man. you wrote that like i wish i could, with word economy and direct imagery, and yet you got so much across by implication, rather than by explicit statement. very skillful, very concise, and cutting, too! i'd hate to be on the other end of one of your writes! ha.
Stupendous write ! so philosophical, penned with graciouness !
"The only factor they are really concerned with
Is the chatter in their heads
And the gratification of personal agenda" --->>how say when one can't hear anything other than your own voice :(
"Or a kiss I can't wait to end" --->> What a superb barometer !
You are always able to make me walk away with my heard swirling with thoughts Jude, Thank You :)
'an enduring erection
Throbbing inside a womb of mislaid ideals'
so much truth in an allusion.
Paul:-}
Reviewed by A. Gagné (Reader)
Reviewed on January 22, 2005
Aaah, what a fine simile - that one caught me off guard - "like an enduring erection..." !
I think all people create their own illusions and most of us do it, most of the time, unconsciously. That way, we get really caught up in it, believe it, and it feels more real. But most of what we call "life" and "real" is an illusion, and most of us are deluding ourselves about all kinds of things on an everyday basis.
When we become conscious to of these facts of human behavior, as Hermann Hesse expressed perfectly in his story of Siddhartha (1951), we are untouchable, isolated observers. Siddhartha chose to get lost in the illusions, to immerse himself into the world of woes, of highs and lows, of emotional attachments - that world where the mind invents the meaning and significance of each and every facet of one's experience, environment, being, doing, and having.
When we are on the outside, aware of the illusion - aware that it doesn't mean anything, that that person is making it mean something it really doesn't, and we let them, we sit back slightly amused at their story and their intense attachment to it - we get bored after a while. Everybody's story sounds the same, because we are conscious that all stories are merely stories - made up to, as you point out, justify one's actions and fortify one's attachments.
Notice how hard we cling to our stories, our versions... why? Because to wake up and be conscious that we are the ones making things significant, giving things meaning, deriving purpose and perpetuating ourselves is as much fun as waking up on Monday morning. We have to do it all over again. We know we do, and even if we can find a way to be content as detached observers, we know we will choose at some point to lose ourselves in the game again. It is our nature. It is the human condition. Consciousness is boring. And so we choose over and over again to passionately believe in the illusions that best set the stage for us to perpetuate who we are and what we choose to make of ourselves.
I like what John Lennon sang in "You Know It Ain't Easy" - "oh, boy, when you're dead, you can't take nothin with you but your soul."
"Yet to me, they are like an enduring erection
Throbbing inside a womb of mislaid ideals "
I love this and the whole poem speaks much truth. Thank you, Jude.
Love and peace to you. Regis
Reviewed by Katy Walsvik (Reader)
Reviewed on January 22, 2005
Robert, I'm often stunned at how you can do commentary without the anger, without the spite... it's effective, universally true and accessible for my own thoughts.
Perhaps you are that illusive proof that words have power and can lead without pushing. I climbed right inside this one. Yes! katy xox.
This is a splendid work because of it's clarity, not couched in supposition or innuendo. Now if only those whom the shoe fits would get the message that would perfect this exceptiona piece!
It is an interesting web that is woven when one assumes someone elses position, thoughts or intent; from that point forward, it all seems like raging lunacy. Some people just think too much and create mountains from mole hills. Often, I believe this comes from one party believing that the other party is keeping something from them, or not being totally honest and so begins the fabrication. Truth being, if you don't trust, the relationship, whatever it was, is over...cut your losses and move on. Excellent write, Robert. I have been on both sides of this situation before, I will sadly admit.
Take care,
Sherry
Reviewed by Judy Lloyd (Reader)
Reviewed on January 22, 2005
Well Robert you have written this one with a deep perception that it reaches out and touches you. And I agree with Felix.
You make this kind of madness seem rather appealing! Ah, who knows to and from where the winds that fan the flames of creativity blow, or from what they may be sourced. The result may be pleasing enough, though, irrespective of the intial intention. As with all art, once it is conceived it takes on a life of its own in the hearts and minds of those who will receive it - regardless of the author's ideals - whether well- or mis-placed! Quelle joie de vivre! You are good at combining the existential with the rather more visceral... Or perhaps I've just been chewing on too many Leaves! :)) This reminds me of your more classical RJ(A)F- stuff. Tis good. TY Kate xx
First Edition Translation of Teselas by Carmen Crespo X111 César Simón Poetry Prixe 2016 Translated from Spanish by Robin Ouzman Hislop and Amparo Arrospíde
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Stupendous write ! so philosophical, penned with graciouness !
"The only factor they are really concerned with
Is the chatter in their heads
And the gratification of personal agenda" --->>how say when one can't hear anything other than your own voice :(
"Or a kiss I can't wait to end" --->> What a superb barometer !
You are always able to make me walk away with my heard swirling with thoughts Jude, Thank You :)
warm hugs
Elga
Ron
'an enduring erection
Throbbing inside a womb of mislaid ideals'
so much truth in an allusion.
Paul:-}
I think all people create their own illusions and most of us do it, most of the time, unconsciously. That way, we get really caught up in it, believe it, and it feels more real. But most of what we call "life" and "real" is an illusion, and most of us are deluding ourselves about all kinds of things on an everyday basis.
When we become conscious to of these facts of human behavior, as Hermann Hesse expressed perfectly in his story of Siddhartha (1951), we are untouchable, isolated observers. Siddhartha chose to get lost in the illusions, to immerse himself into the world of woes, of highs and lows, of emotional attachments - that world where the mind invents the meaning and significance of each and every facet of one's experience, environment, being, doing, and having.
When we are on the outside, aware of the illusion - aware that it doesn't mean anything, that that person is making it mean something it really doesn't, and we let them, we sit back slightly amused at their story and their intense attachment to it - we get bored after a while. Everybody's story sounds the same, because we are conscious that all stories are merely stories - made up to, as you point out, justify one's actions and fortify one's attachments.
Notice how hard we cling to our stories, our versions... why? Because to wake up and be conscious that we are the ones making things significant, giving things meaning, deriving purpose and perpetuating ourselves is as much fun as waking up on Monday morning. We have to do it all over again. We know we do, and even if we can find a way to be content as detached observers, we know we will choose at some point to lose ourselves in the game again. It is our nature. It is the human condition. Consciousness is boring. And so we choose over and over again to passionately believe in the illusions that best set the stage for us to perpetuate who we are and what we choose to make of ourselves.
I like what John Lennon sang in "You Know It Ain't Easy" - "oh, boy, when you're dead, you can't take nothin with you but your soul."
Whatever that means...
:)
Love Tinka
Throbbing inside a womb of mislaid ideals "
I love this and the whole poem speaks much truth. Thank you, Jude.
Love and peace to you. Regis
Perhaps you are that illusive proof that words have power and can lead without pushing. I climbed right inside this one. Yes! katy xox.
Last few lines are vintage Judeace;-)
Eileen
Take care,
Sherry
Felix
Sounds like members of parliament to me.
Is very true, and well observered.
Your last two lines described these people very well.
Sandie Angel a.k.a. Sandie May Angel :o)
...Michael