The Fall

Rush is Losing It...

The dancer slows her frantic pace
In pain and desperation
Her aching limbs and downcast face
Aglow with perspiration

Stiff as wire, her lungs on fire
With just the briefest pause
The flooding through her memory
The echoes of old applause.

She limps across the floor
And closes her bedroom door...

The writer stare with glassy eyes
Defies the empty page
His beard is white, his face is lined
And streaked with tears of rage

Thirty years ago, how the words would flow
With passion and precision
But now his mind is dark and dulled
By sickness and indecision

And he stares out the kitchen door
Where the sun will rise no more

Some are born to move the world
To live their fantasies
But most of us just dream about
The things we'd like to be

Sadder still to watch it die
Than never to have known it
For you, the blind who once could see
The bell tolls for thee
The bell tolls for

For you the blind who once could see
The bell tolls for thee...

The bell tolls for thee...

Just Being Me...

Crow Heaven

“#32- The crows like to insist that a single crow is enough to destroy heaven. This is without doubt, but it says nothing about heaven, because heaven is just another way of saying: the impossibility of crows.”

― Franz Kafka, "The Zürau Aphorisms" (1918)

Friendly Minds...

Culture Industry Refresher - Dialectic of Enlightenment

Do Your Shopping for Easter Today, Monday

 The Next Three Weeks of Lent WILL Be Difficult, so Do Your Shopping for Easter NOW!