Saturday, December 20, 2003

Listen...
Ogden Nash

There is a knocking in the skull,
An endless silent shout
Of something beating on a wall,
And crying, “Let me out!”

That solitary prisoner
Will never hear reply.
No comrade in eternity
Can hear the frantic cry.

No heart can share the terror
That haunts his monstrous dark.
The light that filters through the chinks
No other eye can mark.

When flesh is linked with eager flesh,
And words run warm and full,
I think that he is loneliest then,
The captive in the skull.

Caught in a mesh of living veins,
In cell of padded bone,
He loneliest is when he pretends
That he is not alone.

We’d free the incarcerate race of man
That such a doom endures
Could only you unlock my skull,
Or I creep into yours.

Mina at 8:18 AM

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Tuesday, December 16, 2003

the wind will take
my voice and rush with it
weaving its song with the
melody of a lark, perhaps

the wind will take
each breath i exhale
and carry it into the lungs
of flowers, trees, plants

and i will live forever
this way, carried
on the wind

Mina at 7:47 PM

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Thursday, December 11, 2003

I've got the entire poem, thanks to the poet so very generously sharing it with me (thank you!!)- happy reading, chickies!


My thoughts have wandered
out the window
into the clouds
where my heart, my soul
are having tea
with aspirations of what could be..
and dreams I've had
are drifting, winking, thinking,
whistling by.

Yesterdays songs
and yesterdays sorrows,
have filled my sails
until tomorrow
when I will greet the day
when it begins
and start this wandering
all over again.

Mina at 9:14 AM

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Saturday, December 06, 2003

today, a celebration of a memory; the sweetness of a word, passed through the temple of breath and into the leaping joy of sound, for the first time.


(six months]

Mina at 10:50 AM

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Wednesday, December 03, 2003

I wonder about stray dogs. I
follow their self-absorbed
trot. They are thinking
Something, going Somewhere,
maybe just killing time. Always
alone, I wonder about that
lonesome existence. Do they
feel it? Or are they too busy
savouring freedom to
care much, exploring every
unknown path the minute
they wonder where it leads to,
following every scent they
think is interesting- really
living
instead of cautiously
tip-toeing around the
edges forever and
patting themselves on the
back when
they’re old (what a
successful life)

Mina at 9:11 AM

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