Twilight hush amidst the room;
a voice, rising through the shadow throng
commits the universe to notes
and I, swooning through the grace of logic, rise
drifted on the captivated stars
onto the mystic sea, glittering in
transcendental mysticism fires
that will not be bound by flesh:
a word, they say, a notion
but in that heaving sky
the rush of majesty;
souls which lie
When you are young
belief is hard
but it is hard like death
creeping from the birthing room
featureless among the lives
its sadness would compensate
energy that caresses old noblesse
but never will its time oblige.
“I am enough of an artist to draw freely upon my imagination. Imagination is more important than knowledge. Knowledge is limited. Imagination encircles the world.”
~ Albert Einstein
“I have no special talents. I am only passionately curious.”
Not all of us have the inherent genius, nor the training for all that we would like. Some us are, sad as it may seem to those without, better at certain things than others. But it is also the beauty of the human experience that this can be made up for by another quality, one that Einstein knew well: curiosity.
The drive to investigate, to learn, to poke and poke until the curtain falls is more than mere persistence, mere stubbornness–it’s a passion. While it may prove the longer route, its results are also often the most satisfying. For in indulging our curiosity, we work our minds and our bodies, push ourselves to unravel the secrets of the world, and impart on us the talents to engage them. Will it always pan out? Of course not. I could investigate the workings of higher math functions day-in and day-out, but I dare say the ever-increasing layers of calculus will not unravel before me.
If you want to learn something, though–if something calls to you from heart or mind–then do not hold that curiosity back. It killed the cat–doesn’t mean it will kill you. Unless, of course, you want to learn how to properly lick an outlet. At that point, there’s nothing any of us can do for you.
Yet I will add this point: nothing–hear me: nothing–stirs creativity, like curiosity.
“The larger the island of knowledge, the longer the shoreline of wonder.”
~Ralph W. Sockman
Beneath our hungry shore
between life and grass
more skin blossoms.
Leap off moon–
man is wild,
* My latest submission for the great gathering of international poets known as One Shot Wednesday. Short but sweet, and more than little cooky to more than a few of you, I’m sure, I give unto you “A Gambol Song”, my latest bit of free verse.
This week’s theme: Responsibility. Can you dig it?
“A man sooner or later discovers that he is the master-gardener of his soul, the director of his life.”
‘”It’s a question of discipline,” the little prince told me later on. “When you’ve finished washing and dressing each morning, you must tend your planet.”‘
~Antoine de Saint-Exupéry, The Little Prince, 1943, translated from French by Richard Howard
“Most of us can read the writing on the wall; we just assume it’s addressed to someone else.“
And, for a touch of humor on the matter:
“Responsibility: A detachable burden easily shifted to the shoulders of God, Fate, Fortune, Luck or one’s neighbor. In the days of astrology it was customary to unload it upon a star.“
~Ambrose Bierce, The Devil’s Dictionary
Beneath the microscope
the organism of
wisdoms in non-judgment
to the scope of everything.
* My latest contribution to the wonderful One Shot Poetry Wednesdays! Once you’ve had a look, check out some of the other One Shot Poets as well–they’re a skilled bunch of poets, with a strong and supportive community. Enjoy! And while you’re at it – vote for us in the Shorty Awards…we have a chance to take Number 1 in Art!
Photo by Danielle Kelly, "Coney Island Mermaid Parade"
Veiled visions copulate
Between realities of bodies
Grinding against the backdrop
Eternity laid bare before the gown,
East meet West under the shade
Of world watching, still unseen
Mulling mass forget: I am.
* A response to the photo prompt from One Shoot Sunday at One Stop Poetry and the talented Danielle Kelly, a New York photographer I recently interviewed. For the interview, the prompt and a whole mess of lovely photography and poetic replies, give One Stop a look!
Shooting stars for luck
Tiny fire braille heralds truth
Yet always: falling.
Keeping to a “short but sweet” theme that seems to be overarching my poetry this week, I give you a Haiku. Enjoy:
Never seen Mountains;
the inner is higher than
without: nothing known.
Posted in conjunction with the Thursday Poets Rally.
And by the by, as a part of that, I nominate Kavita! Read any of her stuff. You’ll quickly figure out why.