Wednesday, 13 September 2023
Spurned on
"Spurned pity can turn into cruelty just as spurned love turns into hate."
in Aphorisms (1880/1893), by Marie von Ebner-Eschenbach, writer (1830-1916)
Tuesday, 12 September 2023
Sunday, 10 September 2023
Saturday, 9 September 2023
Ghost ship
– fable fading now like a frayed,
sunbleached atlas
– unmoored, left to the currents
– gathering headway towards
the edge of the map
– oblivious to the homeport marks
– yet calling at foreign ports
– making time to anchorage elsewhere
– seemingly shoaling a chance course
– – now known never to return – –
– despite its casual erring
– sails always in sight
– hovering the homedock
– – it is time to storm the doldrums – –
– tonight, the locks to the harbour
shall be shut – till the seas sweep away
that fata morgana of a ship –
Wednesday, 6 September 2023
Tuesday, 5 September 2023
Grafted to grow
"In hatred as in love, we grow like the thing we brood upon. What we loathe, we graft into our very soul."
The Mask of Apollo (1966), by Mary Renault, novelist (1905-1983)
I don't really fancy the genre, but the two novels I read were certainly interesting. I recommend reading about her life first, the novels will make much more sense.
Monday, 4 September 2023
Sunday, 3 September 2023
I mastered the art of falling in love
Dreamt lives lived with each love
Every possible scenario enacted
Every pleasure and pain achieved
I mastered the art of falling in love
This man delivering a package
This woman serving morning coffee
All the beautiful and ugly people
I mastered the art of falling in love
Imagining them love me, hate me
Is what I do to take on the hours
Proof that people can love still
I mastered the art of falling in love
All these lived loves always ending
For my love for you refuses to die
For your love of me refuses to begin
I mastered the art of falling in love
Every day hoping you’ll call but don’t
Every day you love this someone else
Us two dying to be loved so this is why
I mastered the art of falling in love
Saturday, 2 September 2023
Pebbles & Bern
This morning I saw my dog
using my kitten as a pillow —
Bern’s massive head on Pebbles
who didn’t seem to mind.
Bern isn’t getting any younger,
he gets stiff hips in the morning
and has lighter hair around his eyes.
Science says one year for dogs
is seven years for us;
it also says their body systems
have factored in their own mortality.
But we haven’t. I haven’t.
One week for me, seven for Bern.
— it’s even worse for Pebbles:
twenty-one years taken the first two,
time is ruthless for a kitten.
I spend my days bummed out,
sometimes not even leaving the house,
just letting Bern out in the yard,
just letting time go by for lack
of knowing what to do with it.
While Pebbles sleeps all day long.
I have to get out of that rut,
not just for me, but for them too —
time passes differently for everyone,
but it matters for all of us.
Factoring in my own mortality.
So I’ll play with them. Go out, rain and shine.
Bern needs to go run after squirrels,
— he used to when he was a teen —
have Pebbles chase a fake mouse on a string,
make the day matter, make it unpredictable.
Get a tennis ball, grab a piece of yarn,
goof around, cuddle, nap in front of the telly,
make dinner for all three of us,
so that when we all go to sleep
our dreams make us twitch and bark,
paw and run, huff and purr.
Time that matters isn’t time anymore.
How are the five minutes of a mayfly’s like?
A day in the life of a Greenland shark?
Different, yet the same, I guess.
There’s no time in the life of a dog to get bored,
yet sometimes that’s we like doing
when boredom matters
more than time.
Pebbles just woke up.
Thursday, 31 August 2023
Spheres
A second ago the air the same
now vaulted in a spherical film
wobbly, iridescent, tense
now two different airs
inbetween, the thin pellicle
clearcut yet transparent
slowly, as water drains out,
the black spots turn into a film
darker than closed-eyelid eigengrau
the tension surfacing rapidly
some symbol hanging there
love perhaps, life, death, whatnot.
perhaps someone’s ego
protected at all costs
until something runs out
then the air in, out, the same.
Silly little details
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