There is always something mystical about sun rays coming through an open door or window……

Victoria C. Slotto, Author

images

There’s a certain slant of light—
the way the sun slices through half-opened blinds,
of a late afternoon in autumn,
a single star and fireflies
on a new-moon night.

There’s the sound of cricket calls,
a desperation to be heard,
the creak of wood-on-wood,
the texture of a rocking chair,
thick white paint, over paint that tells
the tale of those who came before.

There’s the taste of tears,
so many drops of loss,
the flow of pain down rounded cheeks,
my mother’s soothing touch.
That’s when I learn, too soon
(curled up upon her lap)
of death. There’s always that.

Over at dVerse Poetics Stuart McPherson invites us to tell a growing-up story. Yesterday a neighbor passed away and this brought to mind my first understanding of death. I was barely of an age to remember, but the details and circumstances of the telling are clear in my memory…

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Reasonably simple

Ramzi Suleiman

Because things cannot be complete

 without their shadows,

God created the candles

And the glittering lamps

on the water’s surface

————

Because the sea surface rises up

and collapses Down,

like a lover’s chest

Because lover’s sighs

stumble one after another

like the sea waves,

God created the moon

————

Because the Earth

does not stop spinning,

in search of its rendezvous

God created the hours

and asked them

to look after the minutes and the seconds,

and because, usually, appointments

choose their appointees,

God spared chance

————

Because the pomegranate tree

keeps its vows,

and the full chestnut

yearns for its self,

God created the earth

————

Because the night holds its grip

On the day’s sleeves

Like a blind man

clinching his hand on his cane,

Because the day

Throws the remnants of its light

And slips underneath the evening’s gown

God created the opposites

————

Because nothing…

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The line of thought is almost tangible

Start With Your Pen

The complete acceptance

Of the bodily warmth of your Surroundings,

Leads your thoughts astray.

 

Even the crook in your lower back

Occupies your time

More than whatever it is

That you are supposed to do.

 

How many hours are spent

In this lost limbo?

Somewhere in between your eyes

And what you really see.

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This is a timely read for me…..
It has just been so difficult lately & I just needed this sort of tonic to keep believing..

Ramble and Babble

“One must still have chaos in oneself to be able to give birth to a dancing star.” -Fredrick Nietzsche

I have an interest in both Art and Mental Illness.  My interests, like most, come from a personal place.  I have many close loved ones who suffer from Art and have Mental Illness.  I myself can fall into this category.  If I had a nickel for every time someone close to me attempted to cheer me up from a depression, or traumatic event, with the words “Well, now you have something more to translate into you art!” . . ..

Let’s just say there would be no more starving artists in the world.

There is truth in this idea that great art, honest art, real art (whatever you feel like labeling it) comes from a place of chaos.  I myself find my artistic abilities heightened to superhuman levels when I am…

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This is highly informative.

GenX Mystery Intellectuals

About success and failure…

Only the man himself can decide if his past actions were success or failure. No one else can say or decide it for him. Therefore, the man must always strive to regard all his actions as successful ones, even if they appear to be illogical, useless, and fruitless at the moment. Fruits of man’s actions are not always visible or apparent at first. This understanding may come later.

Being reborn into the same state…

It can be said that people return to their previous sorry state of existence simple because they regard their past life experience as a failure so they feel compelled to start it anew and to learn the same lesson again. Inthis case, it might be concluded that it is seldom advisable to attempt to learn the same lesson twice. The nature of any lesson is such that it cannot be repeated…

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