They fan out like a black buzz saw water shelter food So small against a gathering sky water shelter food A waking hunger in their feathered bellies water shelter food One mind undisturbed by worry water shelter food For there is simply no time for it.
October arrives in skybruise and Gothic fire. One is a smudge of sky chromality, the other a spill of meadowing sun. Both are mine this early morning and I share them with no one.
To keep them, I do this: each vesperous thing laced in tatted lines against the harshness of industry and the wheel of the world. Neither will last for very long, so I am become witness.
Already, sun is claimed by clouds and the fire is doused. The taffied patch of color is pulled, too, given over to an smeary viscera of smoke and heavy vapor that will fail to hold itself up.
One can smell rain if a tilt of nose is set just so, a vectorary veering toward the west where it will establish a beachhead in imminent expectation. Morning and weather and all that that entails.
I see you walking there, a stick of pink at the base of a long shadow, your feet picking a path that reveals itself as you go. Birds skit and flush as you do, disrupting not one step of your traverse.
I cannot join you where you step for you are not there. I see you as if you were, but neither of us can bridge this gap of license, span such a shallow surge to cross from imaginary to a bank of tendered flesh.
So I will settle for a morning in October. It is enough, I tell myself and whisper to you who are not there, you who resume your ghostly passage at the pink end of a long shadow that disappears beyond horizon and love.
wisdom is worth all we lose to attain it. ~aucassin verdé
i wonder if the artist ever lives his life-—he is so busy recreating it. only as i write do i realize myself. i don't know what that does to life. ~anne sexton
you must acquire the trick of ignoring those who do not like you. in my experience, those who do not like you fall into two categories: the stupid and the envious. the stupid will like you in five years time. the envious, never.~john wilmot, 2nd earl of rochester
art arises when the secret vision of the artist and the manifestation of nature agree to find new shapes. ~kahlil gibran
creativity is allowing yourself to make mistakes. art is knowing which ones to keep. ~scott adams
those who don't know how to weep with their whole heart, don't know how to laugh either. ~golda meir
i said to my soul, be still,
and wait without hope,
for hope would be hope
for the wrong thing.
wait without love,
for love would be love
of the wrong thing.
there is yet faith;
but the faith and the love
and the hope are all
in the waiting.
wait without thought,
for you are not ready for thought.
so the darkness shall be the light,
and the stillness the dancing.