Really, the problem isn’t that plans fail, it’s what we do when they fail. When we miss a day or two at the gym, or order takeout when we meant to cook, most of us just shrug, give up entirely, and say, “Well, there’s always next year,” or we find another milestone to look forward […]
via “ Really, the problem isn’t that plans fail, it’s what we do when they fail. “ — Art of Quotation
“Nobody wants to be here and nobody wants to leave.” Cormac McCarthy, writer, book quote from The Road, Pulitzer Price for fiction, 2007 The Road is a 2006 post-apocalyptic novel that details the journey of a father and his young son over a period of several months, across a landscape blasted by an unspecified cataclysm […]
via “Nobody wants to be here and nobody wants to leave.” — Art of Quotation
Two halves .. inked on its fading yellow
With Crinkled words being fugitive to it.
They speak of one such day and in reminisce
A drop smudges it with the colours of black.
Reflecting their presence
That articulated into the craters of time,
They reveal a saga untold,
Coveting the infinite textures upon the page.
Resolute with the an incessant quest,
Clasped to the wings of translation
They rise afloat across the ambit
Exuberant, reaching the azure abode .
-Dr. Rumana Sinha Sehgal
I gave as pure as I could
with the freshest force I understood
Things of subtlest design
sudden surprising did we find
A woe alone the prophet’s divine
as does the poet long suffering for rhyme
All the beauties are made fresh, but
for a time
Oh, how the power of the Muse
being certain becomes so quickly confused
As innocent’s necessitate distinctions from their false truths
Did you come to deliver me
How easily we plumbed the depths
as infants suckle then gasp in breaths
The easy made difficult in symmetrical tests
A purer purity that before you could not be known
A vision power cast is still yet vulnerable prone
I looked everywhere for a trace of what had been
but it proved to be a fast hope with it’s punishing quick end
All the things in your voice I longed for didn’t hear
and what of the branch that just yesterday dipped so near
with its cherished fruit dear
Oh, the stage is set
and the gift of time is too soon paid as debt
The look in your eyes and the temperature that changed with each step
and the cruelest message ever written upon two lips
Ah, the way your eyes did land
a prophesy for the coolness of your hands
And what of the touch that was your kiss
And all the marks that once hit now simply missed
So the energy growing still fast
in perhaps a love that has long since passed
and the hope alone that made it seem to last
The vulnerable prone now vision casts
And so with nowhere to go
a soul whose destiny prevails alone
Laid out plain and bare
the great divide whose pain is clear
And yes, I said the things that must never be said
A shame so great were better dead
And though I was and ever will be so in love
This shall here now be known as the day my below crashed with my above
And I was left with nowhere to go
And however ashamed is proven sad
A taste of the elusive triumph
I had
-cbhenderson
At first sight
he looked
and felt
and smelled
as fire to me
as something inhuman
into our world
had somehow
broken free
his wolves had gone
to run the night
before returning to his sea
the night we met
In his immortal love
I learned to pray
to what
I knew
I need
not
know
but we may die here any day
sing once more
before we go
We asked him again and again
but in the end he still said,
“no…..but tell me why you continue
to seek and hunt me so
you’ve come to find me in this city
but why can’t you let me go
your commune is possessed
and you did not want to know
or see
or speak
but I earned my spurs on this battlefield
where do you stand
what will you yield
after all
this is our last and final
fucking meal
in this burnt land
and I told you I would stand
on the edge of the worlds
to usher in the dead
that this fire would touch the earth
leaving nothing unchanged
and spread
if it cuts your heart out
will you look inside
what color
what shades of red
will you find
I was there when the stars were formed
before the worlds were blind
and I will conquer this one too
excuse me
if you don’t mind
you know what I am
and always have
so do not try now
to be blind…
And most will not understand this storm
or the seeds that its dispersed
that I persuaded the devil
for a ride
until he felt coerced
I’ll love you if you’ll abide it
It wouldn’t be
the worst
In the dark with me
So come, I’ll tell you a story
if you’d like to take the time
how I bought this world for a penny hard when it’s barely worth a dime
how I told them all to come up and show me
where to draw the line
But they had nothing to say
I guess the one with the
largest teeth will always
lead the way
This world will be your murderer
When you have something real to say.
