Sunday, June 23, 2013

A Word From ~ e.e.cummings

i will wade out
                        till my thighs are steeped in burning flowers
I will take the sun in my mouth
and leap into the ripe air
                                                 with closed eyes
to dash against darkness

Saturday, June 22, 2013

Wednesday, June 19, 2013


Just think how happy you would be if you lost everything you have right now... 
...and then got it back again.
Frances Rodman

{the power of of God's greatest gifts...}

Monday, June 17, 2013

<> another year around the sun <>


It was I who occurred
{more exactly emerged}
these many years ago
{so the story goes}
but the truth be told, 
I am not old
In fact, I am still arriving...


Monday, June 10, 2013

Note to Self

 You are quiet the social imbecile.
...and really shouldn't be let out in public more than an hour at a time...

Tuesday, June 4, 2013

A Word From ~ C.S. Lewis

"We may ignore, but we can nowhere evade, the presence of God. 
The world is crowded with Him. 
He walks everywhere incognito
And the incognito is not always easy to penetrate. 
The real labor is to remember to attend. 
In fact to come awake. 
Still more to remain awake." 

<> C.S. Lewis <>

{{Just finished reading Dr. Armand M. Nicholi, Jr's "The Question of God"...thought-provoking read...highly recommend watching the PBS documentary of the same name which was based on the book...}}

Sunday, June 2, 2013

I Am Not Where I Ought To Be

I am eaten away by this plague of comparison.
I move my hand between my forehead and that of the latest adversary to my true joy.
If I fall short - disappointment.
If I come out ahead - disappointment.

I am exhausted by life.
This barrage of faces and needs…
…constantly checking a word, a look,
For subtlety, context, connotation...

I am weary of caring.
Of doubt.

My heart,
Though never brash,
Was once sure in those things expressed.
Now it crawls humbly before the world,
Asking meekly for permission to form any harebrained thought.

Release comes in fits and spasms;
Like the tremors of the insane.
I purge my woes unevenly on the page
And after a sad look of recognition,
They are orphaned and buried.

I toe the lines set out for me without question.
Spread thin by the old mischievous inklings to rub against the grain...

I am tired.
I am tepid.
I am slow.

My limbs hang like shackles.
My wrists betray my frailty.

In sparse moments of mental clarity...
I reach out to those beauties just beyond the lines of reality...
But they have forgotten my name.
I have been too long away.

In my play at responsibility
I have replaced the urgency for truth
With the stability of compromise.

I have worked so hard to be understood.
I have sacrificed much to avoid the hurtful tone of dismissal.

But to whom will I answer to when my heavy head lies loose and unhinged...?
What goodness will be found after I have let go the last whim...?

I wish…once more…to be bold…
To speak good in haste:
Without heed to convention,
Or need of sanction.

Fear and fear and doubt and compromise...
...I am not where I ought to be.


{{simultaneously trying to be both a better person and writer. it is no small task...}}

Saturday, June 1, 2013

When One is Uninspired

Hello has been a awhile since I have posted more than a vague sentence or two with corresponding imagery...time is either so completely stagnant or passing me by at such a blistering speed that I have not the presence of mind to stop and take stock of my dwindling supply of inspiration.
And so, today I ramble.

I am sitting here, listening to my recently acquired vinyl recording of the "Charade" soundtrack. Having been brooding over the late-50's/early-60's atheistic and its absence from my life as of late, Mancini's main theme for the film is actually a very effective balm for my misplaced yearnings.
I am also plotting the reconstruction of a vintage dress find. Rest at ease, dear is not my clumsy, unskilled hands that will be undertaking this deed of beautification; the proper professionals will be consulted. I am thinking a low scooped back, quarter-length cuffed sleeves, skirt hitting at or just below the knee, and perhaps a thin gold braided belt to finish it off.

What say you, hmm? Normally I would not meddle with items of age, but being a sweet homespun frock with such an irresistible pattern, it seemed a shame not to show it off.  I shall be glad to update you when the transformation is complete. :)