Are we ever truly quiet throughout? If the mind is a home, the eyes windows to the outside world, then who resides within? You? Or something else? Ever so prevalent is the haunting feeling of the "other". Compelling piece. Thank you for sharing.
hm, reading Thursday on Sunday... time travel... I've been wandering through my own thoughts in this way for a couple months, for me an example of "be careful what you ponder about." What I thought I was planning to do for the next two years... after focused thought... doesn't turn out to be that, but something different, something I'm now looking for the "first step starting point"...now I can't go back, rats. Staying centered, folding in the silence, keeping the compass in hand, I think I'll find it, I just need to be patient, something I still haven't learned. That's what your write today has sparked in me Chris, thanks. BTW it better not be instant coffee. lol
What daffodils were to Wordsworth, coffee is to this poet, that is a symbol, an inspirational touch stone representing what he has to say. Here, coffee making sets off thoughts about the busyness of the world. Ceaseless movement, alliteratively described, points to its absurdity, but also, unexpectedly to its poignancy as the movement is towards some goal, possibly, usually, unrealised. In contrast to the noise and bustle, there is an inward silence that is watchful of the external world. But this does not represent some fixed untroubled identity. It daren't even answer its own question: Is it too an empty...chair? For to do so may well nullify its very existence. And yet, as snow has different shades of grey, silence can be differentiated - there is quiet and there is silence. We can either listen or we can hear. In a wonderful analogy to the creative process itself, the poet finds his voice, or relocates it as the poem ends with the uniqueness of his consciousness.
Ooooooooooooooooooooooooo k... as I non-chalantly just edge the coffee cup bit-by-bit out of view of.. read moreOoooooooooooooooooooooooo k... as I non-chalantly just edge the coffee cup bit-by-bit out of view of the webcam that really is off but just maybe I got hacked - or not...
...yes... uh...ooooh k... now think onit...think...
on it...
nah
Hi Henry... what you up to?
10 Years Ago
Fine thanks...Great poem
10 Years Ago
hehehehehe.. that's me - Joe Shmoe...
Coffee is a life's blood that holds a poet to th.. read morehehehehehe.. that's me - Joe Shmoe...
Coffee is a life's blood that holds a poet to the reality of his/her perception and thereby anchors the senses to what could or at least should be. And yet the eyes ...it IS the eyes that continually move - digest - move again pause and focus with intent and thus "sees" that which is there but in a depth and with a view that becomes uniquely personal. Yes, I teased you but not meanly... from YOU "Great Poem" really means more than mere paragraphs of words - to me. And I do thank you.
Sounds like those days of being shut in because the weather keeps us inside, and we have no choice--but to be inside--cut off from the world.
A restless time with stirrings of want, or longing for freedom because it is not there.
Not being able to relax enough to concentrate on other things that we could be doing instead of pondering our situation.
I know this feeling that you are conveying through your writing here.
There is always "A" moment inside your moments, each and everytime, you pause , we pause, waiting waiting watching for what? exactly, we see you there with your singluar cup, people stop by and clutter up the sink, they come and they go, all with a message for the day, for the constant hot pot, the warmth of your heart and hearth.
as you make your coffee
by the cup
i proffer up
many hundreds
morning rush
the people gush
to alleviate their boredom
day by day
the game is played
the illusion takes effect
what is this life
that i have made
inroads i see yet
walking at a steady pace
falling off the path
scrambling back up once again
... so many questions yet to ask
Posted 10 Years Ago
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10 Years Ago
I like the sense of the words flow and how it speaks WITH but not To - me. And ALWAYS so many sight.. read moreI like the sense of the words flow and how it speaks WITH but not To - me. And ALWAYS so many sights to taste, comprehend, and pause. YOU are ever welcome here...
10 Years Ago
i shall find myself a comfy sofa then ... and a few cushions too :) xx
"Life is a terminal disease." All the doctors have basically told me so.
"Life is an adventure... Pain, well you deal. Thanks for being here. 06/21/2020
I'm back and working on. I've been.. more..