#sal gen

[poetlegit]

Wisdom

The tennis player plays with three balls:

the first he throws back

the second he puts in his pocket

and finally, with the third, he plays the game.

[poetlegit]

New balls

in the game of tennis

as it is in life

a new set of balls is

often needed.

-sport quotes

[poetlegit]

Always cool the bass player

in a rock band.

[poetlegit]

Faraway

 There is nothing in space

only debris of past conflagrations

and a blurry light, faraway

in endless darkness.

[poetlegit]

If not for the violets

I’m here to bring you a bunch of

roses, give me your hands. 

Underneath a veranda full of flowers 

you steal the violets kiss. 

Smiles the Moon beyond the silken

lamplights.

[poetlegit]

In the game of soccer, when 

the camera follows the athletes,

the player in the foreground, 

without fail, spits.

-Weird sports.

[poetlegit]

Two of a kind

He’s always cool the bass player in a rock band, even cooler when he’ s a she.

Non c'è niente nello spazio solo debris di passate conflagrazioni e una luce opaca e distante in endless darkness. 

T:  There is nothing in space, only debris of past conflagrations and a blurry light in endless darkness.

[poetlegit]

A May Day kinda tribute

What is this incessant need to overcompensate for anything and everything? 

Splatting all over all sorts of social media; in all poses, with everybody we know and the more we know, the better.  Is it, perhaps,  our own  personal race to immortality that compels us to it?

Or is it “my car is better than yours” kinda thing (and we all know what  that used to compensate for). Still does. Obviously, I might be wrong.

And, if I am wrong (which I might), is it because people like to have fun? And they find themselves in this kind of loop, where exhilaration eventually gives in to boredom and the splatting either diminishes or increases,  depending on the leading mood of the operating subject. 

Some of us might say that it is because of our inner need to help others, that feeling of being of help that transponds somehow thru our artistic efforts onto others.  Sometimes I like to think this may be it.  It has to be; it’s the most noble of all options.  Until some doubts creep in and I got no other plausible answer except, perhaps…

Is it something they put in our food?