As intended, I made a fire at nightfall on the winter solstice. The family left the warmth of the house to see the fire that by itself cut the frost of the night. I made the fire as a memorial of sorts for those who might have been with us, my parents, the grandmother…
The mind begins to sweat soon enough when reading Nietzsche. He offers a style of thinking, and angle of view of world and of self which is uncomfortable, at first. Reading such philosophy is comparable to training in order to run a marathon. One does not just run 26.1 miles on a whim. One…
Thought reels upon recall of yesterdays extended quotation. Nietzsche describes Moira, a concept of the ancient Greeks. Moira is an inchoate dimension of a-rationality, impenetrable, formless dark, which disrupts our “world”, the one which we’ve purposefully constructed, a life-world of reason. We call such events accidents. Such as when a vehicle slams into another…
I felt comfort to see the horizon alight with the dawn. Upon entering the seating area at Starbucks, I felt the red of the Christmas-holiday promotion posters behind the beverage prep. counter. Paper cups with the colorful holiday graphic were stacked ready for use. Thus, I am reminded that life has a relentless heartbeat…
Disastrous are disasters. Paradise is such a lonely place that we are doomed, anyway. But at the meeting point of its rivers the horizon is always enlarged, the imagination unleashed. *** Love creates sand-storms and loosens reality’s building blocks. Its feverish energy takes us into the heart of mountains. Sometimes, a frozen moon illuminates…
A widespread feature of Christianity is hardly ever spoken of. Entire cultural groups are yet to recover from this malignant, distorted, misshapen evaluation of human sexuality. Perhaps you’ve the wrestled with a haunting of shame, the guilt-goblin that obstructs, persists, impeding a natural expression of your mammalian self? Hauntings are concealed, never spoken of…
The Song of the Idiot By Ranier Maria Rilke They do not hinder me. They let me go.They say, nothing could happen even so. How good.Nothing can happen. Everything revolves engrossedalways around the Holy Ghost,around a certain ghost (you know)— how good.No, one should really not supposethat there is any danger in those.There’s of…
A friend pointed me to this poem by Wm. Blake. How important is friendship, a few associations that are mutually cultivated for years, over an arc of time. I owe my growth as an adult to the recommendations received from friends, the books, poems, film, – all of that, the deposits in the bank…
Saturday morning is overcast. A storm moved through last night. We needed the rain. I feel gratitude for timely rain, because circumstances could be otherwise. I’ll not dwell upon that! Here is a poem that speaks to many things. The female poetess describes a birth, which is a primal and spiritual matter, a dying…
I understand this poem was found in T. S. Eliot’s papers. It appears to have been written in the last years of his writing career. The poem is a composition of poems which were previously written and published. Near to the end of a journey one sometimes is able to understand how once seeming…
