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Whispers from a Dead Poet
There is no dusk to be,There is no dawn that was,Only there’s now, and now,And the wind in the grass. Days I remember ofNow in my heart, are now;Days that I dream will bloomWhite the peach bough. Dying shall never beNow in the windy grass;Now under shooken leavesDeath never was.– Archibald MacLeish, An Eternity I…
The Next Thing
Some ideas grab you and you can’t put them down until they’re finished, and then you sense them glowing in the fibers of your being like the smell of ozone after an electrical storm. Sparks of imagination fire off in your brain like lightning in a summer storm. Inevitably in writing I get so excited…
Election Day, United States
Polls open at 7 this morning, but I’m awake at 5 AM ready to go. I run through a list of necessary chores like folding laundry and taking the trash bin to the curb for pick-up. Glancing up I see Venus shining through the leftover clouds to remind the waning gibbous moon that it isn’t…
What’s a More Soulful Way to Live?
“What’s a more soulful way to live? What’s a way that I can benefit from the dynamism and prosperity of American society without having to play by these rules that keep us in a holding pattern?” – Rolf Potts, from his Deviate podcast Leave it to Rolf Potts to ask the question. The question that drives…
Quicksand and Tasks of Consequence
“Bad writing is almost always a love poem addressed by the self to the self.” Toby Litt “The more books we read, the clearer it becomes that the true function of a writer is to produce a masterpiece and that no other task is of any consequence.” – Cyril Connolly The time we spend, these…