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FireFire Posts: 18,983


Today I’m flying low and I’m

not saying a word

I’m letting all the voodoos of ambition sleep.

The world goes on as it must,

the bees in the garden rumbling a little,

the fish leaping, the gnats getting eaten.

And so forth.

But I’m taking the day off.

Quiet as a feather.

I hardly move though really I’m traveling

a terrific distance.

Stillness. One of the doors

into the temple


  • K67K67 Posts: 2,507
    To my shame I just don't get poetry that doesn't rhyme.  Love the rose though that speaks to me much more. 
  • mollismollis Posts: 151


    GO PLACIDLY amid the noise and the haste, and remember what peace there may be in silence. As far as possible, without surrender, be on good terms with all persons.

    Speak your truth quietly and clearly; and listen to others, even to the dull and the ignorant; they too have their story.

    Avoid loud and aggressive persons; they are vexatious to the spirit. If you compare yourself with others, you may become vain or bitter, for always there will be greater and lesser persons than yourself.

    Enjoy your achievements as well as your plans. Keep interested in your own career, however humble; it is a real possession in the changing fortunes of time.

    Exercise caution in your business affairs, for the world is full of trickery. But let this not blind you to what virtue there is; many persons strive for high ideals, and everywhere life is full of heroism.

    Be yourself. Especially do not feign affection. Neither be cynical about love; for in the face of all aridity and disenchantment, it is as perennial as the grass.

    Take kindly the counsel of the years, gracefully surrendering the things of youth.

    Nurture strength of spirit to shield you in sudden misfortune. But do not distress yourself with dark imaginings. Many fears are born of fatigue and loneliness.

    Beyond a wholesome discipline, be gentle with yourself. You are a child of the universe no less than the trees and the stars; you have a right to be here.

    And whether or not it is clear to you, no doubt the universe is unfolding as it should. Therefore be at peace with God, whatever you conceive Him to be. And whatever your labors and aspirations, in the noisy confusion of life, keep peace in your soul. With all its sham, drudgery and broken dreams, it is still a beautiful world. Be cheerful. Strive to be happy.

    By Max Ehrmann © 1927
    Original text

    Close enough to delirium :D
  • wild edgeswild edges Posts: 10,455
    Today I hid in my office
    from the persistant rain
    and the insistant pain
    in the bum
    repeating the word 'puddle'
    ad infinitum.

    An extract from 'Toddlers...' Wild Edges. 2020.

    If you can keep your head, while those around you are losing theirs, you may not have grasped the seriousness of the situation.
  • KiliKili Posts: 1,103
    Why cant you get Anadins in the jungle? 

    Because the Paracetamol

    'The power of accurate observation .... is commonly called cynicism by those that have not got it.

    George Bernard Shaw'

  • wild edgeswild edges Posts: 10,455

    Absence by Kathleen Jones.

    We didn’t notice they had gone
    leaving the door wide
    on a hot night
    the light
    stole out
    across the grass
    attracting attention

    and the glass
    in our uncurtained windows
    made a blazing trap
    of the June bugs
    fluorescent missiles
    hurling themselves
    in from the dark

    and furred moth wings
    and Daddy Long-legs
    and creeping beetles
    a figment
    in an old web or
    a dusting of carapace
    and lace wing
    on the loft sill

    and the swallows’ pouch
    of mud and feathers
    in the porch,

    and something
    that might have been a swift
    cutting an arc –
    dark against dark –
    above our heads –
    we did not know
    so long
    since we have seen them last.

    If you can keep your head, while those around you are losing theirs, you may not have grasped the seriousness of the situation.
  • FireFire Posts: 18,983

    Try to praise the mutilated world.
    Remember June's long days,
    and wild strawberries, drops of rosé wine.
    The nettles that methodically overgrow
    the abandoned homesteads of exiles.
    You must praise the mutilated world.
    You watched the stylish yachts and ships;
    one of them had a long trip ahead of it,
    while salty oblivion awaited others.
    You've seen the refugees going nowhere,
    you've heard the executioners sing joyfully.
    You should praise the mutilated world.
    Remember the moments when we were together
    in a white room and the curtain fluttered.
    Return in thought to the concert where music flared.
    You gathered acorns in the park in autumn
    and leaves eddied over the earth's scars.
    Praise the mutilated world
    and the gray feather a thrush lost,
    and the gentle light that strays and vanishes
    and returns.
    By Adam Zagajewski.
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