Sunday Whirl – The Root of Heaven – April 7, 2016

Slipping through silk threads of grace
Witness this rare and  endless root.
It came from inside the deepest earth
With a claim – that for but one brief moment
Erotic pleasure and illumination will blossom.
Feed not then upon crass empty illusions,
Here is the heaven of which men speak.

April 6, 2016

 

Wordle 245

The Sunday Whirl – Quatrain – January 31, 2016

Walk alone with no following
Along the thin red line of life
Seek ancient rites of hallowing
Relieve this universal strife.

Cross the tight rope before it falls,
With a flair (look you to the right) –
Seek the signs hear the mighty calls
On the bridge which rose in the night.

And when the moment is mature,
Recite the spells and drink the brew
(Though the rites seem to you obscure)
Don’t hesitate – and now adieu!

© G.s.k. ‘16

 

 

Wordle 236

Sunday Whirl – September 6, 2015

chirping on a tree
the robin eats a fat worm
in an amber orb
the worm lived a secret life
in its scented foster home

fruitful apple tree
need not stop or worry
birds will deal with rot

speak to me of fall
and its seasonal delights
stop and observe
the easy life of birds
the miracle of life

soon a memory
summer’s cornucopia
full of fruit and worms
and early morning chirping
of hunting birds at dawn

 

Oh Radiant Youth – August 6, 2015

– Alexandre Deschaumes

Oh radiant youth –
standing on the verge of life
heedless before life’s perils
he sails down the open river
mindless of the shallows
he can’t wait to get his teeth
into the meat of life
radiant he walks without a mask
(that will only emerge later)
soon he learns his bones can break
soon he learns those perils
as he walks the lonely track
that many walked before him …
then longing for serenity
after those first of life’s battles
he collapses into reflection
of the what life has thus revealed …
will he become a cynic,
will he be a saint,
or will he be yet another drifter
living from day-to-day?

© G.s.k. ‘15

Photo Challenge #72, Verge

AND

The Sunday Whirl – 210

Sunday Whirl – Gene Machines – March 18, 2015

 

“We are survival machines – robot vehicles blindly programmed to preserve the selfish molecules known as genes. This is a truth which still fills me with astonishment.” Richard Dawkins

 

dry rustling leaves
upon a deck in spring
the whole season’s ’bout to bloom
ah – life is in blossom again …

don’t be plagued dear friend
that you were born because of genes
don’t think of it as blasphemy
that monkeys are our kin

why worry if you’re a gene machine
that keeps life’s genes afloat
(I found it more disquieting
to think I was a cell of god)

Richard Dawkins is so eloquent
when he talks of dawning life
but I like his scientific work far more
then his philosophic fluff

I’ll just look at our world and sigh
at the sweet beauty that is life
enjoying this opportunity
to breath in this morning sun

dry rustling leaves turning
pages of scientific books
I’ll not shed a tear
worrying about what is life.
Living is enough!

© G.sk. ‘15

My husband was reading ‘The Selfish Gene’ recently and at one point he says that Richard Dawkins more or less states that since the first gene appeared it has been promoting itself making the process of evolution possible.  Of course the gene has no project or plan … just a constant urge towards survival and because the genes who can reproduce themselves best survive, they organize themselves into various complex organisms which has insured their existence and their reproduction throughout the billions of years since life began on earth – therefore all life is just a complex vehicle for the propagation of said genes. This idea rather sobered the man … “it’s not I who reproduces, but genes!” The sensation I got was that he felt rather used by said genes … but if they’re mindless et al … “Hey!” I said, “in the end, what’s really changed?  We’ve always been gene machines … so what?”

In the final analysis my point of view is … so what?

Whether we are a mass of atoms, molecules, proteins or genes etc. that in no way changes the me that is me.  I was born in the 50s and when I went to school I was introduced to the idea of genes, atoms and the primordial broth that somehow, without rhyme or reason, generated life.  Not having a religious background, I never worried that god wasn’t part of the scheme and I’ve never considered humanity as anything more than a part of the whole thing we call life.   I’ve always been curious though; how did that first spark, that spark that became known as the Big Bang, come about.   I’m not worried about the origin of organic life also because in the end, whether one agrees with this or that theory, we just don’t know how it all began and really, so what, why the flap?

 The Sunday Whirl Wordle Words are: rustling, tear, blasphemy, sweet deck plague, born, dry , monkeys, whole, keep

 

 

This post is linked to the Sunday Whirl.

