Comments

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

 Awake sleep insomnia the quiet of the night, deepest slumber denied but still I dream but the dream becomes words in sequence like passing seconds that mark my solitude the veil, dark, covers the land the wind, strong scours the trees the sleep that evades me the day that starts before the others even waken and after so many years after so many meetings in front of this screen my lack of sleep is not a lack of rest but a nap, waiting to happen and waiting is what insomnia teaches  
Read more

Explorer

The world cannot be saved, not in any spiritual or religious way. It doesn't need salvation, resting as always in absolute perfection, the world and it's wonders are beyond any human ideas. The world cannot be saved, but we shall, misguidedly proceed on a pilgrim's journey to redeem what gives us base. Like some retired, first grade teacher whose pedagogical insights fail when applied to adult life and the real world, no ritual, no march or riot will make what is any better. The world cannot be saved, in another sense still, by new age fancy, gender-based empowerment, or deconstructive stratagem. The world clings to all it contains, so nothing is better than anything else if it has been deemed fit to be. The world cannot be saved, not stored up or hamstered away, no investment for the future can invest anything with more value than the world already has. So let us not save the world, better to run from it.
Read more

grove, to have grieved

Image
...sitting here typing my emotions onto this virtual page as if the feelings will  either disappear in this torrent of words or become permanent by having been revealed and published, publicized, civilized, brought out into daylight...grappling with grief again, not the heavy sadness but the seriously numbing variety that reveals the acceptance of the tragic as just the new norm of the new rhythm of a new quotidian reality. Acceptance is good. It is factual, true, it reveals how things are and spotlights what we face in desire; what we want to be and what cannot be. The gulf between feeling and knowledge. The winds and storms of emotion rage above the solid landscape below. I walk in the landscape, being a farmer and not a bird. But my emotions would gladly wing away to her soul's side and give up this mantle, while my body in his sad realism will keep wandering the paths that lead to work and the loss of self that will mask her absence...
Read more