”Twas said
To be or not to be
But we insist
To do or not to do
Is our mantra
With least regret
So as we spiral
Down to death
And do our best
To be content
May we see the
Irony of our intent
That what we do is what we be.
”Twas said
To be or not to be
But we insist
To do or not to do
Is our mantra
With least regret
So as we spiral
Down to death
And do our best
To be content
May we see the
Irony of our intent
That what we do is what we be.
You were built from the stones
No proof needed, open ended
But before you go off aimlessly
Wandering through the forests
Of sandalwood, and high places
I will take off my glasses
Watchful as a big cat
For the sound of footprints
Lest on too close sight, I miss this
Darling illusion, which struck fear and terror into me.
The art of losing is not too hard to master
I desired my dust to eventually mingle with yours
Anticipating the splash,
The forsaken cry , Â a rock skipped on water
Rippling, then smoothing the Holy surfaces
Knowing that I have left mine too late
Misjudged your frailties
What draws friends together
To never be alone forever.
I am stuck in concrete walls/Â nothing natural / I press the remote button / nature sounds emanate / from the lonely TV / stretched out on the wall.
Crickets, bird songs, cicadas trill / basking in the warm summer sun /not real / but the memories of real / somehow soothe my soul.
The sonorous splash of waves / that beat upon the shore / the screech of hungry gulls / intersperse the musical crescendos / seed heads of wind tossed crabgrass jiggle / the surfer intently gliding /all crashing down /to silence.
My heart aches / for the generations to come / who will have no real memory / and are forever stuck /beating against concrete walls.
One day I will find the right words, and they will be simple.â Â Â Jack Kerouac, The Dharma Bumsâ
I can identify with Jack. Sometimes in an attempt to find the right words that will allow me to communicate with you, dear readers,  I find myself with nothing to say. Nothing. Sometimes that makes my friends and family nervous. Because itâs  not that I donât have words. I have tons of words. Words that weave and dance, that caress and cajole but usually they are more complicated than I wish. I occasionally need to look for simple.
So I went to the sea, Cuba. Sunshine. Sand. Sleep.
Simple.
I went to the sea today
Raised finger tips
to sun kissed lips
Tasted the salt
Of a thousand tears
Words that have never been heard
 Just evaporated, disappeared.
~I feel recharged. We are and then we are not. Simple as that. đ«
Vcl©ïž
Don’t worry, we aren’t decorating for autumn in our home quite yet, but it was fun pulling a few things out the other day when I was rearranging the storage room. I was excited to find my box of pumpkin carvers. It is an art in our family and we look forward to the pre-planning …picking the design, finding the right pumpkin, exploring new ideas and dream of spice and everything nice.
Wait for more fun pics đ friends.
But first Iâm packing those suitcases I dragged from the storage room with summer clothing and flip flops.
Yeah Cuba….see you soon!â€ïž