My Muse My Mentor

A bounce off of a line in a poem by Cynthia of Poemflesh.

"My Muse My Mentor"

An inspiring,
Example,
A light in,
The early morn,
An answer,
To a question,
I did,
Not know,
To ask,
But,
From your heart,
I learn...

:)
peace

Meteor Struck

Meteor struck,
Shelter,
Shelter,
From the storm?

A kiss,
With weight,
Of love, lust, and need,

So much at once would break a lesser woman and create a lesser poem. :)
--------------------
The poem from which this one reflected
http://poemflesh2.blogspot.com/2011/08/butterfly-girls.html
WEdneSdaY'S cHiLd by Cynthia

Onions?

A person,
Is like an onion,
And the layers,
Are that,
Which has been placed,
To hide the sweet sweet heart,
From all but the true.


In response to a piece by Cynthia

On a piece of Frost

Love is always shot,
Through,
With that salt,
Which joy never lacks.
Happy needs unhappy,
Heart to be warmed,
A sharpened shard of,
A hardened throbbing heart,
At home in it’s lovers breast be.

I believe I wrote this in response to one of Cynthia's haiku.

A reflection Poem

Is the rain
Ruling your heart
Those drops
Are springtime's start
No need for saddness
As the flowers in all
Their radness
Will help you enjoy the sun.

Another one on Perspective

Lessons Learned

One of life's,
Main lessons learned,
Is the pain by which,
Perspective's earned.

Muse

MUSE

A cafe to share remembrances,
And in the corner,
The lurking shadow of truth.
The muse,
Within the heart,
Never dies,
Or fade,
It is we,
Who erode and accumulate….

I wrote this in response to the line by Illyria, “the pay’s reliable. muses get old. they die.”

The scene of the accident

A memory

Flowering potted plants,
Glowingly growing among,
Shards of shattered glass,
A memory of pain,
Thankful,
For,
Today.

A year ago a friend was driving towards her home and had an accident in which the vehicle rolled several times. Just the other day she recounted her experience walking past the place. As she walked by the scene of broken glass she spotted potted plants flowering. She said it both saddened and lifted her. Apparently others had died there in similar accidents and the flowers were planted in memory. :)

No Peace/No profit #2

Prophet's Profit

It never,
Is the prophets,
Who,
From altruism,
Profits,
I doubt any,
Of the many,
True prophets of,
Humanity,
Ever had as,
A primary,
Motivation,
The acquisition of power,
For just the sake of power.

Reflection on a Haiku

Sadness
Is not
Like a poison
I believe
It is more
A bitter bitter fruit
That must
Be eaten for
The necessary nourishment
It provides....

Shared sadness is enriching and proof we are possessed of hearts.

Prophet's Profit?

No Peace/No profit #1

It never,

Is the prophets,

Who,

From their altruism,

Profits,

I doubt,

That any,

Of the many,

True prophets of,

Humanity,

Ever had,

As,

Their primary,

Motivation,

The acquisition of,

Power,

For just the sake of power.

An old Poem rediscovered.

So many beautiful pieces.
I believe the heart of a poet is lit,
By the heat of the sun on one side,
And the other cooled by the moon,
And poetry is,
What comes from their soul,
As they slowly freeze/cook,
Over and over and over,
Again.

peace

A Responce to Gulnaz

Some folks,
Hold fast to,
Their pain,
Like,
It's a blanket.

Sore comfort,
That harsh fabric,
Covering ones eyes,
With only,
The bad things,
Mad things,
And hurt.

