RSS

Tag Archives: Poetry

Thoughts on synchronicity, Elizabeth Lesser’s book “Broken Open,” and a poem inspired by two near-autodidacts

As I’m still working on post Bali posts, here’s another reblog from Victoria’s site, that deserves the love.

creativeshadows

Recently, I have been feeling out-of-sorts more than usual, and sunk in a sort of spiritual case of the doldrums.  So, I figured I needed to return once again to my old habits of reading more, crocheting less (though I’m backed way up with craft projects!), and writing poetry again.  As it so chanced, I got Elizabeth Lesser’s book Broken Open:  How Difficult Times Can Help Us Grow off one of my library websites.

Now, when I read a self-help book, even a more spiritually-inclined one, it’s a rare day.  I automatically have my critical claws out for grammar and punctuation and style errors, since many such books are self-forgiving in their copy editing.  And as expected, I found a number of mistakes and one nearly unforgiveable error–to an English teacher, anyway–in which T. S. Eliot was quoted or referred to knowledgeably, apparently, but spelled T. S. Elliot.  These sorts…

View original post 1,126 more words

Advertisements
 
8 Comments

Posted by on 02/05/2018 in Blogging, Essays, Poetry

 

Tags: , , , , ,

Mountains of the Mind – Robert Macfarlane

Why do so many feel compelled to risk their lives climbing mountains? During the climbing season, one person a day dies in the Alps, and more people die climbing in this season in Scotland than they do on the roads. Mountains of the Mind is a fascinating investigation into our emotional and imaginative responses to mountains and how these have changed over the last few centuries. It is rich with literary and historical references and punctuated by beautifully written descriptions of the author’s own climbing experiences. There are chapters on glaciers, geology, the pursuit of fear, the desire to explore the unknown and the desire to get to the summit, and the book ends with a gripping account of Mallory’s attempt on Everest. Mountains of the Mind is a brilliant synthesis of climbing memoir and cultural history.

This book is much more than a simple history of mountaineering, it’s a venture into the psychological history of Westerners (mainly the British) and how mountains ( European for the most part, with a dash of Himalayas) have imprinted themselves on our consciousness, changed our attitudes, and inspired great feats.

…and it is a physical as well as a cerebral horror, for to acknowledge that the hard rock of a mountain is vulnerable to the attrition of time is of necessity to reflect on the appalling transience of the human body.

The book starts off with the author describing how, in childhood, he discovered climbing through reading books. This beginning is written in such a wonderfully literary way and engages straight away and which carries on throughout this engrossing chronicle.  MacFarlane’s enthusiasm is infectious from the off, each page is crammed full of interesting facts and anecdotes. It’s a true love letter to the mountains but also a warning over the obsessions that come with it.

Like so many writers including Mark Twain, Percy Bysshe Shelly, Bryon, Dr Johnson, Keats, Ruskin, Coleridge, and Tennyson; whose lyrical observations have inspired millions, the reader’s imagination is inflamed by the talk of crevasses with snow that fell several centuries ago, perfectly preserved bodies, ice caverns, strange creatures and so on.  It’s easy to visualise the look, age, and height of these natural edifi, and feel the author’s deep love and sober respect for the mountains, through his words. Read the rest of this entry »

 
14 Comments

Posted by on 24/04/2018 in History, Travel

 

Tags: , , , , , , , , , ,

Cadent Displacement

Taken at the beach of Costa de Oro

Shaded within the trees, nature’s noises, a tranquil soundtrack
A moment’s reflection on a short time, relaxing in an idyllic locale
Sea lapping at the shore, rhythmically punctuates the stillness
Aimless thoughts – no rush – peace; and a cool fruit drink

High above the industrious city, a cacophony of blaring gradually filters up
Life, here thick in smog and noise, a seething mass of kinetic energy
The full force of being in all its verve, the ebb and flow of traffic and people
The purpose in mind means everything, focus, dry throat

 

Finally found the football stadium, hidden behind some tall residential buildings. Photo taken from Century Park Hotel, Manila

 
25 Comments

Posted by on 26/03/2018 in My Writings, Poetry, The Philippines, Travel

 

Tags: , , , , ,

Cold Flames

For those of you who are curious about my fiancée, here is Crissy’s debut blog post!

