Friday, February 25, 2005

Image from 'That  Time'That Time title




That time you went back that last time to look was the ruin still there where you hid as a child [Eyes close] grey day took the eleven to the end of the line and on form there no no trams then all gone long ago that time you went back was the ruin still there where you hid as a child that last time not a tram left in the place only the old rails when was that?

When you went in out of the rain always winter then always raining that time in the Portrait Gallery in off the street out of the cold and rain slipped in when no one was looking and through the rooms shivering and dripping till you found a seat marble slab and sat down to rest and dry off and on to hell out of there when was that?

turning-point that was a great word with you before they dried up altogether always having turning-points and never but the one the first and last that time curled up worm in slime when they lugged you out and wiped you off and straightened you up never another after that never looked back after that was that the time or was that another time

on the stone together in the sun on the stone at the edge of the little wood and as far as the eye could see the wheat turning yellow vowing every now and then you loved each other just a murmur not touching or anything of that nature you one end of the stone she the other long low stone like millstone no one looks just there on the stone in the sun with the little wood behind gazing at the wheat or eyes closed all still no sign of life not a soul abroad no sound

not a thought in your head till hard to believe harder and harder to believe you ever told anyone you loved them or anyone you till just one of those things you kept making up to keep the void out just another of those old tales to keep the void from pouring in on top of you the shroud

not a sound only the old breath and the leaves turning and then suddenly this dust whole place suddenly full of dust when you opened your eyes from floor to ceiling nothing only dust and not a sound only what was it it said come and gone and gone no one come and gone in no time gone in no time

Beckett, Samuel. Casando and Other Short Dramatic Pieces.

3 comments:

Kont said...

stormy times all times of raining out of clouds and doubts and thundering and calming re believing so finding the lost along - of yours are holy as your words are holy soul are holy to me to me

iman said...

not a sound only the old breath

Kont said...

"Ever tried, ever failed. No matter. Try again, fail again, fail better."