Category: journal
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The End.
Well, here we are. It has been nearly ten months since my latest post, and that is because in that time my family and I were packing up our house, selling it and moving across country. It’s been about eight months since we’ve moved to our new hometown in Illinois. It was very hard for…
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Filling Space
Down an auxiliary street in the industrial park cars and RVs line the curb By afternoon parking enforcement brings a a tow to clear out those that are being used to sleep in. Those being used to live a life, to cook over dying flames. Next morning the empty spaces are already being filled in…
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productivity
To turn a fellow bloggers phrasing, had an Odd Driving Thought today… (the link is there, so you should go check him out) Today’s productivity is the results of yesterday’s Focus, willingness to adapt the routine, and care and attention for the present moment. I’d better put it to good use. And the poem that…
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Out
Speak what you think today in hard words and tomorrow speak what you think in hard words again, though it contradict everything you said today. Ralph Waldo Emerson, Self-Reliance Out for a walk and I realize that everything I know to be fact, through careful scientific observation, has been told to me. The things that…
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I only write when I’m hungry
I only want to write on an empty stomach, so to feel the urgency of hunger. I will sit with only five minutes left on the clock and write ceaselessly to see what it is that’s important to me. To know the pains clearly. To feel the heart beating.
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Seeing Clearly
If seeing clearly is the goal, why is it then that every time I see my conditioning clearly I muddy it in the days that follow. Muddied by thought, by my search to know more, until its nearly forgotten. If it wasn’t for this ground that holds all activity the insight wouldn’t bubble back to…
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On Poetry (again)
To be able to write poetry successfully I have to do two things: give in to the experience. And give up assigning value to words; stay true to the story; give in to the music within the word. By giving in to the experience of course I mean the experience that gives rise to poetry,…
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Sunday Morning Reverie
I woke up this morning to a wrinkled face in the sheets staring back at me, mouth open in sleep. I thought maybe it is the sheets memory of you, and this its performing art.Or is it my performing art and the sheet my stage? I like the way you look when you’re sleeping, because…
Daniel J Flosi is Consumed 