Currently Listening The Poison By Bullet for My Valentine Tears Don't Fall

Take a moment?

Yes, take a moment.

Or don't. 

It's completely up to you, and one of the most wonderful things about being a human being is the fact that you can choose to do as you choose.

I would never expect anyone to listen to what I have to say, unless it made some kind of sense to them.  I mean, they may listen, and agree completely (be assured..this rarely happens).  They may listen, and buy some of what I'm selling, or they may just say, she is insane.

Whatever their choice, Itake some of that response and use it in my life, my studies, etc.  The rest of it I chalk up to them being morons of course.  : )

Ultimately, I can offer, and whatever people choose to take from that, no longer has much to do with me.

So, when I have my moments of "quiet observation" do not take it as preaching or as suggestion, or as anything for that matter.  Simply take it as a statement of how I might be feeling at that moment.  Granted, just like my personality, it will change in not too much time.

And speaking of time--

Time, it simply is. 

We can choose to let its artificiality run our lives, or we can merely mark its pseudo-necessity and live our lives as we see makes logical sense, and time is never wasted unless we believe it is. 

It is, however, an artificial way that most of us live our lives, so we feel compelled to make sure we have enough of it in any given day.  We live by the clock, the watch, the cell phone, the sidekick, or whatever other modern time keeping device we've become a slave to. 

How we choose to spend our time is ultimately up to us and whether we waste it or give it way, in almost monetary increments, to those we feel are worthy, is something many (if not all) of us have done at one time or another.

Speaking of time, I spent some of mine over the past few days with a group of poets and scholars.  Now, I'm sure some of you would rather gouge your eyes or ears out, but for me being surrounded by a group of intellectual people was exhilarating. 

You must keep in mind that I currently live in smalltown/religious freaktown USA, so sitting with them and feeling "relatively normal" was like enjoying a fine Petit Shiraz, wishing the experience would never end, savoring it until all that was left was a drizzle of the wine at the bottom of the bottle.

We sat around for two hours analyzing the metaphysical poetry of John Donne.  He's really a genius.  I had forgotten how powerful his work was, and it felt great to go back and visit such an old friend.

Anyway, here's one that we took a look at.  I hope you'll appreciate it.  If not, then don't.

THE BROKEN HEART.
by John Donne

He is stark mad, whoever says,
    That he hath been in love an hour,
Yet not that love so soon decays,
    But that it can ten in less space devour ;
Who will believe me, if I swear
That I have had the plague a year?
    Who would not laugh at me, if I should say
    I saw a flash of powder burn a day?

Ah, what a trifle is a heart,
    If once into love's hands it come !
All other griefs allow a part
    To other griefs, and ask themselves but some ;
They come to us, but us love draws ;
He swallows us and never chaws ;
    By him, as by chain'd shot, whole ranks do die ;
    He is the tyrant pike, our hearts the fry.

If 'twere not so, what did become
    Of my heart when I first saw thee?
I brought a heart into the room,
    But from the room I carried none with me.
If it had gone to thee, I know
Mine would have taught thine heart to show
    More pity unto me ; but Love, alas !
    At one first blow did shiver it as glass.

Yet nothing can to nothing fall,
    Nor any place be empty quite ;
Therefore I think my breast hath all
    Those pieces still, though they be not unite ;
And now, as broken glasses show
A hundred lesser faces, so
    My rags of heart can like, wish, and adore,
    But after one such love, can love no more

Peace,

C.