It has become very popular these days to "let go of thought". But I love silence and I love to think. And poetry is simply my journal of thought. Here is today's entry. Thou Art A broken flower of the world shoved in a glass jar on a dark shelf, under millions of particles of… Continue reading Poetry as thought
A long traveler with poor sight, I stroll across a street lined with sharp eyes. Twinklers with no birth dates, their gaze pins me down from heights of great pillars unsplashed by the common sea. Some strange and proud, still others so sweet, eyes lovely; these would gladly make me forget the lies, emptiness, worm-holes… Continue reading Black Holes
Nothing ever dies And no one is more alive, Than your severe and ironic rhymes. In blind man's darkness I seek my tunnel reddened by distant lights; I don't see the righteous Neither do I look behind. What can I do but advance, Given no light, though gifted a guide. A guide who took me… Continue reading In memoriam J.B.
This evening I feel myself one of the millions trying to reconcile their dreams with a blank page. The real surprise grown- ups face every year, this is it: a book crammed with multiple genres that opens one page a day. The main catch is that no one promised the surprise to be a… Continue reading Reconciliation
As a performing classical musician, I've often wondered - is the lack of our listeners a problem of the post-iron age, or that of parenting, or its' larger unit- society, or is it insensitivity all around that's killing us, or maybe - wait! Let's for a moment stop putting the blame on everyone (this illness of… Continue reading Music Outside of Caste
Exactly what I’ve been thinking about for the last few years. Let’s remember how much easier life used to be -what, 5 years ago?
My friends’ 2 year olds can’t live without I phones and tablets- what’s next? However horrible that sounds, either a generation of terminators, or WW3.
The following video takes an almost comical approach to this subject, but there is not one thing I find amusing about this subject.
We are raising up generation after generation of illiterate, culturally/artistically dead nincompoops who cannot carry on an intelligent conversation (or intelligent anything) with another human being, and by conversation, I do not mean abbreviated text-messaging with two thumbs:
The “Look Up Experiment”: Kids So Obliviously Lost in Their iPads, Their Families Were Swapped at Dinner Without Them Noticing
SEPTEMBER 9, 2016 | MELISSA DYKES | THE DAILY SHEEPLE
Wow. This says a lot about the Brave New World we are steadily marching into these days.
This “experiment” is an ad for the yet-to-be-released Dolmio Pepper Hacker, a sneaky gadget that looks like a harmless pepper grinder but actually cuts the WIFI signals at the dinner table so parents can bring their tech addicted children…
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What do you think of the famous questions dating back to 19th century Salons of Paris, later given the name of the Proust Questionnaire? Marcel Proust, the great author of the 7-volume life-long work "In Search of Lost Time" had answered similar questions twice, however without any part in their invention or wording. I sit, thinking,… Continue reading Proust Questionnaire
“My house cannot have wheels!” I yelled at my husband, after another long day of looking at apartments in LA and coming up with nothing. We had spent a good 2 months searching for the perfect place… Source: Life Begins At The End of Your Comfort Zone
Autumn Isn't dreary, autumn isn't a maid grown old. Autumn is a maid stripped bare. By rain, by wind, by human hand. Undressed. Left to live with bare essentials. Only thus, she shall come to know the bare essence of things. And waiting for new times she will praise these. What she's waiting for is… Continue reading A thought on Autumn
The Season of Phantasmal Peace BY DEREK WALCOTT Then all the nations of birds lifted together the huge net of the shadows of this earth in multitudinous dialects, twittering tongues, stitching and crossing it. They lifted up the shadows of long pines down trackless slopes, the shadows of glass-faced towers down evening streets, the shadow… Continue reading The Season of Phantasmal Peace