Saturday, January 30, 2016

Finding Muse-ical Inspiration in India!

If I can stop one heart from breaking,
I shall not live in vain;
If I can ease one life the aching,
Or cool one pain,
Or help one fainting robin
Unto his nest again,
I shall not live in vain.
- Emily Dickinson
Art - The Working Man's Substitute for Living and Life

Friday, January 22, 2016

Carpe Noctum!

Carpe Noctum, let the darkness transfix you
In a raven reverie of charcoal so pure.
Eclipsed from the blinding light that will burn you,
Reach for the night with its blackened allure.
Stand in the shadows, become but a farce,
You’ll be safe from the pain and dejection you feel.
After awhile, the anguish will pass,
Trust in the darkness, your wounds it will heal.
Like ignorant moths we flock to the light,
That sets us ablaze and turns us to ash.
Smoulder in flames, you surrender the fight,
You are struck by the lightning: killed with a flash.
Seize the night, seize ebony bliss
Carpe Noctum: redeeming kiss.
- Nicole Breen, "Carpe Noctum"

Wednesday, January 20, 2016

The Divided Soul

The original human nature was not like the present, but different. The sexes were not two as they are now, but originally three in number; there was man, woman, and the union of the two, of which the name survives but nothing else. Once it was a distinct kind, with a bodily shape and a name of its own, constituted by the union of the male and the female: but now only the word 'androgynous' is preserved, and that as a term of reproach.

In the second place, the primeval man was round, his back and sides forming a circle; and he had four hands and the same number of feet, one head with two faces, looking opposite ways, set on a round neck and precisely alike; also four ears, two privy members, and the remainder to correspond. He could walk upright as men now do, backwards or forwards as he pleased, and he could also roll over and over at a great pace, turning on his four hands and four feet, eight in all, like tumblers going over and over with their legs in the air; this was when he wanted to run fast.

Now the sexes were three, and such as I have described them; because the sun, moon, and earth are three; and the man was originally the child of the sun, the woman of the earth, and the man-woman of the moon, which is made up of sun and earth, and they were all round and moved round and round because they resembled their parents. Terrible was their might and strength, and the thoughts of their hearts were great, and they made an attack upon the gods; of them is told the tale of Otys and Ephialtes who, as Homer says, attempted to scale heaven, and would have laid hands upon the gods.

Doubt reigned in the celestial councils. Should they kill them and annihilate the race with thunderbolts, as they had done the giants, then there would be an end of the sacrifices and worship which men offered to them; but, on the other hand, the gods could not suffer their insolence to be unrestrained. At last, after a good deal of reflection, Zeus discovered a way.

He said: 'Methinks I have a plan which will enfeeble their strength and so extinguish their turbulence; men shall continue to exist, but I will cut them in two and then they will be diminished in strength and increased in numbers; this will have the advantage of making them more profitable to us. They shall walk upright on two legs, and if they continue insolent and will not be quiet, I will split them again and they shall hop about on a single leg.'
Plato's Speech of Aristophanes, "Symposium"

Monday, January 18, 2016

Empty Chairs...

Empty empty empty
so many empty chairs
everywhere. They look
charming in van Gogh’s paintings.

I quietly sit on them
and try to rock
but they don’t move —
they are frozen
by what’s breathing inside them.

Van Gogh waves his paintbrush —
leave leave leave
there’s no funeral tonight.

He looks straight through me,
and I sit down
in the flames of his sunflower
like a piece of clay to be fired.
- Liu Xia, "Empty Chairs"

Saturday, January 16, 2016

Living In G_d's Hands...

