and now for something completely different...
I've said in the past that I might use this blog for things other than technology or teaching. So here we go.
One from the archives:
a moment in march 03/07/04
dabbed colors blur on the edge of
vision and
what cost is our sight worth?
forgive me for the moment
surrendering to the melancholy
to fatigue, to often grim realities
etched in stone for history.
this night is hopeful
maybe because of lessons learned-
sometimes it’s in the breathing,
still others, when it abruptly
stops...
do we perceive ourselves
as those few lines in newsprint?
or is this, “the stuff of life”
greater than that?
are my dreams still real?
are any of us where we
imagined ourselves to be?
open hearts are, sadly, more
in the realm of surgery
than something looked upon
with awe and understood
when we remember days of
“ill show you mine,” and how
as children, we were transparent-
love and anger, happy and sad
all from moment to moment
in lyrical necessity living,
breathing
existing on the edge of what we
were-
unborn, and commingling with what we
saw,
what was heard, phrases uttered
carelessly,
examples shown, learning to grow
in ways maddening and unexpected.
innocence slips silently
away in small bits
dreams die in collisions
with expectations of conformity.
sit right here young man and tell me
why you did that.
you don’t really think that way now
do you?
it’s a stage he’s going through,
it’s the medication talking,
it’s a mid-life crisis,
senility,
he was just a little eccentric...
these cycles, these universes we
inhabit where does time go?
how do we get there from here?
can you show me the path?
can you show me the way?
strings attached to one another,
chaotic conclusions, levels of hell,
planes of existence.
whatever it is, we are but a pea
in the soup, in the fog
catching fleeting glimpses of
something other than here and now,
once remembered and forgotten
lifetimes in beautiful streams of
suddenly coherent and cohesive space
and time.
and just like that
fading and lost,
gone, untouchable
and we can’t quite put
our finger on it-
out on the edge of vision.
One from the archives:
a moment in march 03/07/04
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