You feel too much”, he said
“So much you
make me feel this way
And my heart is undone here…
The angels are dancing as
we’re burning down our home
And how much meat if any
will be left upon the bone
After all
Its a long false line we walk
to get back home
when the last leaves fall into the fire
and you are all alone
and left behind…
ancient resurrection
diamonds in my hand
dead among the living
blood upon the sand…
I took one look at the sky and knew
long ago I should have learned
My dogs had feasted already
And the forest had long since burned
The night was scented painted bright with all we’d lost and earned
In this last war
Those that came before told me
I had died and yet remain
So if you’re going to fire that gun you better readjust your aim
This is a shoot out in the wild west
It’s is not a fucking game
And when I came here
this house of spirits
already knew my name
I had offered my life
as backing
In order to attain
something sacred
prophecy…
spirits watch expecting
us to transcend the laws of time
But I painted the map of the
the universe remember
the heavens
its stars are mine
and anarchy may be the consequence
of this cruel design
but if destruction be our lot
I’ll be it’s finisher
it’s author
this time … .. .”
At first sight
he looked
and smelled
as an otherworldly king
ferocious beautiful warrior
angel
immortal burning thing ~
“The Universe (Latin: universus) is all of space and time[a] and their contents,[10] including planets, stars, galaxies, and all other forms of matter and energy. While the spatial size of the entire Universe is unknown,[3] it is possible to measure the size of the observable universe, which is currently estimated to be 93 billion light-years in diameter.” -Wikipedia
My favorite word spans all, and while it can be so described logically, cataloged, measured Without awe and wonder Without poetry, without Soul.
Mechanical, mindless drone, just popped up in vain Meaningless, non-treasured toil with nothing to gain.
But we all know better, though we forget. The child-like miracle and magic our lives are How to see with the Minds eye, Immateria Earth like an alien planet, gnostic experience.
Scientists way of saying we don’t know. Not even near By mystical coincidence that tells us more, In Finnish “Uni” translates straight as dream.
That’s why it’s my favourite word, it accidental meaning of more, how precise and philosophical, poetic it transforms.
My mind flies straight to aborigine Dreamtime. We are still imagining, singing and dancing those verses. The ones unmeasured, our consciousness our experience.
We first, in ancient Greek and India formed geometric models, as Earth in the middle, the whole of Dreamverse and a dome around it Then heliocentric, the Sun the middle, our solar system all. We seemed constantly understand nothing at all.
“The more you understand, the larger the circumference of the dark”
We kept on dreaming more around us, kept dreaming ourselves smaller.
Now time, from the ever-present past to the expanding future is our whole.
All aiming, attracted to no-time at all, either by rushing through the space close to speed of Light or gathering in huge masses bending time ’till it’s close to forever all the while.
When I was a boy, I couldn’t understand why we dreamed all so gray. Why not story of us living in trees? Adventures, and exploring free. I was bitter for long, adult life and imagination didn’t seem to agree.
Bustling, stressing and hurry in every still somehow boring deed! Gray boring block houses, advertisement as decoration I played with stick a wizard in forest, the adults dream greed
But I have found that child in me, I know I can make my world like I wish and see, curious what happens in our narrative collectively. It’s all supernatural to me. I dance along as long it goes, until the eye opens and I am we.
Soul on Fire
http://www.almainsaciable.com
Will this fog ever lift?
I ask without
expecting a direct
answer.
I check your pulse
with two fingers
to the ground,
hoping for a sign
of your healing.
I quiet white noise
with white light, silence
the static of statistics
to steal back
a sliver of sanity.
I feel your cry, though
my hearing isn’t tuned
to your frequency.
I taste
your pain,
the miasma heavy
on my tongue.
Your lungs are
charred from the
fires of progress.
Your blood is poisoned
by the waste our
greed leaves behind.
Your back breaks
at the weight
of our sins, the
wars we wage
on your shoulders.
Your heart dies
with every new
extinction, every life
snuffed out.
Your body
must fight the virus
that turned a blind
eye to your suffering.
And so, the antibodies
must kill the virus
that was slowly
killing you.
Write hard and clear about what hurts. Ernest Hemingway
via “ Write hard and clear about what hurts. “ — Art of Quotation
When I Get To Heaven John Prine When I get to heaven, I’m gonna shake God’s hand Thank him for more blessings than one man can stand Then I’m gonna get a guitar and start a rock-n-roll band Check into a swell hotel, ain’t the afterlife grand? And then I’m gonna get a cocktail: vodka […]
With Trump’s approval numbers receding to pre-pandemic levels and Biden establishing a lead in early polling (5.9 points in the RealClearPolitics polling average), Trump is in unfamiliar territory. In the past, media saturation, out-and-out lying and right-wing media propaganda seemed to get him through the immediate news cycle. Now, his media blather is white noise […]
POETRY FESTIVAL. Submit to site for FREE. Submit for actor performance. Submit poem to be made into film. 