Lost in invisible cities

My journey to Mount Pulag – also known as theplayground of the godswas very enthralling! Climbing Luzon’s highest peak and the third highest in the Philippines at 2,922 MASL was extraordinary butclimbing it with ‘the one’ – priceless!

Mt. Pulag's TrailMount Pulag’s trailborders between the provinces of Benguet, Ifugao, and Nueva Vizcaya meet at the mountain’s peak

Long before my fiancè, Steve arrived in the Philippines from United Kingdom, we already set the date for this climb, my twenty-fifth mountain and his first. Ever since I started climbing in 2014, I promised myself to climb this mountain with the one and now ready to share it as my first blog post because we already announced our engagement, I didn’t want to jinx it.

20621758_10210618016192997_661327754123170671_nEnjoying in the playground of the gods with the man I am going marry

Almost every Filipino mountaineer has listed this mountain in their bucket list…

View original post 304 more words

 
17 Comments

Posted by on 23/12/2017 in The Philippines, Travel

 

Tags: , , , ,

Observations

~Walking in the Rain; Observations

Walking through that closed, temporarily satiated city
light bleeds through the syrupy air before pooling together, mixing colours in the shimmering liquid display of luminescence
multi storey car parks and cheap neon signs become things of beauty in the rain, the strange distortion of air making things clear to the watcher
yet pleasingly fuzzy around the edges, reminiscent of daguerreotype photos and just as timeless.

The tram lines are silent as the scent of autumn whispers through the trees bordering the graveyard
It greets me unmolested by traffic fumes
the calm of the pristine air for the untried day yet to be experienced in this magical way
for most it will not be.

It’s my own world, the rhythmic lull of the rain, cleansing the ground is my soundtrack home
those wrapped up in bed, lulled to sleep by its romantic nature without knowing this experience unique and enigmatically illusory
my Aloneness in this world only magnified by the possibility of another spectral traveller in the distance, at once both real and imagined
perhaps I am that ghost, suddenly the nature existence is something less tangible.

Save

Save

Save

Save

 
29 Comments

Posted by on 04/09/2017 in My Writings, Poetry

 

Tags: , , , ,

Naivety

I can think of nothing further to add to this…

arwenaragornstar

IMG_0570

When I was praying
For the victims
And for the living
Forgiving
Our enemies
Refusing
To give in
To anger
& Hate
I saw Death
Grin
Pick up its scythe
And go on cutting
Indiscriminately
Enthusiastically
All the while
Laughing
At my sheer naivety

Image credit: cheo36.deviantart.com

View original post

 
11 Comments

Posted by on 30/08/2017 in Poetry

 

Tags: , , , , ,

The Bookshop

Here is something I did over at Morgan’s blog, being a nice chap and all, check it out!

Booknvolume

shakinThis blog post is brought to you from the mind of Ste J, book defender/lover/obsessive, knowledge seeker and occasional afternoon napper who can be found https://bookmust.wordpress.com and is always happy to make your acquaintance.

The Bookshop

I

Entering the gateway

quaint handle and ring of the bell

a friendly greeting and the musty scent

that pleasantly assails the senses

II

A world of infinite dreams surrounds

of pirates, distant worlds and lavish parties

each crafted teaming with life and imagination

all waiting to be explored and devoured

III

The ages gather here too

ordered casually together

side by side

covered in dusty patience

IV

Time moves differently here

slowly…

the world outside ceases to be;

the perfect existence

V

And now there is just you

and sound of pages turning

the crackling breaking the silence

adding to that unrivalled atmosphere

Save

View original post

 
41 Comments

Posted by on 11/02/2017 in My Writings, Poetry

 

Tags: , , , ,

 
%d bloggers like this: