Post 810, Day 113 of 2013
- and 844 days since I started this blog -
Daily Comment
- and 844 days since I started this blog -
Thunderhead
The
man with a hole in his head
was not dead, but imagine what worlds
fly howling through that hole, and how
he would be whole. We think, therefore
would be.
The man with a hole in his head
wasn't lead, either. But in the morning
when he rises, or tries,
and coldly appraises the pain,
and warmly commends his slow, trying bones –
that morning may be all his mornings,
and that useless to mourn, false
though seeming all he has
to make too much of.
The man with a hole
the man in a hole
of course is not whole
has headlong gone to Hell --
par for the course, merely, just a poor
wayfaring strangeness, desiring to speak
this, that may or may not heal.
He once had a friend
who uttered a forest of strangers
and became later a stranger himself.
Neither knew then
how nothing would come of something
with nothing for it
but to wander on alone.
Nothing to it. Nothing to atone.
Yeah the one of whom you have read
was not dead, but imagine what worlds
fly howling through that hole, and how
he would be whole. We think, therefore
would be.
The man with a hole in his head
wasn't lead, either. But in the morning
when he rises, or tries,
and coldly appraises the pain,
and warmly commends his slow, trying bones –
that morning may be all his mornings,
and that useless to mourn, false
though seeming all he has
to make too much of.
The man with a hole
the man in a hole
of course is not whole
has headlong gone to Hell --
par for the course, merely, just a poor
wayfaring strangeness, desiring to speak
this, that may or may not heal.
He once had a friend
who uttered a forest of strangers
and became later a stranger himself.
Neither knew then
how nothing would come of something
with nothing for it
but to wander on alone.
Nothing to it. Nothing to atone.
Yeah the one of whom you have read
will
become
dead.
His
ghost and I
commend your bones to such upstanding
endeavor as yourselfness may still, rickety, try.
In the wind and the rain
you can hear the hoarse cry:
commend your bones to such upstanding
endeavor as yourselfness may still, rickety, try.
In the wind and the rain
you can hear the hoarse cry:
Miss
the train I'm on.
Know -- I am gone.
Hear the whistle blow
a ghostsong tune.
Blackhead, thunderhead...Know -- I am gone.
Hear the whistle blow
a ghostsong tune.
The man with his head in a song
was just plain wrong. Wrong
to imagine because something sings
it speaks to all things. But in the morning,
still, he rises and like the lark exposes
his throat to the chill, extending his trembling wings.
--david almaleck woilnsky
Please leave a comment if you visit my blog. Thank you!
Today's Weight: 206.0 lbs
Food and Diet Section
 |
| First-half year 2013 daily weight |
Yesterday's Weight: 206.2 lbs
Day Net Loss/Gain: - 0.2 lbs
Diet Comment
No change, and the direction remains the same. But the snack fail late at night will probably hurt tomorrow's result.
Food Log
Breakfast |
| Spinach and black bean fritatta with salsa and Paleo coconut bread toast. |
Lunch
Chia gel.
Dinner
 |
| Salmon and hemp-seed salad on Spring Mix greens. |
Coffee: 20 oz. Water: 112+ oz.
Please leave a comment if you visit my blog. Thank you!
Nice. I will bet you are getting excited for the weekend. Love you
ReplyDelete