There is too much anger/hate/fear in humanity and I fear it bodes ill for the future.
peace

Blogging

I have noticed as I am sure you have that blogging has lost a bit of it's creative magnetism.
I attribute it to the popularity of Facebook, Twitter, and the other social network systems.
I don't believe though that they can truly offer the kind of audience that a blog can, not so much in numbers but in interest.
Take for example our friend illyria and that site. We do not go to that site to read about that person's last bowel movement, we go to that site to read that which has been created, in short "Art."
I am on FB but it does not give me the satisfaction that blogging does and I dont put into my blog when I last got drunk or whether the show that featured Ozzie losing his voice. By all means FB and Tweet, but don't forget where your Art is. :)
peace out!
And if you can't peace out then PISS OFF! :)

Words

Work work work.....
God I hate working for my dreams by way of prostituting myself to another's.
Most of my time is spent laboring for their dreams and what little time is left for me I can barely afford to spend what remains of the ink of my imagination I can barely see the paper upon which I so desire to journey.
There is in this world a missing part I dont know if it is a wheel, a cog, a lever, a hidden micro switch, or an ancient string of words from a dead language I just know that it is missing and without we are lost to live lives of many dull monochrome moments with a few fragments of bright and shiny to taunt us.
If I find that missing part would you my dearest friends clear a path to the place it belongs.

Self examination

I was just sitting here looking over my scribbling and noticed that I rarely write something that is not a reflection of someonelse's writing, someone's writing from out here in the electroverse.
Is this OK?
OK Owen Wilson that was a classroom reading.
Trans-Illyria
Gulnaz
Cocaine Jesus
Ruksak
Misti
... etc
Aw well have a great day!

What Painful Hope?

What painful-hope can be found in,
A bomb strapped to a child-heart,
By an angry-loving father,
Sent to visit those others,
Called not fit to be brothers,
Paradise-promised by one who talks to his god,
I find such a cruel and hateful deity,
Deserves not worship but pity,
No pious supplication,
Only intense renunciation,
And it’s idols ground to dust.

Singularity! SINGULARITY!

More evidence that we have arrived in the pre-singularity phase.....
New Scientist once again gives a story that indicates that Computers are being delegated more and more of the knuts and bolts of society..... WAR. The title says it all.
Full text of article @ http://www.newscientist.com/article/dn17332-plan-to-teach-military-robots-the-rules-of-war.html

Evidence of Impending Singularity?

Robot scientist makes discoveries without human help
by Kurt Kleiner in New Scientist Magazine
A robot scientist that can generate its own hypotheses and run experiments to test them has made its first real scientific discoveries. Dubbed Adam, the robot is the handiwork of researchers at Aberystwyth University and the University of Cambridge in the UK. All by itself it discovered new functions for a number of genes in Saccharomyces cerevisiae, aka brewer's yeast.

Full text of article @ http://www.newscientist.com/article/dn16890-robot-scientist-makes-discoveries-without-human-help.html

Some background

The Coming Technological Singularity:
by Vernor Vinge presented to NASA
Abstract

Within thirty years, we will have the technological means to create superhuman intelligence. Shortly after, the human era will be ended. Is such progress avoidable? If not to be avoided, can events be guided so that we may survive? These questions are investigated. Some possible answers (and some further dangers) are presented.


Full text of article @ http://www-rohan.sdsu.edu/faculty/vinge/misc/singularity.html

A letter to an angry god

God said "Stop asking so many questions, believe only in me and stop doubting, be loyal to the church, and stop being such a butthead to your fellow humans, because if you dont we are going to have to re-evaluate our relationship."

- I am now and always will be full of questions.
- Because the answers to these questions are so few and far between I am also full of doubt.
- My loyalty must be earned it will not be given freely.
-An unflinching faith in a being who does not have a corporeal form is as dangerous a practice as believing in an ordinary man or woman of clay.
- The violence, greed, and heartlessness displayed by my fellow humans is an expression of the compounded frustrations of the present added on to the pains of the past both created by trying to overcome a bad design.

In responce to another CJ posting on his site.

There is in the dust

There is in the dust,
of our more active days,
words left unsaid,
I find them by listening,
to the voices,
of distant friends,
over electric presses,
that never stop.

There is always one of the blogging multitude that has the right word to waken what is for the moment sleeping.
Peace