Favorite Thing 1 (a poem)
Favorite Thing 1
Through cold months and warm months the moon is the same
in a moment of weakness I let you become my favorite thing.
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Favorite Thing 1 (a poem)
Favorite Thing 1
Through cold months and warm months the moon is the same
in a moment of weakness I let you become my favorite thing.
The best mathematics, like the best literature, will continue to cause intense emotional satisfaction to thousands of people after thousands of years.
André Weil and G. H. Hardy views on mathematical beauty.
A mathematician, like a painter or a poet, is a maker of patterns,” he wrote. “If his patterns are more permanent than theirs, it is because they are made with ideas.” Hardy went on to characterize what makes a mathematical idea worthy: a certain generality, a certain depth, unexpectedness combined with inevitability and economy.
See Hardy’s essay A Mathematician’s Apology (wiki, PDF, Amazon)
“Lips that long for so many things…. Kisses ungiven, words unsaid, smiles unborn, all tied to another’s lips that are long gone”
— e.v.e.
“To think you sleeping under the stars while you think of me and wondering if you know I am doing the same and knowing even though so many miles separate us, our thoughts linger in the others arms,there underneath the stars.”
— e.v.e.
Peaceful Invasion
I had forgotten the silence on this grey lake the dark quiet waters far from echoes of the city where nothing disturbs my shadow lest the moon and stars Why then tonight this night must the wind whisper so loud that ripples flutter making the frogs busy A peaceful invasion of little cries here in the loneliness of summers solitude
we fit so perfectly
like spoons
•
and the desire to lie
together once again
•
shall haunt us
until the end of time…
•
—x-changes
I feel you in the folds of my memory
tucked deeply into my sentiment
tickling my waves of confusion
with the glorious smoothness
of your mother tongue
—x-changes
18-8-2018
…and the spontaneous infinite unfolding into some other kind of organic “resistance” that simply has time for nothing but flow
so many abstract words … ring differently upon their direct experience in the body
and at the same time render themselves — unnecessary
Disconnect
Once a vibrant multi-hued life,
Conflict triggered black and white,
All that remains are shades of strife
Formless grey obstructing light
Even after you hurt me so, I can't seem to stop missing you, in the moments I want to share, in the moments I'm most vulnerable, and my impulse is to turn to you, burning our bridge was the hardest thing I've ever done... on every silence, every heartbeat, always her, always you.
“I live by impulse, by emotion, by white heat.”
— Anaïs Nin, Henry and June: A Journal of Love
Yeahhh
“Distorted realities have always been my cup of tea.”
— Virginia Woolf, Selected Diaries
I write the song!