I’m going to be posting less often over the summer. I think so, anyway.
Why?
I have a couple of irons in the fire, among other reasons:
(more…)there be lions
That is what one gets when one listens to rumors.
Rumors lead to hope. And “hope”, as the song goes, “is no good”. You would think we would not learn to base our decisions on hope. That is what we get for thinking, as my grandmother was fond of saying.
Better to put that bear to slumber once again. Help him to hibernate and sleep this long, cold winter of the soul away, away.
We can try to explain but the words come out all wrong and we speak of pain, people think we like it here. Ever the tears to hide, slip on a smile — wooden and hollow — and give in to the dreaming on.
Even if… there be lions. Ever and hungry.
To like/comment:
there be lions
underneath
Photo by pedram ahmadi on Unsplash the peopling ages raw
meat hook hanging
— don't pretend to kiss me,
this savage morning hurts
let me dance the razor's edge
the deaf talk my broken digits
the blind point my way home
underneath, i weary stoneTo like/comment:
underneath
toll
Photo by Alla Kemelmakher on Unsplash how lonely the tolling of
the bell sans clapper
as come those mists of
yon forest valeTo like/comment:
toll
