The Wings of the Dove

Are you ready? Can you see?

See the way you're controlling me.

I have a heart that yearns to love

I'll fly away on wings, a dove.

You can't stop me, oh you'll see!

His heart forever belongs to me.

My escape, my love, my liberty

Away, apart from you, I'll be

Apparently I'm in a poetic mood. All poems in this blog post are (mostly) inspired by Henry James's novel The Wings of the Dove. I took some creative liberties. The book's got a pretty decent story, but it is anything but an easy read. I have issues with James's style of writing. It's too flowery and filled with fluff for me. Give me some Mark Twain over Henry James any day. Not only is Twain easier to understand, he's way more patriotic than James. James ran off to Europe and became an ex-patriot.

Granted, I imagine it's far more romantic to fly away to Europe. I mean, have you seen Venice? Yeah, I haven't either. But I've seen pictures, and man. That place is gorgeous.

Anyway, like I said earlier, anything personal will be cryptic. Sorry. It kills me to do it, but I'd rather be careful. A lot of drama is happening right now, and it's better to be safe than sorry.

I'll leave you with one last poem, just in case my bad poetry hasn't already fried your brain cells.

Living life like puppets on strings,

break away.

You say you can't choose anything,

break away.