Death, Friends, Life, Living, Love, Lovers, Muses, Resilience, Terese, Teresums

The Rebirth

To my friend, Terese Bozdas.

Once I stood on the trembling ice
Of a mountain torrent in winter
Surrounded by granite boulders
And dared the wild waters to drown me.

I had lost my wife.
I had lost my home.
I had lost my hopes.
I had lost my dreams.
And I dared the wild ice
Beneath me to break.

It is curious how you can sometimes
Be so numb the desire to die
Is the only thing
That makes you feel alive.

It was only when you came to me
Some years later

Singing songs of friendship,
Singing songs of compassion,

That I felt at last
The rebirth, the renewal
Of Spring.

Anupriya Kumari, Authenticity, Being True To Yourself, Death, Eudaimonia, Free Spirit, Goals, Human Nature, Ideas, Impermance, Josh, Life, Living, Meaning, Nature, Play, Purpose, Quality of Life, Self-Flourishing, Spirituality, The Art of Living Well, Well Being

The Meaning and Purpose of Defiance

EXECUTIVE SUMMARY:  Paul offers his views on the meaning and purpose of life.

THE CRITICS EJACULATE! “The Grand Fraud of Blogging American, Paul Sunstone, excretes his opinions about the meaning and purpose of life in what can only be considered a shameless act of public urination.  Life is fully terrifying enough without the addition of his muddled and confused vision for embracing it.  I must insist upon the return of the guillotine.  I must insist upon the return of justice to our world.” — Aloyse Leblanc, Le Critique Passionné de Blog, “La Tribune Linville”, Linville, France.

Continue reading “The Meaning and Purpose of Defiance”

Agape, Alyssa Holmes, Anupriya Kumari, Authenticity, Being True To Yourself, Death, Eudaimonia, Friends, Human Nature, Jane Paterson Basil, Life, Living, Love, Lovers, Marysa, Muses, Nature, Passion, Philos, Poetry, Quality of Life, Relationships, Resilience, Self-Flourishing, Shreya Vikram, Terese, Teresums, The Art of Living Well, Unconditional Love, Well Being

I Will Sing Songs to the Ice

(About a 3 minute read)

i.

Something huge fell against my door last night.
Something crashed the silence of the night.

When I was calm enough to look through my window
I saw a tired stag with a broken leg
Struggling to rise.

It failed at first, but then, with horrendous effort,
At last gained its feet.

Last night I saw a tired stag with a broken leg
Slowly cross my yard, pausing every few feet,
Perhaps to ease the pain.

The fur on its back was tuffed up and disturbed
Like the stag had been pounced on and in a fight.

Last night I saw a tired stag with a broken leg.
Last night I saw a tired stag with a broken leg.
Last night I saw a tired stag.

ii.

You are comely and beautiful.
Your still-satin skin glows
In the grace of youth.

You are comely and beautiful.
Your life opens towards the future
Like petals spreading in the morning sun.

You are comely and beautiful.
Your mind roars over the rocks
Like a crystal cold mountain stream.

You are comely and beautiful.
Your heart yearns for the heights of love
Like an eagle for the sky.

You are comely and beautiful.
Your still-satin skin covers sleek muscles
Covers sleek muscles and unbroken bones.

You are comely and beautiful.
I watch you as you take my breath away.

iii.

Tonight, I can hear the cracking of the ice
Beneath my feet.

Tonight, I can hear the cracking of the ice.

My winter is half run.
At 62, my winter is half run
And my life now thaws
Into your spring.
Rushes over boulders into your spring.

I have loved you more purely and more passionately
Than you in your youth might know.

I have loved you with eyes that see well beyond yours.
I have loved you until my heart
Has broken and been reborn.

Tonight, I can hear the cracking of the ice.
Tonight, I can hear the cracking of the ice
Beneath my feet.

So tonight, I will sing songs to the spring.

“You can fly higher, my love,
You can fly further than you think.

“You can fly higher, my love,
You can fly more beautifully than you think.

“You can fly higher, my love,
You can fly to intimacy with the sky.”

