The graveyard–who makes his home in that land?
Gathered ghosts, wise and foolish alike.
Lord of spirits, why must you hurry us so!
Man’s life allows not a moment of lingering.
translated by Burton Watson
The graveyard–who makes his home in that land?
Gathered ghosts, wise and foolish alike.
Lord of spirits, why must you hurry us so!
Man’s life allows not a moment of lingering.
translated by Burton Watson
there’s Baileys
sweetening my coffee
there’s the morning
caressing the hills
there’s the cat
stretched out on the table
there’s life
slowly coming
my way
there was
that
now
there is
this
life is no movie
there’s no Hollywood ending
on your silver screen
just dead flowers, stale candy
a walk in deserted parks
this lifetime
a summer a fall
a winter a spring
let it come
sights worth seeing
this time around
again
the process of going from
who one has been
to who one is
on the way toward
who one can be
not that
at least
not always
but then again
sometimes
it does come
to that
sometimes you stand still
rather than walk on
and it works out
maybe not quite like
the way you anticipated
but not quite as bad
as it could have been
a victory of sorts
in a world where victory
is not just infrequent
but fleeting when it comes
so thank whomever whatever
you thank when you give thanks
and check out train schedules
for early departures
the next day
when all else fails
there’s always life
coming along to surprise you
it could be some gesture
a spoken word, or two
perhaps the touch of a friend
or someone not so friendly
a flood in the neighborhood
power shortages
a voice from the heavens
or someplace further south
or perhaps someone seen
in a different light
you know, something you didn’t expect
good or bad or indifferent
but you’re stopped short
breath held
there on the precipice
whatever balance you thought you achieved
is now called into question
go or stay
throw all caution to the proverbial winds
this business called life
suddenly changes
and whatever rules applied before
no longer matter
it is a new day
or maybe evening
and all you have are what’s left of your wits
so saddle up, partner
whatever it is
it’s begun
the things we carry
are the things
that won’t let go
Being Present for the Moment
Website storys
Illustration, Concept Art & Comics/Manga
Singer, Songwriter and Author from Kyoto, Japan.
Singer, Songwriter and Author from Kyoto, Japan.
An online activist from Bosnia and Herzegovina, based in Sarajevo, standing on the right side of the history - for free Palestine.
A place where I post unscripted, unedited, soulless rants of a insomniac madman
Dennis Mantin is a Toronto-based writer, artist, and filmmaker.
Finding Inspiration
Off the wall, under the freeway, over the rainbow, nothin' but net.
Erm, what am I doing with my life?
Artist by choice, photographer by default, poet by accident.
At Least Trying Too
A Journey of Spiritual Significance
Life in islamic point of view
Through the view point of camera...
L'essenziale è invisibile e agli occhi e al cuore. Beccarlo è pura questione di culo
In Kate's World