Easy pleasures

Hello everyone, it was a holiday today in my part of the world. its a festival actually , which i do not get to celebrate cz i don have a brother. but i hardly care. i get a break which is good enuff!
so what i did was, i actually decided to go n see what these guys do at this 'therapy place' i've been hearing about since forever. actually its sort of like a secluded -lil- trees -everywhere-dwelling where old people live and AND have a marvellous time!

I've always felt a lot for old people , thats becz Ive spent most of my small life with my set of old ppl, my grand folks! anyway, so i went there and just spent time with them and felt rather cool.
they were good fun to hang out with and even cracked brainless crazy jokes , the kinds we teenagers think we have a 'patent' over. the roll on the floor , laughing ur ass off kinds! i had a groovy time and I'm gonna drive down there more often , not because my applications require me to but because i want to.

anyway, I've been doing a lot of, a LOT of reading for my literature subject test this November. and genuinely speaking, i have begun to savor English. i mean i never hated it but it was never "my kinder" subject.
now i have begun to delight in poetry and revel in the plays these guys wrote decades and centuries ago and I've begun to really wanna read them , not just becz i got to but becz i want to!
i mean here i am , reading stuff written by a couple of 100 year old men which makes sense to me just like it did to them a 100 years ago!

it just perplexes the hell outta me that how can a guy know precisely what i feel or will feel when he was in a totally different world and a totally different being! how can two people feel the exact same things? that is why i adore poems, cz they're short and convey whatever they have to without wasting paper.
i r'ber a couple of years ago i used to be good at this stuff, i used to write good poems worth being shown around. now i suck at it! infact i just cant do poetry anymore. things change.
for instance, i used to despise Shakespeare. we had this poem called "the seven ages" by him in our 7th grade curriculum and i hated him and i hated everything ever written by him [guilt] and here i am spending as much time i can on his plays now. and as a matter of fact, i agree. he was really good. there really isn't any praise without no rhyme or reason.

So because I'm interested, i came across this exquisite piece of art [poems = art], the other day, I've even put it up on my other blog. i liked it too much!
It's a sonnet by E.E.cummings and it's splendid! enjoy.

I carry your heart with me
i carry your heart with me(i carry it in my heart)
i am never without it(anywhere i go you go, my dear;
and whatever is done by only me is your doing my darling)

i fear
no fate(for you are my fate, my sweet)
i want no world(for beautiful you are my world,
my true
and it's you are whatever a moon has always meant
and whatever a sun will always sing is you

here is the deepest secret nobody knows
(here is the root of the root and the bud of the bud
and the sky of the sky of a tree called life;
which grows higher than soul can hope or mind can hide)
and this is the wonder that's keepin the stars apart

i carry your heart , i carry it in my heart.