“Detail of the Lion Armour of French king Henry II, 500 years old.”
French kings were considered to be God’s representative, and to have healing powers.
(Leila L’Abate)
* * * *
Literature was born not the day when a boy crying wolf, wolf came running out of the Neanderthal valley with a big gray wolf at his heels: literature was born on the day when a boy came crying wolf, wolf and there was no wolf behind him. That the poor little fellow because he lied too often was finally eaten up by a real beast is quite incidental. But here is what is important. Between the wolf in the tall grass and the wolf in the tall story there is a shimmering go-between. That go-between, that prism, is the art of literature.
-Vladimir Nabokov :: [Life is Poetry]
[alive on all channels]
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Human Existence
Traveling after wiping a lot of sweat
To experience thrills and their existence
Wondering what more could have done
Until energy drains up and gone
Questions to questions to questions
Making good and bad decisions
Leading down to what you think which deserves
Its never enough where it’s just stories and soils
No such thing as salvation
Fear eats up the whole meaning of whole
You’ll build what you are and what you can do
Reality stands your way but can you say no? No?
Destiny is just a word, an illusion
Your story is in your hands, just fight on
No matter what the ripper says
It’s the default of our lives, lets boost it
No, a lot shits no makes sense
Nothing will make sense
Where your focus is on the wrong place
It should be in what’s in front of your face
Stop finding the happiness that is not working
Start finding the happiness that will make you say “I’m glad, I kept on living”
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The hawk screams in the canapy of the oak. Below him, the cardinals flutter in fear and anger, calling sharp, staccato warnings.
God sent the rain and a moment of coolness. I baked the cookies and bacon, spreading homey delight with scent of relief.
Beauty is home, there to see if we only look up and take a deep breath.
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Heal yourself, save your life
It is something only you can guide
It ain’t sweetness, support, or understanding
It ain’t enough to keep on fighting
We both know that doesn’t work at all
It’s like a missing key to your wake-up call
It’s not us, your loved ones, nor your family
You have to find it yourself, somewhere in your memory
Only you can find it
Only you can do it
Only you will win it
Only you can retrieve it
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I've laughed with friends, talked to my parents, watered plants, chased away a sales man, put fresh sheets on the bed, brewed tea, made bread.
Life is good, even when you're fatigued and brain-fogged.
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