George Bernard Shaw, a playwright from around the time of World War I, is given credit for saying, "Better keep yourself clean and bright; you are the window through which you must see the world." It's good advice that few seem to consider. A few years back, when the news was full of such "happy"… Continue reading On Acting Wrongly
Tag: poetry
Poetry: Pity the Young
Pity the young It's not that We don't know How to care It's that we Don't know How to care Without boundaries
Blogging, getting wordpress running properly on Ubuntu
Things I'm thinking and feeling: I really don't "blog" all that much. I record, I guess, and that's sort of a "web log," but I really don't expose much of my innermost feelings - it's like observations with a mirror in the way. I've always been that way when I write. Always.Today I'm going to… Continue reading Blogging, getting wordpress running properly on Ubuntu
Poetry: Candle
I know I was there I feel the memories Like rain on glass But they killed me Created a ghost With cloth and emptiness And a pen I can still see And hear And feel And write But none of it matters To them Even though I think it should.
Poetry: Submerge
I love life best beneath the waves Where I can weep openly And nobody is obligated to care Or know
Poetry: Unity
If everyone believes as I do, With whom would I argue? From whom would I learn? With what light would I grow?
Poetry: Run
I tell myself I am not afraid Of being consumed By the thing Eating me But I am afraid Of losing my soul And forgetting Who I was Who I am And so I run Not to run away Not to run toward But to run To be To remain.
Poetry: Said
I don't know what I might have said If I had had the room To say It
Changes
I believe that art has to be a source of mutation to be any good. It has to change the person who's viewing or listening to the artistic work; it has to change the artist; it has to change in form. If it fails in any of these, it's not art any more, it's just… Continue reading Changes
Poetry: Alive
My tears keep falling in the middle of the night I tell myself that it will be all right Through years of ache it’s come to light They are still alive. I cannot touch them, a veil remains But is no longer the source of pain The truth, it shines, the light retains They are… Continue reading Poetry: Alive
