12/10/5 - 11:37 a.m.
"Rigoberto Alpizar" Google count: 55,600
12/9/5 - 11:32 a.m.
"Rigoberto Alpizar" Google count: 21,600
12/7/5 - 5:50 p.m.
"Rigoberto Alpizar" Google count: 1
Saturday
From Hermann Hesse ROSSHALDE
"...And with relish he breathed the heady air of art, the bitter joy of the creator who must give himself till he stands on the brink of annihilation, and can find the sacred happiness of freedom only in an iron discipline that checks all caprice and gains moments of fulfillment only through ascetic obedience to his sense of truth."
Woof!
"...And with relish he breathed the heady air of art, the bitter joy of the creator who must give himself till he stands on the brink of annihilation, and can find the sacred happiness of freedom only in an iron discipline that checks all caprice and gains moments of fulfillment only through ascetic obedience to his sense of truth."
Woof!
Friday
Téodor on Blog Quality Bar
"(don't you just love how since the Blog Quality Bar has been set so low, I can mention this entirely without a segue, and it will seem like high literature simply because there are no misspellings and you can't tell which band I'm listening to?)"
-Téodor/Onstad
-Téodor/Onstad
Google Culture
12/9/5 - 11:32 a.m.
"Rigoberto Alpizar" Google count: 21,600
12/7/5 - 5:50 p.m.
"Rigoberto Alpizar" Google count: 1
"Rigoberto Alpizar" Google count: 21,600
12/7/5 - 5:50 p.m.
"Rigoberto Alpizar" Google count: 1
Thursday
Reflection on Culture
gargoyles from their pillars watch the city
looking down from arches unobserved
gothic and grotesque creations spying from the buttresses
peering in the darkness
for the sign to begin.
look for them while claws still grip the walls;
talons itch for flesh of each
and beaks for blood of all.
listen for their screeches.
citizens will dread the streets
when gargoyles wild assault the rich
and caryatids cast their burdens
stone by stone upon the poor.
Alice 9/75
looking down from arches unobserved
gothic and grotesque creations spying from the buttresses
peering in the darkness
for the sign to begin.
look for them while claws still grip the walls;
talons itch for flesh of each
and beaks for blood of all.
listen for their screeches.
citizens will dread the streets
when gargoyles wild assault the rich
and caryatids cast their burdens
stone by stone upon the poor.
Alice 9/75
Wednesday
Monday
Air Poetry
I Have Been in The Attic Again
After looking around in the attic for a bit
and at all the gifts of the future
Decisions remain unresolved
Answers to questions that shape lives
might prove far too difficult in the end
Worse by far
is the pain we create for ourselves
Than that inflicted
by knocks or falls or collisions into things
We have become our own most feared predator
and cannot help our own torment
or that in which we inflict upon others
Often those most close
Alas it has come the time to
Deliberately and diligently
shift direction and change course [yawn] again
Towards projects happy for all [hurray]
Perhaps we can build ladders
or hot air balloons or
Something to rescue us from our
Dank lonely pits
Like Angels
Like angels or some sort of cadre of full-grown lady-elves
helpful and caring for whim necessity and desire
Break down to rebuild
Deconstruct to reconstruct
Stop to start
Die to live
Our miseries are trivial in context(s) wide
selfish hoarding of feelings good
while holding most humans at - at least - arm's length
God's absence only exacerbates our solitude
One of each
Something and more for all
They lock the doors and steep the tea
But not before I surrender to their modest query
Will it be dinner tonight or only dessert?
Mutual Act Appreciation Day
And the arts are good out west, I report
and they were all asking: what will your next project be?
as the number one question, the answers were wholly insufficient
for them - for me
Perhaps the better question would have been - once we stripped away the unessentials:
What have we?
Or
What are we?
Or
Who are we?
Or, just
Why?
Like a cat on its seventh life
(and without intention of getting into a "heaven")
perhaps the defenses should activate more acutely
Else the carelessness in which we choose
becomes our ultimate choice
The Fragile World of The People Who Make The Art (and, the people who love them)
As relieving as it is for the tribe to care for you for a few days
it is equally or more frightening to return to caring for yourself
To our realities and responsibilities
(Even our most idolized citizens must visit the toilet on occasion)
If reinvigoration does not reinvigorate or resetting does not reset
Then the changes are permanent and the grind can become intolerable
Sometimes when the actual tears dry the internal sobbing only begins
Leading becomes following again
After looking around in the attic for a bit
and at all the gifts of the future
Decisions remain unresolved
Answers to questions that shape lives
might prove far too difficult in the end
Worse by far
is the pain we create for ourselves
Than that inflicted
by knocks or falls or collisions into things
We have become our own most feared predator
and cannot help our own torment
or that in which we inflict upon others
Often those most close
Alas it has come the time to
Deliberately and diligently
shift direction and change course [yawn] again
Towards projects happy for all [hurray]
Perhaps we can build ladders
or hot air balloons or
Something to rescue us from our
Dank lonely pits
Like Angels
Like angels or some sort of cadre of full-grown lady-elves
helpful and caring for whim necessity and desire
Break down to rebuild
Deconstruct to reconstruct
Stop to start
Die to live
Our miseries are trivial in context(s) wide
selfish hoarding of feelings good
while holding most humans at - at least - arm's length
God's absence only exacerbates our solitude
One of each
Something and more for all
They lock the doors and steep the tea
But not before I surrender to their modest query
Will it be dinner tonight or only dessert?
Mutual Act Appreciation Day
And the arts are good out west, I report
and they were all asking: what will your next project be?
as the number one question, the answers were wholly insufficient
for them - for me
Perhaps the better question would have been - once we stripped away the unessentials:
What have we?
Or
What are we?
Or
Who are we?
Or, just
Why?
Like a cat on its seventh life
(and without intention of getting into a "heaven")
perhaps the defenses should activate more acutely
Else the carelessness in which we choose
becomes our ultimate choice
The Fragile World of The People Who Make The Art (and, the people who love them)
As relieving as it is for the tribe to care for you for a few days
it is equally or more frightening to return to caring for yourself
To our realities and responsibilities
(Even our most idolized citizens must visit the toilet on occasion)
If reinvigoration does not reinvigorate or resetting does not reset
Then the changes are permanent and the grind can become intolerable
Sometimes when the actual tears dry the internal sobbing only begins
Leading becomes following again
Sunday
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