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Showing posts from May, 2021

A Poet's Journal: February 20th, 2015

  February 20th, 2015 How much of our day is determined by the first few moments after we wake?  And how much have we already decided of ourselves when we are ready to step out from our place of rest?  There is some importance in asking this.  We like to believe that the place of rest holds some physical comfort that we can come back to in time, remaining unchanged, because we ourselves have spent the day going from one thing to another.  But there is always this underlying fixation that what is far from us is truly the thing that will bring us the most support.  The moment that I find myself confronted with something that I can't get around, whether it be plans, obligations, or simply self-imposed rules, I immediately think to something far away, something I don't have that I want, something that I could use, something that I could read; this is the reward for the effort. There is never really enough time for us to be a part of these things, we only use them to get something e

A Poet's Journal: February 16th, 2015

  February 16th, 2015 Dreams are enough to make us believe that our own personal view of the world is somehow the secret underlying meaning for which all things happen.  They are the confidence which renders meager doubt into absolute truth and hesitation into full-on action.  But none of us will admit that dreams are reality, that they are not illusion, nor that they are always positive, and yet time and again we are told to live by them, to follow them, and to play the role which we have fictionalized in our heads. Though it is separate in our understanding, the dreams of sleep and the emanations of our waking hours, are but one and the same.  There is even a certain pleasure in pondering if the exotic nature of our dreams holds a meaning to the current situation of our lives.  Such is the wonderment of recognizing the imaginative play of the real and the illusory, or the duality that seems to balance out life, because somewhere within the dream we believe there is a reality at which