Saturday Morning


Like someone not wanting something.
Not anything.
Mouth sewn shut.
Eyelids sewn shut.
I forgot myself.
The wind inside.
Everything shut, and the wind inside.

~ Alejandra Pizarnik, from “Paths of the Mirror,” Extracting the Stone of Madness: Poems 1962 – 1972

Notes: Poem Source – the château of my heart. Photo: By a.f. vandevorst s.s 1999 via Precious Things


  1. And to still the internal winds is to feel at peace…even briefly..

    Liked by 1 person

  2. my first thought….. My! Very powerful forces are being locked up, with no ‘air vents’. second thought….. in sleep, all has calmed to bliss.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Loving that photo. ☺


  4. sounds like peaceful white noise inside –

    Liked by 1 person

  5. Sounds like death. Unconsciousness, anyway.

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Well, her eyes and mouth are “sewn” shut, her breath is gone, and she doesn’t “want” anything. Have you ever known a woman not to want anything? She must be dead.
    (And I bet her tongue is in her cheek.)

    Liked by 1 person

  7. It’s good to forget ourselves, our ego, our thoughts, our busyness and just be. 🙏🏻

    Liked by 1 person

  8. Christie says:

    I wonder and I assume that in this contentment state, away from the outward stimuli that the wind must be gentle and the person’s weightlessness of mind and body, must be floating… no long in a loop of continual demands of action but peacefully, effortlessly floating… into an endless stream of all encompassing pure energy merging further, deeper, gaining…freedom

    Liked by 1 person

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