Posted in Musings, Photography, Poetry

Ego



“You’re on earth. There’s no cure for that.” —Samuel Beckett
I fight against 
two diseases.

Covid has an ego
and you bow to it’s confines.
Fear is the last death of humanity
to be obeyed
and breathed as decay
to satisfy another ego.

Nature tames and destroys.

We often fawn over a bird song
but turn our eyes away from the blood
on an eagle’s beak.
That very beak eats
should it’s appetite seek you.

My mind is cruising around the mountainous thoughts rising. What are we doing? Saving our selves or destroying others?

I see this time in history differently. Many believers hope people will return to God. I see the fear pushing more people into the dark. Worshipping people who carry a motto. I see them birthing destruction far greater a war than all wars together. Not caring for others. Rather, turning inward and away from spirit. Saving themselves while blaming others..

I see the scenario much differently than most I know. The destruction of goodness to usher in a masked sense of security. Death wins again.

Author’s note. I wrote this at the very beginning of the pandemic. I did not publish for various reasons. Does it feel right now? Not really. I am hoping a conversation starts… I am listening.

Posted in Art, Musings, Poetry, quotes

What if?

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Life is a tragedy until you make it a comedy. –Me

I love storytelling and dance and the creativeness of being. There is purpose in art. There is a reason we have an imagination.

But ever more, I feel squeamish at the way we are being manipulated in our thoughts by the shimmer of fame and the fortune of a few. I cry because there is a huge disconnect in Hollywood and the fortress built. I fear community adrift in a stranger’s dreams.

Perhaps we lack courage to live. Perhaps our obsession to be entertained leaves us morally weak. Fame abandons. When their story ends, what is left? Lights out and doors shut. We are left wandering and wondering what the purpose of Hollywood is all about. Hollywood feels so empty.

I say this having always wanting to be a dancer. It is in my soul to create. There is exhilaration being on a stage. Being loved for the love you create. Oh, but fleeting love.

I agree with Shakespeare that all of life is a stage. Perhaps we should admire our neighbor. Listen to their stories and be mesmerized by their dance. What if we do? What if we too share our dreams and hopes and make art?

One of the many reasons I love online blogging. We can participate in one of life’s magic elixirs, words! Cheers! J🌱