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Array
(
[sid] => 131838
[catid] => 1
[aid] => mick
[title] => Private Library
[time] => 2007-02-17 09:57:11
[hometext] => Inspired by a quote from Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami
[bodytext] => 'Every one of us is losing something precious to us… But inside our heads – at least that’s where I imagine it – there’s a little room where we store those memories. A room like the stacks in this library. And to understand the workings of our heart we have to keep making new reference cards… In other words you’ll live forever in your own private library.' from Kafka on the Shore by Haruki Murakami Something of this library is familiar, The organised disarray and open blinds That let in streamers of the day. All the mugs are on coasters Keeping the dregs of cocoa and Earl Grey. But mostly there are glasses Waiting patiently for sustenance beside Cool, clear pitchers of water. Even the leather-bound books are familiar, Although they have no authors. Stacks of anthologies, quotations and ideas, Only ideas, For novels. Boxes pile up in the corner In various states of unpacking. They are being re-filed, updated and cross-referenced Constantly, near the vase of Arum lilies. The aisle of journals is nothing Considering the shiny cabinets waiting to be filled That stretch on infinitely, far out of this room. Back past the oldest cabinets a locked door Glitters invitingly – I have only grazed the tip of the iceberg. No other hand has wiped dust from these books, Has lifted these mugs, Has opened these windows. No other eyes have seen the pages Of the book on the central table Write themselves, Word by word Into a mirror. [comments] => 2 [counter] => 213 [topic] => 73 [informant] => Dom [notes] => [ihome] => 0 [alanguage] => english [acomm] => 0 [haspoll] => 0 [pollID] => 0 [score] => 10 [ratings] => 2 [editpoem] => 1 [associated] => [topicname] => abstract )
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