Literature

Portmeadow Kisses

 

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Portmeadow, Oxford, England

The smell of her skin in Oxford showers

Her hands combing my hair at night

The taste of whisky while I look in her eyes

Her sideways smile, so fresh and silly,

Tea in the morning, singing songs at night

Serious, studious, loving, and sweet

The idea of her forest by the sea

Portmeadow kisses, indescribable blisses

Lips of fire so fierce and free

 

Categories: Exploration, History, Literature, Love, Nature, Poetry, United Kingdom | Tags: , , , , | Leave a comment

Simanolanoki

copy-shedding-new-light.jpg

 

[refrain]:

Simanolanoki Flow Away

Our love is broken on your shoals

The sacred fire that burned within my heart

Like you it ebbs and flows away

 

The hawk has flown away upon the wind

The breezes carry him away

The love I gave to you in heart and song

Like the hawk has flown away

[refrain]

Now like the empty field where once we roamed

Where only broken sherds remain

My heart is empty too, unworthy muse

My love for you has flown away

[refrain]

I’ve closed the book of love I wrote for you

Odshisi carries it away

My heart is mine again to give or break

Flow, Wild River, flow away

[refrain 2x]

Categories: Archaeology, Artifacts, Exploration, History, Indian Trails, Literature, Love, Nature, Poetry | Leave a comment

10,000 Years

 The Reader cannot read
The sleeper cannot sleep
The singer cannot sing
For love of you

The dreamer cannot dream

The diver cannot dive

Except into your eyes

Ageless and green

But the poet writes your soul

And the painter paints my heart

While 10,000 years of time

Smile through the ice

And 10,000 more may come

Before such souls may meet

And I would spend them all

O muse with you

 

Categories: Archaeology, Artifacts, Exploration, History, Literature, Love, Nature, Poetry, Primitive Skills | Leave a comment

Flow into Me

Minds afire, Hearts as one

Dreams descend when Day is done,

Deep in your Soul broad rivers run

Dark is my Night, bright is your Sun;

Shadows flee when I look in your eyes,

Stars grow weak and fall from the skies,

From Fires in our Souls sparks arise,

Love makes the Magic that never dies;

You are the River, I am the Sea,

You are the Earth, I am a Tree,

My roots run deep, your Spirit flows free,

Run into You, Flow into Me.

Categories: Literature, Love, Nature, Poetry | Tags: , , , , | 2 Comments

Silent Tombs of Despair

Let yesteryear’s kisses lay hidden in the shadows of time,

For the ghosts who haunt time’s halls are silent and sad,

Though still they remember the fires and desires of love,

And they envy the fire in my heart and the flowers in your eyes;

Listen, o muse, to the song they would sing to your heart – 

Of death, who strangled their hopes, silenced their songs,

And buried their love in silent tombs of despair;

Their bones now rest ‘neath the Earth, though their shades remain, 

Chained to the places they haunted when their lips were warm;

Perhaps these spirits will awaken when you fling wide your soul,

Full of winter and storms, of springtime and sassafras tea – 

Perhaps even yesteryear’s sighs may meet with today’s

When we are the ghosts who sigh and long for one kiss,

And the poems and songs of tomorrow are sung o’er our graves.

 

Categories: Cemeteries, Exploration, Literature, Love, Nature, Poetry | Leave a comment

When You’re White with Age

When you’re white with Age, and I’m asleep in my Grave,
Buried and awaiting my final excavation,
Think back on your youth, and smile, and raise me a glass.
When Time has shortened your breath and flowed away,
And those twin suns you have for eyes are setting
Beyond the River of Night, and you long to sleep,
Remember – and our shadows will rise up like ghosts in your Mind,
Trooping onto Memory’s stage while salt tears flow.
Then the very words we spoke will be spoken again,
And the very hearts we broke will be broken again,
And the Visions you inspired in my Heart and in my Mind
With your lovely dark eyes will burst through our Souls
Like a Supernova, or your magical smile in the fall.
And we will be One, if only for that instant in Time
While you recite the words of the Poet to his Muse,
When you’re white with Age, and I’m asleep in my Grave.

