the spells of itapuã

Steve weaving his usual and unique magic.

inconstant light

lost_shorelines_s

Thought bubbles must be punctured gently,
deflated with a fine molecular needle.

-/-

She lets me do the shopping at the markets,
the hens are in my charge, I sweep the floors,
but I’m a prisoner in her house.

On the crooked kitchen shelving, potions bright,
alluring clues, magic herbs and condiments.
To prepare Bahian fish, she says.

Her eyes are jungle camouflage, her tidal laughter
breaks in waves when nothing is amusing,
mysteries are woven in her hair.

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Depression Sucks.

For my dear friends who struggle with this, (and I have too) and for the people who love you, important words so beautifully and honestly expressed.

Strong Humble Warriors

I don’t want to talk.

I need rest.

I need silence.

The thoughts in my mind are overwhelming. They won’t stop. My life is a constant battle of outside voices competing with internal thoughts. It’s too much.

I don’t know how, but I need rest.

I’m lonely, but I can’t silence the storm of thoughts in my mind when another voice is in my ear; so I shut everyone out and feel relieved when they finally walk away.

I don’t mean to hurt feelings, but I need silence.

I don’t want anyone around because the tension that radiates from their discomfort with silence is even worse than being forced to talk.

I know they mean well, but I need rest.

I don’t need to lay down in the sense that it’s been a long day. I need to disappear for a while in the sense that it could be fatal…

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e=mc2

Maria, this is beautiful. Thanks for putting such eloquence to something it’s hard to find words for.

DoodleScribbles

no-future-girl-balloon-by-banksye=mc2

what do the children say
about special relativity?
when they neither had
a space to live and
a time to be free?

when past, present and future
were never in their grasp
when limbs, tears and blood
were all that they have

ask them an equation
they only have one:
the end is equivalent to the
mass of people multiplied by
the square of the speed of bomb

© 2017 Maria. All Rights Reserved.


In response to dVerse’s Open Link Night hosted by Grace.

This piece is also inspired Bjorn’s prompt at Toads.  The photo above is from Banksy. In 2010, Banksy did another version of his Balloon Girl with a monochrome child, spray-painted on the wall of a private house in Bevois Valley, Southampton, England.

 My heart bleeds for the people of Syria, especially the children. The alleged gas attack from Assad regime in a rebel-held town…

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Soul stirring music

I can’t help sharing this. I love cello music and these clips are incredible… Thanks so much Raili

soulgifts - Telling Tales

Charley’s  post  over at Crazy Life reminded just how much I love listening to the deep tones of the cello. So I hunted down a few video clips to share with you.

Did you know that the cello’s four strings are tuned in perfect fifths? That’s pretty important in the world of music. Here’s why –

The perfect fifth is the most important interval in tonal harmony… and it is used for tuning string instruments. It is a constituent interval for the fundamental chords of tonal harmony.” Wikipedia

I even found a Finnish cello metal band called Apocalyptica ! The band is composed of classically trained cellists, graduates of the Sibelius Academy in Helsinki,  and a drummer.

 The cello’s low pitch is only beaten by that of the double bass. And here it is for comparison.

March 2017 Soul Gifting goes to Elaine’s Bloggers Paradise for being my…

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Whilst Sitting In The Park, I Discovered True Love

If you need a little light right now...
A gorgeous read, thanks Timere 😊

(Edit, Dec, 2017. With heaviness of heart 
I must add now, that the admins of this blog have 
simply disappeared from the blogosphere, without a trace. 
But this post is lovely, and I live in hope that 
Timere  is safe and well!)

On The Other Side Of Darkness

old-couple

I was sitting in the park after work yesterday, reading a book and enjoying the weather, when an older couple came toddling up.  They were so adorable.  They were holding hands and giggling together.  He asked if they could share the bench with me and I said, “Absolutely” figuring they wanted to rest for a bit then toddle on.  He took out his kerchief and dusted off the bench for her to sit down.  What a gentleman!

Honestly, watching this couple (out of the corner of my eye so as not to appear creepy or stalkery) was like watching to grey haired, wrinkly teenagers in love.  No, they didn’t grope each other or me.  As they sat there, I just couldn’t help myself, I had to ask “How long have you been married?”  She looked at me with a huge smile and said, “We married the day he got home…

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The Daily Song: Ordinary World/Joy Williams (Duran Duran)

Brave & Reckless

This haunting cover of Duran Duran’s Ordinary World vibrated through my bones this morning like it contained secret messages about the world, about my life,that I was meant to decode.  Messages of haunting sadness, things lost, inner strength found. What did this stir for you?



Ordinary World

Came in from a rainy Thursday on the avenue
Thought I heard you talking softly.
I turned on the lights, the TV and the radio
Still I can’t escape the ghost of you
What has happened to it all?
Crazy, some’d say,
Where is the life that I recognize?
Gone away
But I won’t cry for yesterday, there’s an ordinary world,
Somehow I have to find.
And as I try to make my way, to the ordinary world
I will learn to survive.
Passion or coincidence once prompted you to say
“Pride will tear us both apart”
Well now pride’s gone out the…

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Restored.

Something else I can’t not share. Profoundly moved by this…by the gorgeous heart of Phoebe. Thanks for sharing your beauty sweet Doctor 😍

Phoebe, MD: Medicine & Poetry

Immortalized
within counterfeit fibers
of a petrified forest
are your sorrows
weighed with silt,
swallowed by shadows
of its own valley,
silenced beneath
the porcelain surface
of a visage pristine.

Banish them.
Let your tears cathartic
burn
these cheeks of mine.
Scour them with scars
of an ancient past
of an ache relived.
Let me bear the dusk
until from the womb,
emerged pure as
the morning dew,
is our love renewed.

7749081576_f256dba668

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days by numbers

I so love Steve’s work!

inconstant light

storied glass and steel

Three ghosts are in the hall. On the cable
internet outside, two currawongs are pecking,
but the mysteries of past and present,
of calendars, dates and numbers are best
left for numerical processors.

When time was thick and sweet and I couldn’t breathe,
when you wept and left me wondering,
when the blue of clouds and day was painted
on the land to resist the night’s temptations,
I could start six lines and finish them,
know what I’d just said and order wine.

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Vicissitudes

Poesy plus Polemics

vicissitudes “Vicissitudes” by Delia Dante

was a time
youthful calculus
plotted the changes
of infinitesimals
bent to the influent
arcs of trajectory
functional points
differentially aimed
at a future
some semblance of
personal
private success

was a time
before octadic bits
became bytes
of electrons
when slide-rules
were moved
by an analog mind
with derivative
notions of
how to conduce
a pragmatic
perfectible life

was a time
of naïve disposition
unwary that life
has its own
independent volition
it moves along
unforeseen paths
unexpected directions
unknown destinations
its integral quotients
converging in
arrant surprise

was a time
many miles many years
of organic mathematics
divide the incipient
dream from its destiny
tangent adventures
oblique with
vicissitudes exercised
muscles of character
standing a man
the boy never
could know

now is time
for brash inverse
of theorem
for certainty summed
by survival of scars
earned contentment
despite analytics
a fortune of memories

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