Honestly, I'm a Liar, & Other Balances & Imbalances

August 9, 2017

DON’T YOU..

Filed under: Uncategorized — namelessneed @ 9:50 am

 

 

August 1, 2017

Jeanne Moreau Shares Once More

Filed under: Uncategorized — namelessneed @ 4:57 am

 

 

July 28, 2017

TUNNEL BUT REMEMBER TO BREATHE

Filed under: Uncategorized — namelessneed @ 8:43 am

Positano, ItalyAgnes Alsua Molyvos, Lesvos, GreeceJay21310 credit Bonn, GermanyAdas Meliauskas credit Tunnel Of Love, Romania, Caras-severin descoperaromania.org credit Stockholm, Sweden Hector Melo credit Valencia, Spainvisitheworld.tumblr credit Grafton, Nsw Australia owenwilson credit Nafplio, Peloponnese, Greece Wilson Lu credit Cullinan, South Africa Elizabeth Kendall credit Spello, ItalyNicoletta credit Taiwan Sue Hsu credit Bamboo […]

via The Most Magical Streets Shaded By Flowers And Trees — FLOW ART STATION

July 25, 2017

MR. MARSHALL McLUHAN

Filed under: Uncategorized — namelessneed @ 11:24 am

“Everything happens at once. There’s no continuity, there’s no connection, there’s no follow through. It’s just all now.” – Marshall McLuhan Over 50 years ago, well before the birth of the web as we know it, Marshall McLuhan considered the coming electronic environment and it’s impact on our culture and the nature of understanding. A […]

via The medium is…. — View From the Ledge

June 22, 2017

SURF’S UP

Filed under: Uncategorized — namelessneed @ 7:49 am

 

 

 

 

enjoy yr summer getaways

June 8, 2017

Amen, Brother

Filed under: Uncategorized — namelessneed @ 8:52 am

 

 

 

May 29, 2017

STARES AND A LOOK

Filed under: fragments, lost, POEM, poetry, prose, Uncategorized — Tags: , , , — namelessneed @ 2:28 pm

 

 

S T A R E S

Where is the wound that shines?

Well Over 50 years on

Over this  his day, on?

My Back  way against all this memorial day shite  here

I’ll intentionally send me  to a ill-shielded shy there,

Back at  again to that  day where

I’m Far  too young  to fathom,

Or even  notice  yr. crevasse,

Yr  Grande Malaise,

Yr. countdown…Yr. Pass.

It makes me madly think now

It takes  the saddest thing    to tell now..

Stuck in a stack of old NewYorkers

There’s this raw cartoon drawing;

A mere boy  drawn in black & white

Stands on a step of his own basement,  stares,

He did look down on his own  livid  apocalypse,

His lips, and the caption say

“It’s  A.O.K.”

.

Here is the wound that shines

Tonight, a glint off yr. cracked onyx ring.

I lift it  in my open fist to my lips.

.

.

L  O  O  K

.

Hope  we’re having  a heaven  so

I’ll look all about  &

Daddy can call out, (& it won’t hurt, no)

He’ll look just like he just got home from work:

“There’s my inquisitive young man,” he’d shout.

We’d have it out;

My young man’s mystery,

His young man’s misery.

We’d upheave it out. One Heavy inquiry would unfold

If he mightn’t have killed himself  he might have taught me:

“You gotta take the bite of bitter with the cold”

.

My Mother could steady things when she told me

When I was ready she told me:

“I know, I know,

With time…

We’ll  heal.

He  was  not  well.

They say  that You/

Have his look.

You  know.

You know

I say  ‘You’ll/

Try having my smile’”.

.

.

.

.

For always, again, rest in peace, daddy 3/21/1929-5/29/1959

May 8, 2017

NECTARINE

Filed under: Uncategorized — namelessneed @ 10:19 am

I’m  ripe  with  dereliction

My repast  still  strewn out before me

I’ll lap seeds from fruit eden fronts me

Though I’ll stick slow to my sloth….my depiction

April 12, 2017

Gethsemane, by Mary Oliver

Filed under: Uncategorized — namelessneed @ 10:01 am

 

 

Gethsemane, by Mary Oliver

The grass never sleeps.
Or the roses.
Nor does the lily have a secret eye that shuts until morning.
Jesus said, wait with me. But the disciples slept.
The cricket has such splendid fringe on its feet,
and it sings, have you noticed, with its whole body,
and heaven knows if it ever sleeps.
Jesus said, wait with me. And maybe the stars did, maybe the wind wound itself into a silver tree, and didn’t move, maybe
the lake far away, where once he walked as on a
blue pavement,
lay still and waited, wild awake.
Oh the dear bodies, slumped and eye-shut, that could not
keep that vigil, how they must have wept,
so utterly human, knowing this too
must be a part of the story.

March 27, 2017

“BURDEN” ( Lesson From Bergman’s “The Seventh Seal”)

Filed under: Uncategorized — namelessneed @ 4:01 pm

faith

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