 

Categories: Archaeology, Cemeteries, Literature, Love, Poetry | Leave a comment

One with Night

Until my Muse bids me from bed to rise

I will remain cocooned in Night’s embrace;

Though Day himself demand I open these eyes,

I’m deaf to Day when Night’s kisses fall on my face.

Dressed all in black lace, her pale shoulder’s bare,

Luscious her lips, ghostly her secretive smile,

Loose and disheveled her ebony moonlit hair

In which I’ll be entangled for but a while.

For awhile I’ll dream of the stars in her dark, dark eyes;

For but awhile may I be one with Sweetest Night;

‘Til My Muse bids me again from bed to rise –

Reborn on the wings of Day, Night’s songs take flight.

 

 

 

Categories: Literature, Love, Poetry | Tags: , | Leave a comment

The Real Meaning of Education

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The French essayist Montaigne’s words of wisdom regarding educating children cannot be lessened by the fact that it was intended as advice to a noble woman on making a gentleman of her son.  After all, he educated his own daughter so well that, unless her father was there, she invariably outshone everyone as the best educated person in any room.

For many years I have thought that cramming 20-30 children together inside our modern schoolrooms too easily leads them to overvalue the opinions of their peers and underappreciate the knowledge (and perhaps the wisdom) of their teachers.  We would do well to heed the advice of thinkers, particularly when they exhibit a singular amount of common sense as Montaigne always does, and jettison all of the fads, experimental cliques, and popular theories regarding something so vital as the education of our children.  Educating my own sons is not a game or a social experiment, nor is it anyone else’s responsibilty.  I have striven to live up to Montaigne’s ideals, and will continue to do so, for my boys’ sakes, for as long as I live.

“…the greatest and most important difficulty of human effort is the training and education of children….Upon the choice of a tutor you shall provide for your son depends the whole success of his education and bringing up.  A gentleman born of noble parentage and heir of a house which aims at true learning should be  disciplined not so much for the practical use he could make of it – so abject an end is unworthy the grace and favour of the Muses, and, besides, bids for the regard of others – not for external use and ornament, but to adorn and enrich his inward mind, desiring rather to form an able and efficient man than a learned man….I would have the tutor make the child examine and thoroughly sift all things,  and harbour nothing by mere authority or upon trust….Study should make us wiser….To know by heart only is not to know at all….A mere bookish knowledge is useless….the society of men, the visiting of foreign countries,  observing people and strange customs, are very necessary….they should be able to give an account of the ideas, manners, customs, and laws of nations they have visited….Let him examine every one’s talent – that of a herdsman,  a mason, a stranger,  or a traveller.  A man may learn something from every one of these which he can use at some time or another.  Even the folly and weakness of others will contribute to his instruction.   By observing the graces and manners of others,  he will acquire for himself the emulation of the good and a contempt for the bad.  Let an honest curiosity be awakened in him to search out the nature and design of all things.  Let him investigate whatever is singular and rare about him – a fine building, a fountain, an eminent man, the place where a battle was anciently fought, the passage of Caesar or of Charlemagne….In this acquaintance of men,  my purpose is that he should give his chief attention to those who live in the records of history.   He shall by the aid of books inform himself of the worthiest minds of the best ages.  History is an idle study to those who choose to make it so,  but of inestimable value to such as can make use of it….It is not the mind, it is not the body we are training: it is the man, and we must not divide him into two parts….”

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Michel de Montaigne, Of the Education of Children, 1575

Categories: Education, Literature, Palaces | Leave a comment

Sun Dance

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Walking on Sunshine, by JF, 2013

Beamin like mornin
sun on cherry blossoms, you
danced into my heart

Categories: Art, Literature, Love, Nature, Poetry | Tags: , , , , , | Leave a comment

Dance of Death

Melencolia I, Albrecht Durer, 1514

Melencolia I, by Albrecht Durer, 1514

Death the white goddess
whirled with Grace, Reason, and Wit
tripping night away –
Love rebuked her with a prayer
while Bard sang and Beauty smiled

Categories: Literature, Love, Poetry | Tags: , , , , | Leave a comment

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