Saturday, February 22, 2014

Push and Pull

Push and pull
Powerful add power
Weak suffer
And get pushed closer
To the cliff.

Catching traction, strength surges
Survival against tides
Violence meets violence
In a never ending battle

Monday, February 17, 2014

Bliss (Blogophilia 52.6)


Such a strange word.  " a stage which is above any emotional state that is characterized as peace or happiness (feelings of enjoyment, pleasure, and satisfaction)."

(Thanks, Wikipedia)

In the context of the challenge, the word is set up as a carrot, urging the asses down the path, nobody realizing the distance between us and utopia never changes.

Religions of all types use Bliss as an incentive. Follow this tenet or that and have everlasting ecstasy or something.  Not surprisingly, some people rebel against this. Thomas Paine was one of these. He railed mightily against organized religion stating: "All national institutions of churches, whether Jewish, Christian or Turkish, appear to me no other than human inventions, set up to terrify and enslave mankind, and monopolize power and profit." He wasn't quite an Atheist, but had such a large distrust of religious aritifice that "represented" God to the people. But then, he was suspicious of societal and government structures in general, believing they existed for the enrichment of those in power. Paine was an individualist.  His mind was his church.  And if you didn't like that, you could just get out. 

So, what is the bliss I follow? I gave up that chase a long time ago.

Wednesday, February 12, 2014

Beginnings (The Blogging Lounge #3)

It begins with
A cry.
Shock of light and cold
After squeezing and pinching
Landing on
A sweet mound
To sleep.

It begins with
A light
From eyes inviting
The effort to pull up
After falling on
A sweet mound
To cry

It begins with
A fight
Over what to do
As the body grows
Sweet mound
To give

It begins with
A bite
After shells are shed
And the sweet mound
Swells larger
To please


It begins again....

Sunday, February 9, 2014

Bonfire (Blogophilia 51.6)

Another log on the bonfire
As they cuddled under his cloak
She knew where it was going
He knew how far.

He said: "I want to hold your hand"
And he adorned it with a star.
"Will you marry me and be my wife?"
Her face reflected that star
"I would love nothing better from life."

So many years gone by now
Joy and pain
Stitches in time
On their tapestry
Etched their faces
Under a cloak
As they face the bonfire.

Sunday, February 2, 2014

Stranded on Ice (Blogophilia 50.4)

Watching the colors
Fade to away
To white.
Knowing I wouldn't
Make it home.

It didn't matter.
Freed from the routine
I greet my neighbor.
Give a push.

And at the Waffle House
I pray for the waitresses
To deliver my coffee
Hot and fresh
In the crush.

The antipathy of anonymity
Is long past.
This isn't virtual life
Only real life.

Where we are
To ourselves
And others.  
And where when
We feed each other
We feed ourselves.