Monday, February 25, 2008



There is a method for disassembly. There is one for assembly. There are myriad others in between. 

I am a stranger to them.


The most beautiful thing in the world is the world itself.


What more does one need?


There is the thrill of glimpsing the vast timescales of the geological processes. The vast numbers of years and ages and creatures. Not to mention the galaxies. The worlds and numberless stars and numberless experiments made in no one's name at all.


We are all grist for the mill.


make no mistake about that.


yet we are given the beauty of a sunset. of the sea. of our own flesh. of kisses and numberless kisses of our beloved.

riches rain upon us like disasters.


we are all of us undone.



Anonymous Anonymous said...

riches rain upon us like disasters

that is one beautiful line.

it implies that what feeds us also
crucifies us...and that is the god's
honest truth, because it's brief

and because
we know it's brief.

3:47 PM  
Blogger ButtonHole said...

Or, as WS sez, Sonnet 73:

In me thou see'st the glowing of such fire, / That on the ashes of his youth doth lie, / As the deathbed whereon it must expire, /
Consumed with that which it was nourished by.

5:10 PM  
Blogger LKD said...

Dude, consider yourself Tagged

9:01 PM  
Blogger Christine said...

Is Anxity another form of anxiety, or is a greek word I'm too dumb to understand?

7:28 AM  

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