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Showing posts from October, 2012

Saturday Song Salute (and a poem!)

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It's Saturday morning, cold and miserable rain is what I see through my window. I wanted to go for a walk, but instead I think I'll stay in and write a blog. I already wrote a poem this morning, so I guess I'll begin by sharing it: without the rain as I sit here with my shoulder to the rain, with my heart flung open like a notebook scarred by scribbles, I think of you, here now, with your soft neck pressed against my lips. I peer out at the falling droplets finding temporary homes on blades of grass, on folded flowers, on fence posts, in pavement puddles and I wonder how many times they splat the exact same spot. life is like that; we are like that. our pasts fold over, our mistakes repeat. but we discover happiness in the answers we find in between, though we're still learning to grow, to become, to erase the parts of who were were (and didn't need to be). as I sit here I think about these things and realize I love you as I love life, t

It's The Money, Lebowski

If you have the time (and interest) I have uploaded two audio clips for your ears. Both clips share a common theme: how the banking industry has spoiled our society. In the first clip (apx. 40 minutes) you will hear Stefan Molyneux discuss his thoughts on how the criminal actions of bankers and government have negatively affected college students, and in the second clip (apx. 13 minutes) you'll hear Cenk Uygur talk about two recent news stories involving bankers getting away with theft and crime. The first story especially affected me while I listened to it at work this morning, seeing how I know someone currently spending a great deal of money and time in the pursuit of higher education, and who is also well aware of the crumbling society in which we reside (in part, much thanks to me). Well I don't really have anything else to say except, hope you enjoy. Here are the two clips:

Where Did The Writer Go?

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This will be a life update post because, well, there's a lot to be said. I'm not even sure how to begin this really. (fast forward to later in the morning) Okay, I just wrote a poem over at my poetry site (couldn't get into a groove here) so I'll kick off this blog post by sharing it: our minds crawl our minds crawl into the strangest of holes leaving the light that warms us at the surface to enter a dark place of hidden mystery. we crawl forth, like babes across soft carpet, crawling to where comfort ends and the cold uncertainty of tile begins. most stop here, but some continue on and find themselves wearing the button(s) of their god(s) on their lapel, or lipstick from another lover's dream. the holes lose shape the deeper you go, become less rounded, surrounded by the roots of trees. many stop here, few continue on to the undercurrent of our emotional existence, that network of connectivity that reads like a poem, transform