Monday, September 30, 2019
Thursday, September 26, 2019
Wednesday, September 25, 2019
Tuesday, September 24, 2019
Monday, September 23, 2019
Saturday, September 21, 2019
Friday, September 20, 2019
Thursday, September 19, 2019
Wild is the wind, David Bowie
to be here...it is enough for now. i have only now.
i read that Rebecca Solnit wrote in in Hope in the Dark that
“despair demands less of us, it’s more predictable,
and, in a sad way, it’s safer.”
and i give you a link:
Rebecca Solnit, Hope in the dark, full text
well, i am not an 'activist' nor do i follow -'ists' or '-isms'.
it is a very good text though.
only: i never read anything without questioning it, context, author, background,
definitions, intentions.
i am by now far from despair. all i want is clearness, and i do
all for that on my way to serenity, even if i need to be
very honest, naked and maybe malicious.
we all live and die, but before i die i wish serenity.
i go each day step for step, in my own breath.
not in another's.
i was born naked, i live naked, i die naked.
before i will be dead i am and will be alive,
and i want to be treated this way.
there is beauty ..everywhere, inside is outside, outside is inside,
but you must see as you can. all is music.
and if you don't see, it is your problem too.
it is one part of love between man and woman.
passion and warmth and release of love and through love.
i love this wild beauty here in Kerry...and i love me better by now.
Monday, September 16, 2019
calm see, Oysterbed Pier
Singularity, Marie Howe
brainpickings.org
Singularity
Marie Howe
Singularity
Marie Howe
(after Stephen Hawking)
Do you sometimes want to wake up to the singularity
we once were?
we once were?
so compact nobody
needed a bed, or food or money —
needed a bed, or food or money —
nobody hiding in the school bathroom
or home alone
or home alone
pulling open the drawer
where the pills are kept.
where the pills are kept.
For every atom belonging to me as good
Belongs to you. Remember?
Belongs to you. Remember?
There was no Nature. No
them. No tests
them. No tests
to determine if the elephant
grieves her calf or if
grieves her calf or if
the coral reef feels pain. Trashed
oceans don’t speak English or Farsi or French;
oceans don’t speak English or Farsi or French;
would that we could wake up to what we were
— when we were ocean and before that
— when we were ocean and before that
to when sky was earth, and animal was energy, and rock was
liquid and stars were space and space was not
liquid and stars were space and space was not
at all — nothing
before we came to believe humans were so important
before this awful loneliness.
before this awful loneliness.
Can molecules recall it?
what once was? before anything happened?
what once was? before anything happened?
No I, no We, no one. No was
No verb no noun
only a tiny tiny dot brimming with
No verb no noun
only a tiny tiny dot brimming with
is is is is is
All everything home
Sunday, September 15, 2019
Thursday, September 12, 2019
Wild Geese, Mary Oliver
You do not have to be good
You do not have to walk on your knees
For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting —
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.
You do not have to walk on your knees
For a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting —
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.
Sunday, September 1, 2019
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