until the last (shanith)

Shantih shantih shantih ~ shanith there will betimefor joy a timewhen the worldis at peace and youand Itoo shanith to be bornis to learn all of lifewe are bornand we learn to the end born again shanith stay strong be trueto your heart endure and takea new step justone morenew step every day come willingly … Continue reading until the last (shanith)

the bear and the cockatoo (and things that remain)

These fragments I have shored against my ruins ~ what have I keptof myself . . . the plagueragesall aroundandI have not beentouched . . . no that is not true I toohave become more paranoid morbid depressed hopeless resigned resolved vaccinated everythingbut the lurgyitself the world –my world –has changedin these last yearsandI wonderwhatis … Continue reading the bear and the cockatoo (and things that remain)

untamed (the problem persists)

Quando fiam uti chelidon—O swallow swallow When shall I become like the swallow? ~ it isa temptation –always –to turn a problemintoa more palatableform to dress itin finer garb to admire it –at leastfrom a distance perhaps . . . in a cage gildedto be sure and –if it is a bird –admire the plumageif … Continue reading untamed (the problem persists)

unburned (the clowns of privilege)

Poi s’ascose nel foco che gli affina Then he hid in the fire that refines/improves him ~ what kindof firewill improve a person nonethat they willwillinglysubmit to shaping comesdespitea person’s wishes some peoplewill neverbe improved believing the fireis intended to burnsomeone else they do not recognizewhen their ownbootsare rising smoke when the momentfor meaningful changeis … Continue reading unburned (the clowns of privilege)

An assault on the (IG) citadel.

I haven't yet been much of a user of Instagram, but am preparing myseklf fr a little assault on that citadel. I'm revisiting my old 17 syllable Book of Clouds project. It never came to much because I ruined the photos for print purposes and could never satisfy myself about how to present the material. … Continue reading An assault on the (IG) citadel.

brother (the daisies are everlasting)

The sea was calm, your heart would have respondedGaily, when invited ~ news today the cicadashave startedtheir singing the forestis coming alive it is a dayafterunexpected rain gloryunder the sun la niñahas held backsummerfor awhile but they sayshe might beleaving sothe cicadassing ~ funeral homesare issuing warnings their staffare becoming ill taking timeawayto get better … Continue reading brother (the daisies are everlasting)

sweet you (sweet me)

The follow up to my earlier 17s post today.

The spider is such a very very efficient hunter.

Or maybe it is her minute male mate . . .

regardless, everyday I see as many as three bees and some other insects wrapped up in web. Next time I visit, they are gone!

Seventeen Syllable Poetry

Spider and Bee – 26/01/2022

did you stay

I think
you might have

sweet you . . .

you are

sweet me


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