Friends
My November guest
Flow of river/time
Jean-Paul Sartre VS. Mereleau-Ponty
On Reading & Writing -- Sartre quote
Sartre on reading and writing
Conatus~ Latin for "effort; endeavor; impulse, inc…
Trishanku / ತ್ರಿಶಂಕು ಸ್ವರ್ಗ
Swing up in air so blue
Man, his toy and his muse....
Time for a walk
Fate / Schicksal
Space *
Music - Chills/Opioids!
From the Active Body to the Mind
End of another day
Brain -- a chemical soup
*
Sycamore / Pane
Painted box
*
Autumn Morning
Winter Blues
Gauthama Buddha
Road side vendor
Seasonal Window view
Authorizations, license
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- Photo replaced on 19 Nov 2016
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134 visits
Any Common Dissolution


Can be enough to make you look up
at the yellowed leaves of the apple tree, the few
that survived the rains and frost, shot
with late afternoon sun. They glow a deep
orange-gold against a blue so sheer, a single bird
would rip it like silk. You may have to break
your heart, but it isn’t nothing
to know even one moment alive. The sound
of an oar in an oarlock or a ruminant
animal tearing grass. The smell of grated ginger.
The ruby neon of the liquor store sign.
Warm socks. You remember your mother,
her precision a ceremony, as she gathered
the white cotton, slipped it over your toes,
drew up the heel, turned the cuff. A breath
can uncoil as you walk across your own muddy yard,
the big dipper pouring night down over you, and everything
you dread, all you can’t bear, dissolves
and, like a needle slipped into your vein—
that sudden rush of the world
.
"Any Common Dissolution" ~ Ellen Bass
at the yellowed leaves of the apple tree, the few
that survived the rains and frost, shot
with late afternoon sun. They glow a deep
orange-gold against a blue so sheer, a single bird
would rip it like silk. You may have to break
your heart, but it isn’t nothing
to know even one moment alive. The sound
of an oar in an oarlock or a ruminant
animal tearing grass. The smell of grated ginger.
The ruby neon of the liquor store sign.
Warm socks. You remember your mother,
her precision a ceremony, as she gathered
the white cotton, slipped it over your toes,
drew up the heel, turned the cuff. A breath
can uncoil as you walk across your own muddy yard,
the big dipper pouring night down over you, and everything
you dread, all you can’t bear, dissolves
and, like a needle slipped into your vein—
that sudden rush of the world
.
"Any Common Dissolution" ~ Ellen Bass
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