiles 

  I build walls around myself   You find ways to knock them down Demolishing barriers *in-between us*

  More than hearing an echo I felt  such Then , I found you * (self) love*

  Walk the path I once walked Breathe the air I couldn't breathe  and kiss someone; like I never dared to kiss *you*

  Unseen bruises hurt the hardest Unheard melodies are the loudest And unfulfilled dreams are nightmares *spent without you *

  Not wanting anyone near Your eyes try to hide Self preservation; from harm

  Subscribe The Guardian - Back to home The Guardian: news website of the year News Opinion Sport Culture Lifestyle Show caption Biography books Super-Infinite by Katherine Rundell review – a deft portrait of John Donne Rundell captures John Donne’s unique vision in all its power, eloquence and strangeness Lara Feigel Thu 28 Apr 2022 06.00 EDT Share on Facebook Share on Twitter Share via Email In 1611,  John Donne  composed a funeral elegy for 14-year-old Elizabeth Drury. It contained one of his most brilliant, unsettling lines: “One might almost say, her body thought.” Donne portrayed body and soul as radically, delightfully commingled. This is a poem that has long excited Donne commentators. John Carey, in his landmark 1981 Life, Mind and Art ,  was fascinated by Donne’s conviction that, as he wrote in a sermon, “all that the soul does, it does in, and with, and by the body”. Now the academic and children’s writer Katherine Rundell puts the poem centre stage in a b...