Back to School

“ The strongest and most effective force in guaranteeing the long-term maintenance of power is not violence in all the forms deployed by the dominant to control the dominated, but consent in all the forms in which the dominated acquiesce in their own domination.” – Robert Frost

 

”A gentle reminder that all we are aiming for here is stricter gun laws that make it harder for people to get guns (because it shouldn’t be easier than getting a driver’s license) and the removal of Military Grade Weapons from Civilian Society.”                 – Emma Gonzalez

Back to School

 

The lazy days of building castles in the sand

Are melting into memories, those castles

Tossed by waves, without a trace

A trip to the store, or commercial bombardment

Reminds everyone, a new school year is not far away

 

In years, and decades past, visions of new shoes,

Dresses, pants, shoes, and backpack were deemed essential

Somethings never change, alas, they have

With the standard supplies added to the shopping cart

Thoughts turn to the avant-guard in school couture.

A nation turns to uniforms of BODY ARMOR

In hopes, their children make it home from school

 

Trump, Moscow Mitch, G.O.P., N.R.A., Corporations, Mainstream Media,

Dems, who have sold out to big money, they don’t care, your heart a gaping hole.

They won’t be there as you fondle your child’s clothing, planning a funeral

Nights filled with those final moments, and the cold remains

Captured on instant replay, they won’t hear you screaming

For one more moment, waking you from the nightmare that doesn’t end

The freezing numbness that shreds your aching soul

They wouldn’t know, one must have a soul to crush it

 

No need to plan graduations, college applications, future weddings, grandchildren…

There won’t be those faces around the table, calls with those we love

Replaced by capitalism’s greed with waking in the night

Screaming in the dark, in the middle of the day, arms empty and aching

Knowing our children are never coming home

 

 

In memory of those who have died in the hate shootings that terrorize a nation. Lives lost, families left with gaping holes where loved ones used to be. All in the name of dividing the country for profit and domination.  

 

Bisous,

 

Léa

Blind-spot…

“We can easily forgive a child who is afraid of the dark; the real tragedy of life is when men are afraid of the light.”  – Plato

“Too much self-centered attitude, you see, brings, you see, isolation. Result: loneliness, fear, anger. The extreme self-centered attitude is the source of suffering.”  – Dalai Lama

“Opinion is really the lowest form of human knowledge. It requires no accountability, no understanding. The highest form of knowledge is empathy, for it requires us to suspend our egos and live in another’s world. It requires profound purpose larger than the self kind of understanding.” – Bill Bullard

 

Blind-spot…

 

Yes. I’ve observed

You can read the sports section

Financial updates, fashion – a mask

News sensations and acts of

Aggression,

 

Yet, you never could see me

Staring way  outside my periphery ( you don’t know me)

Desperate to avoid, oh, the chinks in your armor

These eyes, they frighten you

Fearing, they could expose you

 

Some say your eyes are vacant

Others say, hostility resides there

You declare astuteness and brilliance

Like an open book

I read the pain from where you strikeout

 

You are terrified

Your wounds open, raw

Could find healing

A vessel for your pain

I never judge and my lips remain sealed

 

You remain locked in the fear

Fear that I would know you too well

Yet, I already do

 

Bisous,

Léa

THE MOON, 3 POEMS — Deuxiemepeau Poetry by Damien B. Donnelly

1 The Depth under the Moon Moonlight melts languidly on liquid lakes like suds on dishes like snow on windows like thicker skin over age-old scars. Moonlight floats momentarily on rippling reflections like the tingle after kisses like the scent after sex like the pain after parting. Moonlight flirts on the water to divine […]

via THE MOON, 3 POEMS — Deuxiemepeau Poetry by Damien B. Donnelly

Contempt

“The only cure for contempt is counter-contempt.” – H.L. Mencken

“Only the contemptible fear contempt.” – François de La Rochefoucauld

 “I will love the light for it shows me the way, yet I will endure the darkness because it shows me the stars.” – Og Mandino

 

Contempt

 

Swaddled at birth

In that shroud of contempt

I could not escape

With time and healing

It has become

A badge of honor

Acceptance had a high price

Selling out my mind and soul

Was never on the table

What was lost

Never belonged to me

I walk alone, never lonely

With self-acceptance there is

Always a trusted companion

At my side till the end

Contempt has no place in my life

Only pity for those who chose its path

 

Bisous,

Léa

 

Tenuous

“The skein of human continuity must often become this tenuous across the centuries (hanging by a thread, in the old cliche’), but the circle remains unbroken if I can touch the ink of Lavoisier’s own name, written by his own hand. A candle of light, nurtured by the oxygen of his greatest discovery, never burns out if we cherish the intellectual heritage of such unfractured filiation across the ages. We may also wish to contemplate the genuine physical thread of nucleic acid that ties each of us to the common bacterial ancestor of all living creatures, born on Lavoisier’s ancienne terre more than 3.5 billion years ago- and never since disrupted, not for one moment, not for one generation. Such a legacy must be worth preserving from all the guillotines of our folly.”                    – Stephen Jay Gold

 

 

Tenuous

 

The web

Insects flail

Before succumbing

Strands sticky, death grip

 

Weavers of the traps

United in the carnage

Delight in the suffering

Of those they capture

Terrorists wear a masque

 

Desperate old white men

Cling to their delusions

Obsessed with a future

They won’t see, lifting their legs

Territorial marking on the land

 

Robbing the future of the young

Stealing tomorrows of each species

Land disappearing – glaciers melt

The planet will go on – what replaces

Current species – permutation possibilities

Limitless

 

Bisous,

Léa

 

 

Cego debruçado em via-estreita

If you do not understand Portuguese, this is well worth clicking the translation button for. 

Namastibet

Há palavras de vulgar despojo,
Pois porque o normal é dar, logo
Eu me dou, de mim próprio, tal
Como choro ou respiro e me redimo, 

Mortal despojo, nome de guerra, nojo,
Guerreiro de latão, charlatão, só de incerteza
Tenho pose chaves e certidão; desejo é
Bom-porto, Porto-bom tem Zenão,

O silêncio é absurdo e o meu espírito
Paira longe ao longo, pois já não é só o pensar
Que me foge, eu que fujo de me pensar
Morto e mudo, cego debruçado em via-estreita,

Consciente da derrota, fama é lama e o facto
De ser dissemelhante a algum outro
Espécime de peixe-monge, faringe desfeita
E traqueia, difíceis de engolir, de pesar,

Há palavras de vulgar despojo, nojo
Porém me dá a fala sem emoção, “fio-prumo”, 
Por isso choro, quando respiro
De fora para dentro…e me dou,

Cego debruçado em via-estreita e oblonga,
Vivo metaforicamente falando pra fora 
E me…

View original post 25 more words

The Ukrainian Muse and the Paradox of Life

If you are not yet familiar with Randal’s work, you are missing so much.

Global Sojourns Photography

Alone I walk.  The bite of the winter chill does not let up, colors of the world fade into different shades of bleakness.  The ache for youth pulsates strong although I’m acutely aware each passing second takes me further away from this dream.

A nondescript voice echoes in my head, “the closer to death you are, the closer to life you become…”

My turned-up collar does little to stifle the cold wind caressing my neck, motivation for the continued search of a spark to ignite another year of passion.

The winter’s silence is broken by a warm whisper, “so you’ve finally come to see me again…” I look to find a smile I’ve grown accustomed to when in a philosophical mood.  She’s always walking beside me, but it’s been too long since I last heard her voice.

“This morning, I noticed you were preoccupied with a quote at the coffee…

View original post 892 more words