Who, if I cried out, would hear me among the angels'
hierarchies? and even if one of them suddenly
pressed me against his heart, I would perish
in the embrace of his stronger existence.
For beauty is nothing but the beginning of terror
which we are barely able to endure and are awed
because it serenely disdains to annihilate us.
Each single angel is terrifying.
And so I force myself, swallow and hold back
the surging call of my dark sobbing.
......
War is never over
Thought the treaties may be signed
The memories of the battles
Are forever in our minds
War is never over
So when you welcome heroes home
Remember in their minds they hold
Memories known to them alone
......
The evening advances, then withdraws again
Leaving our cups and books like islands on the floor.
We are drifting, you and I,
As far from another as the young heroes
Of these two novels we have just laid down.
For that is happiness: to wander alone
Surrounded by the same moon, whose tides remind us of ourselves,
Our distances, and what we leave behind.
The lamp left on, the curtains letting in the light.
These things were promises. No doubt we will come back to them.
......
1.
Oh yes, friend! I'm crazy-
that's just the way I am.
2.
I see sounds,
I hear sights,
I taste smells,
I touch not heaven but things from the underworld,
things people do not believe exist,
......
i woke up in a haze
a fog foreshadowing
a reunion
with the unexplainable
unescapable
unclear
nature of life
i sailed my bike in the storm
screamed in terror and delight
hoping to outrun my demons
......
I had named my verbose parrot Sunny, as he filled my world with sunshine;
For when someone truly touches the heart, you often must give some sign.
I habitually called him 'Sun' for short, and we had become best of friends,
Like the friendship nature cherishes, with all the vibrant beauty she tends.
Sunny and I loved watching old crime movies, the same ones, repeatedly.
Funny Sunny would often get his two cents in, mimicking villains heatedly!
How I enjoyed those bits of hilarity from my bird, who was golden yellow,
......
i woke up in a haze
a fog foreshadowing
a reunion
with the unexplainable
unescapable
unclear
nature of life
i sailed my bike in the storm
screamed in terror and delight
hoping to outrun my demons
......
Children are people,
Like adults they have feelings.
No matter their age,
They are human beings.
Listen to them.
Let them know that you care.
Lend them your ear.
And for them just be there.
You may not understand the issues brought up.
Silly drama to you or school-house gossip.
......
The Hero tried to save the world,
Plunging into chaos
With clever words,
He gave them clarity
And stole the lights from their eyes.
The Hero's hero became the Villian
Trying to save the Hero
With desperation,
And a game of cat and mouse
......
So .
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