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– your brain may go, some parts naturally

– your knees may go, or some part ambulatory

– your eyes may go, may go more readily

– your nerves may go, shattering steadily

– your focus may go, it may go atrophy

– your hands may go, you pick up happily

– your joints may go, you click up dandily

– your prost may go, you mop up nappily

– your faith may go, you anger rapidly

– your heart may go, you snap back scarily

– your hold may go, you dance some other way

– your life may go, may will must any day

– your things will die, we dust them anyway

– your world will cry, we dry those eyes away

– your end will come, we fly those lies away..

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The Art of Losing

Posted: September 26, 2014 in Emerson Challenge

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Lose something every day.
Accept the fluster of lost door keys, the hour badly spent
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

Then practice losing farther, losing faster:
places, and names, and where it was you meant to travel.
None of these will bring disaster.

I lost my mother’s watch. And look!
My last, or next-to-last, of three loved houses went.
The art of losing isn’t hard to master.

I lost two cities, lovely ones. And, vaster,
some realms I owned, two rivers, a continent.
I miss them, but it wasn’t a disaster.

Even losing you (the joking voice, a gesture I love)
I shan’t have lied. It’s evident
the art of losing’s not too hard to master
though it may look like (Write it!) like disaster.

——-

– Elizabeth Bishop

It Gets Weird

Posted: September 24, 2014 in Muse

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You remember where I said I was going to explain about life buddy.

Well the thing about life is, it gets weird. People are always talking to you about truth, everybody always knows what truth is, like it was toilet paper or something and they got a supply in the closet.

But what you learn as you get older, there ain’t no truth. All there is, is bullshit. Pardon my vulgarity here. Layers of it. One layer of bullshit on top of another. And what you do in life, like when you get older is, you pick the layer of bullshit you prefer, and that’s your bullshit, so to speak.

You got that?

indoor cats

Posted: September 24, 2014 in Emerson Challenge

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– once the writer in every individual comes to life (and that time is not far off), we are in for an age of universal deafness and lack of understanding.

heiwaboke: stupified with peace, lit. ‘peace + addled.’. 

– we’ve become a nation of indoor cats, we used to bury our dead and move on.

– not-knowing is the most intimate way. Not-knowing keeps all the possibilities open. It keeps all the worlds alive.

– the visitors I safeguard are wrecking my zoo.

– what new perversions would a soul invent in order to distract itself from the constant threat of ennui.

– it does not do to rely too much on silent majorities, for silence is a fragile thing. One loud noise and it is gone.

– unborn twin murmured: go to the lake.

Blue Rose

Posted: September 23, 2014 in Emerson Challenge

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– love and indifference
– the civilised and the savage

– compassion and cruelty, overwhelming beauty and shattering ugliness, every possible human and natural quality teemed within it, seethed there, then expanded beyond our capacity for understanding, therefore unbearable

– it too was beautiful, too glorious, also too furious, too destructive, and too utterly unknowable to be contemplated for even a second.

– The Great Mystery and The Final Secret is that we cannot tolerate The Great Mystery and The Final Secret.

to Hell with creativity

Posted: September 19, 2014 in Emerson Challenge

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– to Hell with creativity

– creativity is for God

– work is what you are obliged to do

– the rest is Play

– Go, Play

pilgrimage

Posted: September 18, 2014 in Muse

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– I was of the age when old women wake up bedbound

– To discover their last day of moving around as they wished had been the day before

– And they hadn’t even known it.