There was sun today and serpents,
toiling in the earth
and walking though dew-wet grass.
There was hope in brilliant skies
and a half-promise of tomorrow.
There is no luck or merit
in this calm procession of life;
I keep to the shadows,
drawing no fire,
unlike those not afraid to speak,
who point out the way of light.
No luck or virtue in survival,
only the fear of being noticed
and marked down for the dark.
Ramblings of an Irish ecologist and gardener
Poetry of a changing Earth. The grief is real--so is the hope.
Inspiring others through the written word, fictional blurbs & documenting my writing process from scratch.
occasional musings of an itinerant seanchaí polishing his craft online
The Things That Are In My Head.
offbeat words for you...
Just writing what's on my mind
AS HUMILDES OPINIÕES DE UMA MULHER DE CORAGEM QUE DIZ SIM À VIDA!
And so it goes...
My journey through photography
Inspiration and Spirituality **Award Free**
≈ fictionalpaper / piccoloscissors / creativeglue ≈
Philosophy is all about being curious, asking basic questions. And it can be fun!
Not a literary magazine for ordinary times, but a journal for an exceptional one. Writing the pandemic, together. Image, Somewhere in Time by Hengki Lee: Instagram @hengki_lee
Running in the slow lane
It started as a 366 - now a regular Photoblog- just for the love of taking photos and sharing them.
I'll talk you'll talk we'll talk
Promoting mindful living
A r t w o r k . . . f r o m . . . . . . H a m b u r g . . . . . . . . . . . . . G e r m a n y
October and November 2019
"Words are all we have" Samuel Beckett.
sharing the stories of interconnection
Jottings of a Storyhound
Anita Dawes & Jaye Marie
Just another blog of random thoughts.
Artist by choice, photographer by default, poet by accident.
lines that aim to be
And then I stop and sit and eat.
Wow! Is it still hunting season?
It only started the beginning of September. It ends end of February.
In the poem I was thinking (for once) about another kind of violence. There are so many.
Oh dear. Now I want to know – I’ll read the poem again.
It maybe didn’t make the news in your part of the world but on Friday a school teacher was decapitated by a Muslim vigilante because he had dared to try and teach his precious charges about freedom of expression. The teacher had been denounced by a group of parents (guess which) for racism, islamophobia, blasphemy etc etc and the education administration had told him to stop teaching what might offend Muslim sensibilities otherwise he would be sanctioned. Hypocrisy, and supine submission to the diktats of obscurantists.
It did make the news here but I didn’t link the poem to that event. One sees or reads where one is at, in other words, a very subjective insight. It is of course terrible. Freedom of expression is very different to the freedom to practice (any) religion.
It could be read to apply to lots of things, it’s true. There is going to be big trouble over this. The anger is getting focused and it’s on the associations, political and social movements that have been screaming facho and racist at anyone who disagrees with the diktats of Islam. I’ve never understood how the left has managed to get itself entangled with the obscurantists, defending the indefensible, but the fact is, they have, and the extreme right are going to have a field day.
It doesn’t take much, sadly, to draw the ire of people bent on suppression and destruction.
No, you’re right. It seems as though the only way to keep out of their way is to abdicate all principles.
The last stanza is ominous. A living reality.
It seems as though there is no political spine. Hypocrisy rules.
Yes, it does.
All too concerned with keeping their seat on the gravy train.