Sunday Whirl – (ABAB Rhyme Scheme – Wordle) – March 10, 2015

The Origins of Man

trample on the elephant
knead the wind with want
is it really all that relevant
to be so nonchalant?

in this club of craven images
we trip on string of fluff
no stage but just a cinema
where nothings ever enough

we begin with those excuses,
planted in our brain
that in the end produces
an empty life-long refrain

these empty images that sting
of an awkward senseless logic
make us lose the sight of spring
of gentle love and magic

ah – those cosmic meditations with they’re sting of awkward logic
is the drive behind our trip on this lonely train so tragic
the fact is that it’s all a lie and an emotional illusion
we try to reach a goal … born in the shrouds of long dead words
uttered by some alpha ominide who lived in a cave in Spain …

© G.s.k. ‘15

Two Quotes by Douglas Adams

” Part of how we come to take command of our world, to take command of our environment, to make these tools by which we’re able to do this, is we ask ourselves questions about it the whole time. So this man starts to ask himself questions. “This world,” he says, “so who made it?” Now, of course he thinks that, because he makes things himself. So he’s looking for someone who would have made this world. He says, “Well, so who would have made this world? Well, it must be something a little like me.Obviously much much bigger. And necessarily invisible. But he would have made it. Now why did he make it?” Now we always ask ourselves “why?” because we look for intention around us; because we always intend – we do something with intention. We boil an egg in order to eat it. So we look at the rocks, and we look at the trees, and we wonder what intention is here even though it doesn’t have intention. “

“If we think that the world is here for us we will continue to destroy it the way we have been destroying it, because we think we can do no harm.”

Parrots, the Universe and Everything (2001)

 

 

trample, club, images, sting, string, trip, begin, plant, excuses, drive, knead, wind

 

Linked to Sunday Whirl – Wordle 202

Sunday Whirl with Poetweet – March 1, 2015

 

Credits: Istituto Superiore Enrico Fermi (Fermitutti)

Through her granite veins
circles a ghost of fear
with empty names
it howls within her flesh
giving weight to her anorexia
and her table phobia.

Through, circle, veins, granite, fear, ghost, names, howl, empty, flesh, table, weight … these are the words for Brenda’s Sunday Whirl Wordle number 201!

Which I’ve put together in a Poetweet an interesting form of poetry introduced to our Jen (The J of BJ) by thotpurge for this  week’s Mindlovemisery’s BJ and Shadorma and Beyond!

Blue Hopeless Day – Free Verse/Wordle – February 23, 2015

 

Lucas Grogan. Skeleton for MLMM.

 

 

blue … blue as a hopeless day
walking in the rain without an umbrella,
he thought of bright red poppy fields –
where delicate tiny petals mutated
turning into opium pods .-
yearning for that substance,
uncut and potent,
he perched on a tree
down by the flowing river
drifting inside a dream
of peace
he’d long forgotten …
the yearning became pain –
a long hopeless silent cry of wracking pain …
it rent his soul from his body
as he fell in the water
to be washed out to sea.
blue … blue as a hopeless day
I took him with me that day.

© G.s.k. 15

§§§§

Sunday Whirl Wordle:  blue, post, hopeless, perched, umbrella, petals, delicate, tiny, uncut, river, yearning

Mindlovemisery’s Menagerie – Tale Weaver Prompt

Whirling Wordleing … February 20, 2015

whirling in cyberspace
on cue – I wrestle with a memory
of an angel …
its saintly life
destroyed by science,
the crack in its faith, called relativity –
empty – it could no longer dance
on the head of a pin,
the pebble-like consistency of atoms
became great wayward mountains
blocking its act in its tracts
the angel held its head low in shame
what good is the faith of an angel
in a realm of perfection?

Sunday Whirl – January 26, 2015

 

It might be trite to say
That my aim is miles away
From scorching other bloggers
For the way they spell their words.
I don’t have a Nazi spirit,
Not even for spelling mistakes
Maybe I just have a mind
That likes a harmonious chime.
I won’t sign my life away
If you spell daye for day ..
For I consider the land where you live,
Besides once, that spelling was right.

© G.s.k. ‘15

trite, aim, miles, scorch, spell, spirit, words, maybe, chime, mind, sign, land

Sunday Whirl – Worlde Prompt.