Walking Cross-Town. With little ones.


3:30 a.m. yesterday. Saw this photo and froze.

This THIS is the world our children live in today.

Look at her. Those eyes. Those little shoes.

Precious is tucked in close to Dad who is buying tickets for the show.

And then the scene darkens, a conjoining of rivers with Catherine Abbey Hodges’ closing lines in “How to Begin“: “You’re a strand of dark thread sticking a word to a river. Then another.

Manchester. 22 dead. Women, children, soft targets. UK terror threat raised to Critical. 1000 troops deployed.

Dear Ms. Hodges, is the question How to Begin?

Or is it, How does it end? [Read more…]

Saturday Morning

dog-pet-cute

O let me lift it, ever so slightly.
It hangs before me—ever—heavy, motionless—
this curtain which veils the future.
Let me just hold a corner up and peep beyond.
Then maybe I shall be content.

~
Katherine Mansfield, dated Sept 2, 1907 from Delphi Complete Works of Katherine Mansfield

 


Notes: Quote: The Value of Soul Making. Photo: Kulturtava

Are you listening?

Sad, sobering but beautiful.  “The photographer and filmmaker Katy Grannan travels around America to capture the nation’s mood in 2016.”

Lightly child, lightly.

rob-woodcox-surreal-angel
perhaps one day
we’ll understand:
why it hurts to be here,
and there,
and then.

— Kimberly Grey, from “Conjugating in The Opposite of Light: Poems


Notes:

  • Sources: Poem – Hidden Landscape. Photo – Rob Woodcox from Surreal
  • Prior “Lightly child, lightly” Posts? Connect here.
  • Post Title & Inspiration: Aldous Huxley: “It’s dark because you are trying too hard. Lightly child, lightly. Learn to do everything lightly. Yes, feel lightly even though you’re feeling deeply. Just lightly let things happen and lightly cope with them.”

 

Monday Morning: Flashflashflashes

choose-balloons-anka-zhuravleva

The light beyond my eyes flashflashflashes
with a hundred futures for me.
Doctor.
Ship’s captain.
Forest ranger.
Librarian.
Beloved of that man or that women or those children or those people who voted for me or who painted my picture.
Poet.
Acrobat.
Engineer.
Friend.
Guardian.
Avenging whirlwind.
A million futures –
not all pretty,
not all long,
but all of them mine.
I do have a choice.

— Laurie Halse AndersonWintergirls


Notes:

Lightly child, lightly.

close-up-face-eye-freckles-portrait
It
Troubles me that time should make things sweeter, that
Instead of learning to perceive things as they are I’ve
Learned to lose them, or to see them as they disappear
Into the insubstantial future. Everything here is mine,
Or lies within my power to accept. I want to find a way
To live inside each moment as it comes, then let it go
Before it breaks up in regret or disillusionment.

~ John Koethe, from “Between the Lines,” North Point North: New and Selected Poems


Notes:

  • Photo: via Mennyfox55. Poem: The Distance Between Two Doors
  • Prior “Lightly child, lightly” Posts? Connect here.
  • Post Title & Inspiration: Aldous Huxley: “It’s dark because you are trying too hard. Lightly child, lightly. Learn to do everything lightly. Yes, feel lightly even though you’re feeling deeply. Just lightly let things happen and lightly cope with them.”

Sound of the drums / Beatin’ in my heart / I’m Thunderstruck

storm-art-pursuit

Joan of Arc was not stuck at a crossroads…
she chose a path,
and went down it like a thunderbolt.

~ G. K. Chesterton, Orthodoxy


Notes:

  • Credits: Quote Source: Thank you Mme Scherzo. Image: Mennyfox55
  • Post title Inspired by AC/DC’s Thunderstruck: I was caught / In the middle of a railroad track. (Thunder) / I looked round / And I knew there was no turning back (Thunder) / My mind raced / And I thought what could I do (Thunder) / And I knew / There was no help, no help from you (Thunder) / Sound of the drums / Beatin’ in my heart

Here. But There.

Robert-creeley-poem-there

~ Robert Creeley,  Pieces in The Collected Poems of Robert Creeley, 1945-1975, Volume 1


Source: invisiblestories.

Bangbangbangbangbang

woodpecker

A very small woodpecker is beating his brains out against a piece of metal on the telephone pole across the street. Bangbangbangbangbang. I stand underneath. “There are no bugs in there,” I call up to him, “you’re going to blunt your beak,” but he keeps hammering away. We have a lot of woodpeckers. Great big ones, and the noise they make is very loud. Maybe this poor baby thinks he’s doing it right. There’s a lesson in this somewhere, and I hope I’ve already learned it.

~ Abigail Thomas, What Comes Next and How to Like It: A Memoir


Notes:

holding it at arm’s length, clutching its shoulders

photography,black and white

You’ve seen the way in which a woman chooses a dress from her closet, then stands before a mirror, holding it at arm’s length, clutching its shoulders as if it were a son she is sending to war, looking him up and down and then drawing him close and pressing him against her breast. And then she sees herself embracing him, and smiles, the two of them looking so perfect together, full of such hope, facing the future.

~ Ted Kooser, The Wheeling Year: A Poet’s Field Book


Photograph:  Drowned in Daydreams

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