Trumping the widow

Ambitiosii agitati. In vremuri de rapide prefaceri sau de radicale rasturnari, ai prilejul de a vedea numai oameni care se inghesuie spre intiiul plan al vietii publice. Sunt, de obicei, aceiasi care s-au inghesuit si ieri. Sunt indivizi care se vor vazuti in orice imprejurari si care nu suporta gandul de a sta cel putin catva timp in umbra sau macar in penumbra. Un asemenea individ, cind ii este dat sa vada, de pilda, o inmormintare, este in stare sa invidieze pe vaduva celui mort: ca ea – si nu el – este intiia persoana care urmeaza dricului.”

Lucian Blaga 1945 Discobolul

sleep

Dream yourself a mosquito, find a way through, then bite yourself.

Dream yourself a mosquito, find a way through, then bite the sleeping figure.

 

 

I’d always choose insomnia

For it is better rated.

More wakeful time, more reason to arrange thy words.

To make your reader tremble,

To give him dreams of her.

 

She’s cool to touch

Like sleeping in the snow and waking,

But not quite.

To dream you go to sleep and I shall follow,

For only then we’ll be as one.

 

panic attacks

It is within our hands... It hovers over our heads...

It is within our hands…
It hovers over our heads…

 

 

Man your lungs, my friend, for here it comes:

The Big Swell.

You don’t breathe, I don’t breathe,

Yet we’re breathing too fast.

 

My pulse is racing ahead,

Whose body am I inhabiting?

I am besides myself with fear,

With fear that I’m still trapped inside my skin

My skin is pushing,

I’m being re-born and I father myself,

I have no mother and this biological impossibility gnaws at me.

 

Reason returns, and with it, a name-tag, to hide the fear.

The fear that in the Beginning there was nothing

And then, conveniently, came the Word.

Let’s hide together?

 

only darkness blowing

Can we step outside the Cave?

Can we step outside the Cave?

I felt the walls crumbling,

I sensed my being crawling.

I do not exist:

I merely am what you want me to be.

 

If ink shall tell the story,

It will not be my story.

This pen takes over: It’s writing!

There is no one out there to stop it.

only darkness blowing

Belief in the reality you pay attention to

What you see is what it means.

What you see is what it means. Do you see what I mean?

William James, in 1894, said:

“A thing may be presented to a man a hundred times, but if he persistently fails to notice it, it cannot be said to enter his experience”

Which may explain The Varieties of Religious Experience, isn’t it?

To have and to hold

Therefore I write bad poetry

Rapping rhapsodies of representations, remonstrations, and ruminations.

I’ve been meaning to ask you.

Half-way through, I stopped for your answer:

To start anew, or to finish the question?

Perhaps this silence makes half of the answer.

 

I feel like water seeping through your cloth.

Did I soak your body in a warm embrace?

As the dry wind carried me away I prayed

That you’d cry and lend me your tears

In the river we’d flow.

 

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[For the non-Japanese speaker: This is a tutorial on how to improve English reading skills using Internet resources to find content you’re actually interested in / can understand; it’s part of my Customised Interaction Approach]

 

お願い: 英語の勉強で悩んでいる方々で、このビデオ教材が役に立ったと評価されたら、知人などに共有して頂ければと思います。