sometimes when my brain is congested, it coughs, and words come out.

sunpixels:


a photograph of an old poetry book.
the poem is “On the Sea”by John Keats. 
..
It keeps eternal whisperings aroundDesolate shores, and with its mighty swellGluts twice ten thousand caverns, till the spellOf Hecate leaves them their old shadowy sound.Often ‘tis in such gentle temper found,That scarcely will the very smallest shellBe moved for days from where it sometime fell,When last the winds of heaven were unbound.O ye! who have your eyeballs vexed and tired,Feast them upon the wideness of the Sea;O ye! whose ears are dinn’d with uproar rude,Or fed too much with cloying melody, —Sit ye near some old cavern’s mouth, and broodUntil ye start, as if the sea-nymphs quired!


a photograph i took, and Keats.

sunpixels:

a photograph of an old poetry book.

the poem is “On the Sea”
by John Keats. 

..

It keeps eternal whisperings around
Desolate shores, and with its mighty swell
Gluts twice ten thousand caverns, till the spell
Of Hecate leaves them their old shadowy sound.
Often ‘tis in such gentle temper found,
That scarcely will the very smallest shell
Be moved for days from where it sometime fell,
When last the winds of heaven were unbound.
O ye! who have your eyeballs vexed and tired,
Feast them upon the wideness of the Sea;
O ye! whose ears are dinn’d with uproar rude,
Or fed too much with cloying melody, —
Sit ye near some old cavern’s mouth, and brood
Until ye start, as if the sea-nymphs quired!

a photograph i took, and Keats.

  • 7 August 2012
  • 126