In the mid-to-late 1990s, Bauman began exploring postmodernity and consumerism.[12] He posited that a shift had taken place in modern society in the latter half of the 20th century; it had changed from a society of producers into a society of consumers. According to Bauman, this change reversed Freud's "modern" tradeoff—i.e., security was given up in order to enjoy more freedom, freedom to purchase, consume, and enjoy life. In his books in the 1990s Bauman wrote of this shift as being a shift from "modernity" to "post-modernity".
Zygmunt Bauman

Tuesday, January 12, 2016

Shadow Play

A little Madness in the Spring
Is wholesome even for the King,
But God be with the Clown –
Who ponders this tremendous scene –
This whole Experiment of Green –
As if it were his own!
- Emily Dickinson

Monday, January 11, 2016


Wonder -- is not precisely Knowing
And not precisely Knowing not --
A beautiful but bleak condition
He has not lived who has not felt --

Suspense -- is his maturer Sister --
Whether Adult Delight is Pain
Or of itself a new misgiving --
This is the Gnat that mangles men --
- Emily Dickinson

Saturday, January 9, 2016

Now Trending....

The right trend is not what you wear
What's in and out is not what the Mag say's
There is the longtime trend that successful models wear
And it's right there inside you
Confidence is the best accessory
It never fades
No matter what color you wear
With or without shades
So try to wear that today
Live life wearing it in the streets
Don't hide it on your shelf
-Jantal, "Trend, A Poem (Diamonds:Priceless)"

Friday, January 8, 2016

Zorbing Into Reality

A chance to speak,
Beneath broken sheets,
Caught out in moment,
Dying deep inside.
Evaporate tension,
From little or no knowing,
Growing up alone,
Half loved and half resented.
I come to conclusions,
Just before my death,
Keeping me in memory,
Like you always promised,
Missing me in silence,
No more mourning of past,
Of regrets and despairs.
Promise me you’ll use what I learnt,
Question the decisions of others,
Reluctant or not,
Stay away from their paths,
They only lead you to their futures,
Unknowingly you end their second,
Valiant but alone,
Where you spend life in wandering,
Xrayed life,
Your future makes up nothing
Zorbing inside of your own bubble.
Amelie Pascual, "Life from A to Z" (1/28/13)

Tuesday, January 5, 2016


I've made my
share of mistakes.
I lost count somewhere along the way
between heartache and
I am transient.

I've made so many mistakes.
I've hurt enough friends and
been hurt enough
to know when it isn't worth it.
I know when to run.

I've made mistakes
by judging too quickly
by giving up too easily.
I've made mistakes
by holding on too long.

Yeah, I've made mistakes
when deciding who to trust.
I've made mistakes by
talking when I shouldn't
and trusting blindly.

I've made mistakes.
I've hurt others,
I've been hurt.
I have loved,
I have lost those I loved.

I've made mistakes.
I once thought forever was a promise.
I learned that promises
can't be kept
when you die.

I've made mistakes,
given power to those
who don't deserve it-
could never earn it,
are not worth it.

I've been hurt so many times
that I began to realize
the point isn't to learn from my mistakes.
The point is to run away
and never face them.

I've made mistakes.
I have hurt those I love
and I have loved those who hurt me.
They will never be

I've lied so many times
my mind has become
unrecognizable - a twisted
disfigurement of

I've made so many mistakes.
I know how to recognize them.
I know when to call it over,
I know when it's not worth it.
I know when I cannot take any more.

I know I've made mistakes.
I will never be perfect.
My life is a never ending train of screw-ups,
but I have finally realized something.

I have learned that
through all of the mistakes I have made,
everything I haven't done right,
knowing you
never was, will never be
a mistake.
Elizabeth Grace. "Mistakes I've Made"

Monday, January 4, 2016

Trapped in the Other''s Dream...

Finally, I gave up on obeisance,
and refused to welcome
either retribution or the tease

of sunny days. As for the can’t-be-
seen, the sum-of-all-details,
the One—oh, when it came

to salvation I was only sure
I needed to be spared
someone else’s version of it.

The small prayers I devised
had in them the hard sounds
of split and frost.

I wanted them to speak
as if it made sense to speak
to what isn’t there

in the beaconless dark.
I wanted them to startle
by how little they asked.
Stephen Dunn, "Salvation"