:: :: :: :: terrible dragon: slaying the world one poem at a time :: :: :: ::
Wednesday, June 30, 2010
The endless river that circles
All Tribes Are Mine
I claim them all, if none will have me. All tribes are mine. I claim them in my afterbirth, my red crown screaming, “How have I come to this?” before language made its first imposition.
I claim all tribes by the endless river that circles the Earth in ceaseless blood. I call everything to kin from frog murmur to bear cry. In the pale shuddering of the sun and the incendiary fan of the moon, I proclaim breath ties with all who would have and not have me.
For I am of you, by you, for you, in you, and you cannot disclaim me. All tribes are mine and I claim you as such unto the end of my brief days.
So we chat about love and relationships and the small sacrifices one makes for another and we agree that we each already have the answers to what we say we don’t yet know and that what really slows us is the willingness to take action based on what we already know, how fear or comfort keeps us from banishing the compromises we hold ourselves hostage to like those pretty roses one sees tied at the end of grapevine rows that serve not as decoration but as enticement to whatever ravages blight or pestilence might visit upon the tender acre that would keep the heart from swelling into something wondrous and indiminishable, all this as a man walks out of a sporting goods store and passes by holding a shiny new rod and reel excitedly telling it about all the great places he’s going to take it, the quality time they’ll soon spend together as they hurriedly round the empty corner and disappear.
We turn to look at one another as everything we think we know bobs and submerges without a trace of ripple.
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.