Deleteduserrc

This would be the day: a few small drops of rain, A dab of this, a touch of eau-de-cologne air As long as it's suggestive. And it Mounts, a serenade, ...

New Poem : Robin Hood's Barn

But commemorates Because it does define, after all: Gray garlands, that threesome Waiting for the light to change, Air lifting the hair of one Upside ...

If one could seize America Or at least a fine forgetfulness That seeps into our outline Defining our volumes with a stain That is fleeting too

A veil of haze protects this Long-ago afternoon forgotten by everybody In this photograph, most of them now Sucked screaming through old age and death...

new poem: City Afternoon

With ourselves. They are empty as cupboards. To spend whole days drenched in them, waiting for the next whisper, For the word in the next room. This i...

Four quotes, with the fourth interrupting the third, resisting it. (Kierkegaard, Homer, Hesse, Ashbery, then Hesse again) “I feel as a chessman must w...

One interesting thing about chess is that everything is structured around taking the king, but the king is never taken. The game ends, both players ex...

I want to go back, out of the bad stories, But there's always the possibility that the next one... No, it's another almond tree, or a ring-swallowing ...

@"apokrisis" First: welcome back. Second: edit: objection: badgering. Sustained, stricken from the record.

To segue off of this into a maybe meta-forum line-of-thinking: what is the place for this kind of unqualified speculation? On the one hand, it's foolh...

With the caveat again that most of the detail has faded for me, it feels to me like the causality is backward In Hofstadter. I’m far from familiar fro...

As long as the night allows" This was one of those night rainbows In negative color. As we advance, it retreats; we see We are now far into a cave, mu...

The trees weep drops Into the water at night. Slowly couples gather. She looks into his eyes. "It would not be good To be left alone." He: I'll stay

Pomp of flowers, decorations Junked next day. Now look out of the window. The sky is clear and bland. The wrong kind of day For business or games, or ...

I’m glad it resonated so strongly! (I have read Steppenwolf but so long ago now it’s sadly faded.) I have a hunch a lot of people, especially here on ...

I agree. The image I have is of trying to climb out of a swamp, all wrapped up in reeds that keep pulling you back into it. I especially like the idea...

Sometimes a musical phrase would perfectly sum up The mood of a moment. One of those lovelorn sonatas For wind instruments was riding past on a solemn...

The steadfast tin soldier gazed beyond the drops Remembering the hat-shaped paper boat, that soon..." That's not it either. Think about the long summe...

Es war einmal...No, it's too heavy To be said. Besides, you aren't paying attention any more. How shall I put it? "The rain thundered on the uneven re...

New Poem: Märchenbilder

Snow was the last thing he'd expected. Sun, and the kiss of far, unfamiliar lands, Harsh accents though strangely kind And now from the unbuttoned cor...

@"Judaka" & @"Brett" - thank you for the thoughtful responses. Just realized the time and have to go to sleep before responding, but I will tomorrow.

So, building on that, the part of the essay that most jumped out at me was this: I like this. I think it directs us back to how we first think of caus...

I haven't, but I did read Godel, Escher, Bach back in the day (before I was ready for it, tbh). It really impacted me, despite not grokking everything...

Only partially a response to your last post in particular, but I am interested in this conversation (read & enjoyed the OP paper) and have some though...

Related, crude theological ideas: --Alan Watts often comes back to a central idea: The ego cannot change itself. It often pretends to disintegrate its...

At night, orange mists. The sun has killed a trillion of 'em And it keeps stretching back, impossible planets. How do I know? I'm lost. It says its na...

This was to be forgotten, eliminated From history. But time is a garden wherein Memories thrive monstrously until They become the vagrant flowering of...

The inert lifeless mass calls out into space: Seven long years and the wall hasn't been built yet The crust thickens, the back of everything... Cluste...

New Poem: Suite

As when the songs start to go Not much can be done about it. Waiting In vanilla corridors for an austere Young nurse to appear, an opaque glass vase o...

Yes, but - there are no "yes, but"s. The body is what this is all about and it disperses In sheeted fragments, all somewhere around But difficult to r...

And then? Colors and names of colors. The knowledge of you a certain color had? The whole song bag, the eternal oom-pah refrain? Street scenes? A blur...

New Poem: No Way of Knowing

Process of a red stripe through much whiplash of environmental sweepstakes misinterprets slabs as they come forward. A footprint directs traffic in th...

New Poem : Sand Pail

Yet we are alone too and that's sad isn't it Yet you are meant to be alone at least part of the time You must be in order to work and yet it always se...

:cool: I'll take quality sass over sclerotic pessimism threads any day.

I don't want to get into the antinatalist weeds. Read that as an incapacity to meet the force of the antinatalist argument if you will. Count me as on...

I hesitate to raise this point here, because I by and large agree with what you're saying, but.... I don't have a good grasp on Lyotard, but his The D...

As always, my position is: if it's broke, and you can't fix it, then fantasies of fixing it are....fantasies. I no longer believe suffering is meaning...