you spend 8 hours a day surfing the web
and 8 hours sleeping
and 8 hours doing stuff
that’s, er,15,000 readers of one / lots of / poem(s) every suncircle.
And we thought Shakespeare’s Puck and Ariel were fiction?
Similar Posts
today, O My Beloved,
there was no such worduntil today; today, there is..to say, I’m eager for youwould be to say,less than, I am…when it’s I am, andwhich you are, O My Beloved,that eagers…nor do I recognise eagerness..how can I, if it’s not me?no, today, it’s an active word…what else might I say?to say I long, makes it soundthat…
Friends, in the name of God,
next to the sewer pipe;so I might hear in the morningthe casks delivered in the yardand in the eveningthe waters of contentment.*(Paraphrased from an Arab poem of the 8th century)
(said to have been found on a Sumerian clay tablet)
have sanctioned this,had I known about it…Right now, I’m lookingfor a fall guywho didn’t carrya voice recorder..’
This is an angry poem.
which blow like paper in the streetgoing nowhere,hiding truth,helping us todeceive ourselves.‘The pee-yus pro-sayus’ –say it in the Irish voiceof obscurantist politiciansoften enoughand we’ll accept it as a term,and believe that it needs hard workand forward planningand careful progressand compromiseand agreementsand initiativesand ‘generous’ concessionsand declarations of intentionand cautious examinationof opponents’ motivesin the ‘battle’ for peaceand…
What I always say is
you can’t always remember whatwhat you always say is
Who am I?
Why am I here?What should I do?Who will tell me who I am?Who will tell me, who put me here?Who will tell me, why I’m here,and tell me then, what I should do? ..Sometimes, I am all thankfulnessfor what keeps all of me alive;is there a greater one whom I may thank?And sometimes, I’m alive…