Has anyone made any arrangements for Thursday 15th July as regards staying overnight yet ?. I have got Simon Armitage night right haven't i. Should i be doing this by now ?.
Has anyone made any arrangements for Thursday 15th July as regards staying overnight yet ?. I have got Simon Armitage night right haven't i. Should i be doing this by now ?.
Calypso's Loneliness.
Amidst the darkness,
I hear a cry of loneliness and despair,
Such pure and perfect beauty,
Should never have to suffer,
Another night without the warmth of another,
Help is there if you need it sweet calypso,
You only have to ask.
By Herakles
Yep. That's the night. I think Hes knows of a good campsite and I was planning to get to Dufton pretty early and stay over at the campsite on the Thurs night. Ideally it would be the start of a long weekend, but real life beckons on the Friday!Originally Posted by Herakles
hi herakles it is indeed the 15th...
more info about simon 's trek here..
http://www.thescaremongers.com/simon...nnine-way.html
my plan is to get there early on thursday, possibly run/walk out to meet the man himself then camp that night, like ow said i think hes knows of a good campsite so we can sort that out nearer the time, i will need to scarper early friday to get back for the bairns...should be a good event looking forward to it...)
Mmmm i is intrigued by this calypso bird!...nice little story evolving herakles!
The Time Before Death
Friend? hope for the Guest while you are alive.
Jump into experience while you are alive!
Think... and think... while you are alive.
What you call 'salvation' belongs to the time
before death.
If you don't break your ropes while you're alive,
do you think ghosts will do it after?
The idea that the soul will join with the ecstatic
just because the body is rotten --
that is all fantasy.
What is found now is found then.
If you find nothing now,
you will simply end up with an apartment in the
City of Death.
If you make love with the divine now, in the next
life you will have the face of satisfied desire.
So plunge into the truth, find out who the Teacher is,
Believe in the Great Sound!
Kabir says this: When the Guest is being searched for,
it is the intensity of the longing for the Guest
that does all the work.
Look at me, and you will see a slave of that intensity.
Kabir
Blimey, you can tell it's a Sunday (next-days-a-school-day) mood can't you? Coupled with a shite election result and, personally, Friday's and Today's long runs being 'rubbish' - I'm going to add to the spell of moroseness by posting one of our Sylvia's - so there....
Edge
The woman is perfected.
Her dead
Body wears the smile of accomplishment,
The illusion of a Greek necessity
Flows in the scrolls of her toga,
Her bare
Feet seem to be saying:
We have come so far, it is over.
Each dead child coiled, a white serpent,
One at each little
Pitcher of milk, now empty.
She has folded
Them back into her body as petals
Of a rose close when the garden
Stiffens and odors bleed
From the sweet, deep throats of the night flower.
The moon has nothing to be sad about,
Staring from her hood of bone.
She is used to this sort of thing.
Her blacks crackle and drag.
Am Yisrael Chai
Oh but I forgot to say I really rate this Frecks, especially the last couple of lines - really thought provoking as I'm feeling akin to those fledglings meself at the moment!Loveleeeee night out there.......
The gamble
Hey listen!
You and I sat
On a May evening
An impromptu seat
Gazing at the pink
Set upon a cacophony
of nameless friends
Amidst les verts
With hope and love
And in the minds eyes
A cooker from e bay
Blackcurrant embryos
(courtesy of Lidl)
And the hope
The HOPE
Of a future
Of authentic(selves)
No wonder the birds sing
They know more than we know
Of flight
To risk the fall
Is to gain “life”
Am Yisrael Chai
A Beautiful Day
The grass grew virtually overnight; the Buttercups
so tall they spilled their beauty on the lawn
I have fallen behind in my everyday chores and duties;
the mower quit working and is demanding a raise.
I couldn’t provide it with one; as I too have not been paid.
What the hell, I’m just sitting here on a Sunday,
trying to put off today what I can get done on Monday.
Reclining in my favorite deck chair, sunning my cancers;
admiring God’s work in the world. Such beautiful plush clouds;
the fruit trees in blossom and the birds singing to their young,
while mankind’s contributions crumble all about me
and the mower holds the gas can in utter contempt.
2008 © T Sheridan
Aye Mossy tis that kind of a mood tonight..almost feel like revisiting (and finsihing this time) the Bell Jar after reading this! Awesome poem! thanks for posting.....and MG I realy liked your poem too, I hadn't heard of that poet and found the poems irreverance quite refeshing!....nowt like a good bit of misery on a sunday night eh?.....Oh and mossy at least you did your long runs this weekend!, i have been decidedly lazy ( well could call it a reverse taper! )
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