Archive for December, 2019

Quoted in The Grove

Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature, nor do the children of men as a whole experience it. Avoiding danger is no safer in the long run than outright exposure. Life is either a daring adventure, or nothing.
~Helen Keller

The story of life is quicker than the blink of an eye, the story of love is hello, goodbye.
~Jimi Hendrix

That it will never come again is what makes life sweet.
~Emily Dickinson

Life itself is the proper binge.
~Julia Child


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Prewritten Theme:  the race

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Posted from the Grove

Lush Life: Extremes on a Theme

~Zara Larsson:   Lush Life    (3:17)

~Johnny Hartman & John Coltrane:   Lush Life    (5:29)


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Life is made up of marble and mud.
~Nathaniel Hawthorne

Life is a horizontal fall.
~Jean Cocteau


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A Moment of Joy ©

David Lorenz Winston


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@Writers Platform

the footbridge

a stream flows close that waits for me
a brook I cross to feel again and be
a meadow world ringed by trees
of floral wreathes not yet woven
grow still alive and unredeemed

hummingbirds flit and dart
pause midair their gear in park
counterpoint to swooping larks
join buzzing bees hard at work
unaware of the impending dark

a low stone wall divides the field
a perching squirrel with acorn yield
ignores the lizard’s cloaking shield
blind to plans for their virgin world
biped condos and the laws they wield

but the smog and smug life has other plans
pretends this autumn world has a friend
fund-raise parties promise to defend
but daylight bends to its early end
time has come to cross that bridge again


Viking Paean

Too much beer’s what got me here
Burned dead in bed is what I hear
Mates pissed off at my send off
Turned my coffin into funeral pyre
Then pissed the fire out on my bier


Why Life

The lush life is a high life
A drinking to get by life
Smoking for an early-death life
Toking for a higher high life
Joking to grok the wry life
Speeding to a sudden stop-life
Reading to find the why of why life


Saturday date night
Lush seeking lush for high times
Cocaine snort fell short


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In the end, the poem is not a thing we see; it is, rather, a light by which we may see — and what we see is life.
~Robert Penn Warren


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