Beyond the terrace
I pace barefoot through
the garden past the blurred
flowers that bend their petals
as though they know me.
Brilliant in the starlight
the old tree stands apart
as if having outgrown the
rest it needs space.
It sighs to the song of a breeze
limbs reaching to the sky.
I wonder if it has eyes
to hold such history.
I feel it is friends
with the moon
I hear them laughing at us.
Many, many years long past, the Tuatha Dé Danannan, the divinities of the ancients, ruled over Ireland.
Now some of them were merciful; others were wrathful, and still others, like the Banshees [Old Irish, Ban Side, “women of the mound”] were harbingers of death.
The Banshees were neither cruel nor unkind; they merely foretold the immanent death of a family member, typically through wailing, shrieking or keening, which is a traditional lament for the dead.
So what did a Banshee look like?
Well, their appearance varied by account and region. They have been described as having long streaming hair, wearing a grey cloak (over a green dress), and glaring out through red, bloodshot eyes (from their crying). Likewise, they were sometimes dressed in white, with shocking red hair and a dead, ghoulish pallor.
Occasionally, they looked like a young girl, typically a family member who died in youth.
I drive alone;
The city sky like carbon paper,
Crumpled clouds with periods of moonlight—
Bone white in peephole after peephole;
Steam jutting up through manhole fissures,
Rising in fringes of darkness.
My hands on the steering-wheel turning down
Street after street— navigating past the labyrinth
Of thugs, eager for a knifing,
Police batons enforcing their law on it, like handcuffs;
Brutality shatters the night and makes us real.
How long can I search, keeping the loneliness off?
How long will I be alone,
Pulling down the visor on my emotions,
Intercepting the dead shadows from a cold moon.
On the radio, voices of the lonely in sorrow
Lapping up my thoughts;
It hardens me, like a dead lullaby.
There she stood without any hope
Beneath a street lamps dwindling light;
Through a whim of mine, I asked her, what is your name?
She got in, vivid at my side—
One of the most sumptuous and beautiful of all illuminated alchemical texts, Splendor Solis was published in various versions throughout the German states in the 16th Century. Attributed to Salomon Trismosin, a legendary figure who acquired the Philosopher’s Stone and was allegedly Paracelsus’s teacher, Splendor contains 22 (the same number as the Major Arcana of the Tarot) gorgeous, mystifying images with elaborate decorative borders reminiscent of medieval Book of Hours. As with all alchemical treatises the text is full of dense allegorical references to the Solar King and Lunar Queen, death and re-birth, the black and the inner suns, planets and tinctures.
That is the title of one of Hannah Arendt books, a great political philosopher in the 20th century.
She just made me think how we look at the history; our history, and mark the special personalities with some especial paraphrase name; such as The angel or rescuer or as devil or evil and with these we distance ourselves from them as we had have nothing to do with.
Hannah Arendt discussed in her book about the Eichmann as a functional object in the system as everyone else might try to do its best! it is the matter of system which we are involving more and more in our modern life. that is the systematic function in society. in the development of our civilisation, just do it as best as you can. we are almost unconsciously trying to be more functional and fitter into our environment (Jobs, Neighbourhood, etc.) as we might win the cup!
As she explains; We call them (Hitler or Eichmann or…) Devils and Evils but in reality, for example, Eichmann, had got his job to vanish the Jews, he had tried to give his best! it might sound brutal but it’s just the bitterness of the truth. the main thing as we truly consider and look deeply in our society especially in politics, we are (I do the accent on “WE”) all trying to be functional. without thinking twice what for we are engaged to do. believe me that there are many peoples who, with no concern, just try to get the best result of their doing.
As my brother and me, escaped from Iran to Germany, we both wanted to work and earn the money by ourselves, my brother was a writer, from the head down to the feet, I since a long time ago, already decided nothing to do but just help brother to catch his aim. although in Germany, I didn’t want to get social help from the government as it’s usual here, therefore, tried to find a job. at first, began to play on the streets; it took a while; me and my guitar travelling through the cities and playing here and there to make people happy but the life was going more expensively and therefore, I had to try another one; become a taxi driver! that was an idea by a friend who knew me how I loved driving. anyway, I became one of them but a special one; you know why, because, I am not just transporting people from A to B, I try to help them to have a nice time in the taxi with me, listening to and have an understanding. I just want to say that I take the job consciously to make it better as it once was and not only to be functional in this business! I try just to listen to them and understand their dilemma.
In any case, I’d never want to show off myself, just to say about the way we do our jobs; functional or by their own creations.
At last but not least; reading the books by Hannah Arendt helped me to understand not only about me but the whole society around this planet.
as Dr Jung says;
Cheers all dear friends and have a wonderful Weekend ❤ ❤
The king of a small territory came across a huge conflict in treasury. He had to come up with a plan or soon he would lose his power and wealth. He told his Minister: “I have a plan. Announce to the people that the government will buy their camels for 10 gold coins.”
The Minister said: “We don’t need camels. The price of a camel is 5 coins; why should we pay more? And we can’t risk what is left of the money.”
The king replied: “Just trust my idea and do it.”
The government announced the news and some people got very excited about the double profit and sold their camels to the government.
The following week king said: “Now announce that we buy camels for 30 gold coins.”
The Minister didn’t like the king’s idea but he couldn’t argue.
The writer Boris Akunin once said in an interview that Tolstoy’s characters are as real to him as, and sometimes even more real than, real people. I absolutely agree, and I enjoy exploring the various characters. So for those who also agree, here’s yet another War and Peace blog post. About Denisov this time. A favorite of many readers, and one of those characters who one would have liked to have had a bigger part.
The opposite of Dolokhov
Denisov is the complete opposite of Dolokhov. Where Dolokhov is described as handsome, with piercing blue eyes and without moustache, Denisov is hairy, with a disheveled moustache, and eyes as black as coal. Dolokhov usually wins when playing cards (albeit cheating) and Denisov usually loses.
Their personalties couldn’t be more opposed either: although Tolstoy describes a rogue who drinks heavily and curses heartily when he introduces Denisov, from the way…
It’s Hidebound Hump Day again, my chuckaboos! This is a rather noisy episode. I didn’t notice Cornelis Drebbel’s submarine coming into port. However, I see the harbor master waving, and now I can hear his voice. Let’s get straight to the #steampunk submarine.
Previously with Copper, the Alchemist, and the Woman in Trousers
From last time, Chapter 35They decided to try a combination of da Vinci’s aerial screw and the alchemy of Cornelis lead our trio to Copper’s still missing daddy. You know as well as I do, how the Dutchman’s alchemy can go awry. Let’s see how it’s going.
Copper, the Alchemist, and the Woman in Trousers
36 — Purple, Diary, Kitchen
Unsplash (image altered by Teagan)
My finger traced the edge of a purple leather portfolio I found. Now the case held the…