immersion

down, not breathing, down and twisting; pulled mercilessly by the stone. all passes by and mocking, again in an endless loop of disappointment. first and last, best and worst, none more pressing than any. deep and deeper still and not breathing. inky darkness that clings without resisting. all around the infinite sigh of emptiness. all around the meetings and partings and always the crushing deep. bound by foolishness and second guesses, pulled without remorse by the stone. light so distant through wet filter and fading.

*Rant Warning*

Am I the only one who finds modern Amercan pop "culture" disappointing at best?

What is it that's interesting about a culture that celebrates the degradation of women and the animalistic impulses of men? Seems the only "talent" required for fame these days is a willingness to be as pathetic, disgusting or offensive as possible. The show "The Soup" really brings that home. This show has an utterly bottomless well of material shamelessly provided by the "entertainment" industry. Don't get me wrong; I find the show quite hilarious, and that bothers me a little.

Then there's the whole "hip hop" thing. These people seem to have no respect for anything or anyone; least of all women. I know that my parents were every bit as horrified by rock & roll when I was a kid, but I really think things have reached a new low. The everyday use of the B word by almost everyone is an example of what I'm talking about. Why? Why do people use that word to describe women? Where is the respect? Does anyone even know what that word means anymore?

Well, I guess that's my random ramble for the day. We now return you to our regularly scheduled crap.

bellezza

green blue earth and sky
million colours clamour for the eye

beauty overwhelms me

newborn baby's cry
love of father for child

beauty overwhelms me

a thought that makes all the difference
a care when no one knew

beauty overwhelms me

string skillfully stroked
horn well blown

beauty overwhelms me

voice filled with passion joy
heart filled with love

beauty overwhelms me

city's light velvet star-filled sky
mountain's majesty

beauty overwhelms me

expanse of rolling sea
eternal burning blue heaven

beauty overwhelms me

so much
so much

all so much and more than i

marathon

and away we ran

through fields of green and gold

through forest dark and dreaming

through months and years

look forth to hope

look back and regret

in the rain

I watched as the man walked in the rain. Not a hard rain, but steady. He was wearing a stained leather jacket and no hat. His grey hair, matted and wet, seemed to glisten. As I watched, the man stopped, looked down. He stooped and moved as if to pick something up, though I saw nothing in the rain. He then continued his unhurried pace, around the corner and out of my view.

I crossed the street to the spot where the man had stooped down. Looking at the pavement, I saw only my reflection. The stairs to my apartment beckoned, and drew me to refuge.

impression

This painting, Girl with Pearl Earring by Jan Vermeer, has always appealed to me in a very sublime way. I'm sure I'm not the only one.

Vermeer was pretty obscure in his own time. If you've seen the film from a year or two ago, you'd get the idea that he was a sort of pet artist kept by a single wealthy patron. I have no idea how historically accurate the film is; probably the people who made it have none either. It was interesting, but really had no effect on my impression of the painting.

The girl is innocence personified; but not. She is sweet, but wise in an indefinable way. She's worldy but still a child. The painting still makes me shudder with its poignant appeal.

Oh - and she has no eyebrows.

caminhada do amor

love's walk long and deep

wavering not in forest dense with circumstance

stepping lightly drawn on by promise

sometimes steady sometimes rushed

always breathless

winsome and dreaming of everlasting

never doubting even in stumble




walk on

ode to insomnia

in dreams we linger long and torn from them by waking we are left with loss and gummy eyes

drawn down in sleep to places unknown to waking hours and sometimes wish for coffee

clamour busy day and routine so depraved without respite we take lunch at our desk

needs of modern life so pressing and peace so fleeting without wonder we seek chemical refuge

relationships regimented and obligations carried like stones but knowing ourselves we carry on

solace of first purpose a fading reward

enamored

angel enamored
yet touched with regret

beauty enraptured
yet soaring not set

angel possessed
of gifts so divine

so overflowing
a passion so fine

Steppe sublime


vastness untrod with beauty in keeping

the prairie rolls ever on

awash in a sea of grass we are humbled

made small by golden majesty