Entries by tag: wine
Sleep well. A gland in the command
center releases its yellow hornet
to tell you you're missing the point,
the point being that getting smacked
by a board, gored by umbrellas, tongue-
lashed by cardiologists, bush-wacked
by push-up bras is a learning experience.
Sure, you're about learned up. Weren't
we promised the thieves would be punished?
Promised jet-packs and fleshy gardenias
and wine to get the dust out of our mouths?
And endless forgiveness? A floral rot
comes out of the closet, the old teacher's
voice comes out of the ravine, red-wings
in rushes never forget their rusty-hinged
song. Moon-song, dread-song, hardly-a-song
at all song. Let's ignore that call,
let someone else stop Mary from herself
for the 80th time. It's never really dark
anyway, not even inside the skull. Take
my hand, fellow figment. Every spring
we'll meet, definite as swarms of stars,
insects over glazed puddles, your eyes
green even though your driver's license
says otherwise. And yes, mortal knells
in sleepless hours, hollow knocks of empty
boats against a dock but still the mind
is a meadow, the heart an ocean even though
it burns. As long as there's a sky, someone
will be falling from it. After molting,
eat your own shucked skin for strength,
keep changing the subject in hopes
that the subject will change you.
center releases its yellow hornet
to tell you you're missing the point,
the point being that getting smacked
by a board, gored by umbrellas, tongue-
lashed by cardiologists, bush-wacked
by push-up bras is a learning experience.
Sure, you're about learned up. Weren't
we promised the thieves would be punished?
Promised jet-packs and fleshy gardenias
and wine to get the dust out of our mouths?
And endless forgiveness? A floral rot
comes out of the closet, the old teacher's
voice comes out of the ravine, red-wings
in rushes never forget their rusty-hinged
song. Moon-song, dread-song, hardly-a-song
at all song. Let's ignore that call,
let someone else stop Mary from herself
for the 80th time. It's never really dark
anyway, not even inside the skull. Take
my hand, fellow figment. Every spring
we'll meet, definite as swarms of stars,
insects over glazed puddles, your eyes
green even though your driver's license
says otherwise. And yes, mortal knells
in sleepless hours, hollow knocks of empty
boats against a dock but still the mind
is a meadow, the heart an ocean even though
it burns. As long as there's a sky, someone
will be falling from it. After molting,
eat your own shucked skin for strength,
keep changing the subject in hopes
that the subject will change you.
There's still room on the trip scheduled for May 2012. This may be the last time Mykl leads this trip, and he has been doing it for a decade now, so he has it wired. This trip is for advanced whitewater kayakers and their non-boating companions. The trip of a lifetime!
The most living moment comes when
those who love each other meet each
other's eyes and in what flows
between them. To see your face
in a crowd of others, or alone on a
frightening street, I weep for that.
Our tears improve the earth. The
time you scolded me, your gratitude,
your laughing, always your qualities
increase the soul. Seeing you is a
wine that does not muddle or numb.
We sit inside the cypress shadow
where amazement and clear thought
twine their slow growth into us.
--Rumi (translated by Coleman Barks)
( a little about RumiCollapse )
What familiar food is this???
Enriched Flour, Wheat Flour, Niacinamide , Reduced Iron , Thiamin Mononitrate - Vitamin B1 , Riboflavin - Vitamin B2 , Folic Acid , Corn Syrup , High Fructose Corn Syrup , Dextrose , Vegetable Oil , Soybean Oil , Hydrogenated Cottonseed Oil - with TBHQ and Citric Acid for Freshness - Less than 0.5 g Trans Fat per Serving , Sugar , Cracker Meal , Wheat Starch, Salt, Dried Strawberries, Dried Apples, Dried Pears, Cornstarch , Leavening, Baking Soda, Sodium Acid Pyrophosphate, Monocalcium Phosphate, Citric Acid, Milled Corn, Modified Wheat Starch, Gelatin, Caramel Color, Partially Hydrogenated Soybean and/or Cottonseed O - Less than 0.5 g Trans Fat per Serving, Modified Corn Starch, Xanthan Gum, Soy Lecithin, Color Added, Niacinamide, Reduced Iron, Red No. 40, Vitamin A Palmitate, Yellow No. 6 Pyridoxine Hydrochloride - Vitamin B6, Riboflavin - Vitamin B2, Thiamin Hydrochloride - Vitamin B1, Folic Acid, Turmeric Color, Blue No. 1
( I bet you have eaten them. I have. It is a----Collapse )
Enriched Flour, Wheat Flour, Niacinamide , Reduced Iron , Thiamin Mononitrate - Vitamin B1 , Riboflavin - Vitamin B2 , Folic Acid , Corn Syrup , High Fructose Corn Syrup , Dextrose , Vegetable Oil , Soybean Oil , Hydrogenated Cottonseed Oil - with TBHQ and Citric Acid for Freshness - Less than 0.5 g Trans Fat per Serving , Sugar , Cracker Meal , Wheat Starch, Salt, Dried Strawberries, Dried Apples, Dried Pears, Cornstarch , Leavening, Baking Soda, Sodium Acid Pyrophosphate, Monocalcium Phosphate, Citric Acid, Milled Corn, Modified Wheat Starch, Gelatin, Caramel Color, Partially Hydrogenated Soybean and/or Cottonseed O - Less than 0.5 g Trans Fat per Serving, Modified Corn Starch, Xanthan Gum, Soy Lecithin, Color Added, Niacinamide, Reduced Iron, Red No. 40, Vitamin A Palmitate, Yellow No. 6 Pyridoxine Hydrochloride - Vitamin B6, Riboflavin - Vitamin B2, Thiamin Hydrochloride - Vitamin B1, Folic Acid, Turmeric Color, Blue No. 1
( I bet you have eaten them. I have. It is a----Collapse )
Something a girlfriend sent me:
Women are like apples on trees. The best ones are at the top of the tree.
Most men don't want to reach for the good ones because they are afraid of
falling and getting hurt. Instead, they sometimes take the apples from the
ground that aren't as good, but easy.
The apples at the top think something is wrong with them, when in reality,
they're amazing. They just have to wait for the right person to come
along, the one who is brave enough to climb all the way to the top of the tree.
Now Men.... Men are like a fine wine. They begin as grapes, and it's up to us women to stomp the shit out of them until they turn into something acceptable enough to have dinner with.
Women are like apples on trees. The best ones are at the top of the tree.
Most men don't want to reach for the good ones because they are afraid of
falling and getting hurt. Instead, they sometimes take the apples from the
ground that aren't as good, but easy.
The apples at the top think something is wrong with them, when in reality,
they're amazing. They just have to wait for the right person to come
along, the one who is brave enough to climb all the way to the top of the tree.
Now Men.... Men are like a fine wine. They begin as grapes, and it's up to us women to stomp the shit out of them until they turn into something acceptable enough to have dinner with.
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