Tonight, I can hear the cracking of the ice
Beneath my feet.

And so tonight, I will put on heavy skins
And sing songs to the ice
Before my fall.

Tonight, I will sing songs to the ice,
And I will put on heavy skins.


Curious readers might want to check out Sharon’s poem, Struggles on the Ground.  It strikes me as having themes related to this poem’s themes.

Adelia, Coffee Shop Stories, Conversation, Death, Free Spirit, Friends, Grief, Human Nature, Impermance, Life, Living, Loneliness, People, Relationships, Resilience, Sadness

Adelia

(About a 6 minute read)

I heard from Adelia yesterday for the first time in over six years.  “Hi! How are you?”, her email said. Adelia, young woman of a thousand words.

She no longer lives in town so my chances of having a nostalgic beer or two with her in Red Rock Canyon this weekend are greatly diminished from the old days.  She grew up in Red Rock before the City claimed it for a public park.  Back in the days when Red Rock was a haven for outlaws.

Continue reading “Adelia”

Abuse, Agape, Alienation, Attached Love, Authenticity, Bad Ideas, Being True To Yourself, Cultural Traits, Culture, Death, Emotional Dependency, Ethics, Human Nature, Ideas, Infatuation, Judgementalism, Life, Living, Love, Lovers, Marysa, Morality, Morals, New Love, Oppression, Passion, People, Poetry, Possessiveness, Relationships, Romantic Love, Society, Spiritual Alienation, Spirituality, Tara Lynn, Terese, Teresums, The Spanish Woman, Truth, Unconditional Love, Wisdom

A Death in the Spring

This poem is dedicated to Majel Campbell, an admired and esteemed friend, and to Terese Bozdas and Marysa Storm, who were its graceful muses. The poem can be thought of as a true, novella-length story of a young woman’s betrayal and murder by a false man who she believed loved her. I was myself a nearby witness to the events recounted in the poem, but powerless to alter or prevent the triumph of evil.

The two core themes of the poem are the nature of love and the nature of evil.

◊◊◊

“An amazing journey of love, evil, truth and wisdom.” — Teresums

“I’m blown away!! Such an epic, beautiful poem, yet so sad! Truly among your best!”  — Scott

Continue reading “A Death in the Spring”

Art, Authenticity, Being True To Yourself, Community, Courage, Death, Dying, Hate, Honesty, Human Nature, Humor, Life, Living, People, Poetry, Quality of Life, Relationships, Self, Self Identity, Self Image, Society, Values, Whining, Wisdom

A Flock of Sparrows for Majel: The Bitch Next Door

A Flock of Sparrows for Majel

“I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself. A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough without ever having felt sorry for itself.” — D. H. Lawrence

(About a 19 minute read)

A strong woman with a singular passion in life
Once consented to become my neighbor.

Her spirit ran as simple and deep as a law of nature.
It was elegant in its simplicity, but ruling in its scope.

She was younger than me,
Younger than about half of us folks,
But she held herself truer,
Truer than most everyone does,
To her passion in life,
Her singular and sole passion in life,
Her one guiding star.

She loved and adored,
She cherished and adored,
She passionately adored,
Being a bitch.
Continue reading “A Flock of Sparrows for Majel: The Bitch Next Door”

Bad Ideas, Community, Cultural Traits, Culture, Death, Dying, Ethics, Human Nature, Ideas, John McCain, Life, Meaning, Morality, Morals, News and Current Events, Obligations to Society, Politics, Society, Values

“Speak No Ill of the Dead”

(About a 3 minute read)

The recent death and funeral of John McCain has once again raised a debate about the propriety of speaking ill of the dead.  Naturally, the loudest voices have belonged to partisan pundits who can be expected to flip their opinions — pro and con — when the next prominent Democrat dies.

But I think a lot of common people are concerned with the issue too.  How fair is it to criticize the dead?  If it’s fair at all, then does our criticism have limits?  And if so, what should those limits be?

Continue reading ““Speak No Ill of the Dead””