Poetry &Sprituality Entropy | 15 Dec 2008
Panic attacks your pain-porous skin? Imagine the layers of onion, Sufi-circling and circling until there is no tear-making body. If the issue is anorexia, taking starvation’s dark spirit-flight, or anhedonia, running from the skin’s having fun, consider the mushroom’s fleshy erection, and the pumpkins, earth goddesses and rotund Buddhas sprawled by compost’s funky aerosol. For [...]
Life &Sprituality Entropy | 17 Jul 2008
This is an eloquent piece by indian columnist Mukul Sharma, whose writing I have always, found to be meditative and thought provoking. The opening lines from T S Elliot’s The Waste Land comprise, arguably, one of the best lyrical passages in English literature: April is the cruellest month, breeding/ Lilacs out of the dead land, [...]
Poetry &Sprituality Entropy | 10 Jun 2008
My learned and enlighten friend Michele introduced me to works of Persian Poet Sohrab Sepehri – The Painter of Rhymes. Wish to share his subterranean & charming poem translated by Jerome Clinton. Illuminations A cloudless sky, no breath of wind, I sit beside the courtyard pool. The slow stirrings of the goldfish, the radiance and [...]
Poetry &Sprituality Entropy | 25 Apr 2008
What is it to be human ? What is staying alive? To possess A great hall inside of a cell. What is it to know? The same root Underneath the branches. What is it to believe? Being a carer Until relief takes over. And to forgive? On fours through thorns To keep company to an [...]
Nature &Sprituality Entropy | 30 Mar 2008
A man said to the universe: “Sir, I exist! “However,” replied the universe, “The fact has not created in me “A sense of obligation.” -By Stephen Crane- (1871- 1900 ) Stephen Crane was one of America’s foremost realistic writers, and his works have been credited with marking the beginning of modern American Naturalism
Poetry &Sprituality Entropy | 25 Mar 2008
She Considers the Dimensions of Her Soul (Mrs. Morninghouse, after a Sermon Entitled, “What the Spirit Teaches Us through Grief”) The shape of her soul is a square. She knows this to be the case because she sometimes feels its corners pressing sharp against the bone just under her shoulder blades and across the wings [...]