What gives you pain?

Raspberry taste buds

What gives me pain
is
the last fresh Summer’s
Raspberry

Continue reading

Life’s A Raft

gericault-raft_of_the_medusa
 
My ship, my Titanic

Has hit an Iceberg

Her last passengers

Move to the tip and

Near-vertical

gaze at  with

foundered horror

the last lifeboats’

departure

Continue reading

Alice Munro Nobel Prize: Appreciation for the Short Story

I was so glad when I heard that Alice Munro won the Nobel Prize. 1st Canadian to win it, but also (still only) 13th woman. I’ve noticed that some of my favorite authors are Canadian women, like the late Carol Shields and Margaret Atwood, who also write fine short stories . I’ve only discovered them in the last 4 years and I can trace my becoming more conscious of the (female) fool’s journey reading these female Canadian authors. Continue reading

Hide and Seek at Rosh Hanikra

 Dolce Far Niente or …

My idea of a holiday is far niente, dolce far niente, to my husband’s dismay. Not even reading. And I have an outstanding talent at doing nothing without any feeling of guilt. Continue reading

Gammify: the 21 Century Name of the Game

Gamification of Fitness
Physiologically speaking, there are 2 classic ways to lose weight: food intake reduction or/and burning off calories. Wii Fit and its gamification ploys seem to represent a third one, according to L, an anti-fitness acquaintance. Ever since I know her, L could never stick to a fitness routine. She’s always had something to say about the fitness instructor ‘who did not like her’ at the gym, to justify her giving up or she used to say that she felt like in the chamber of torture. [I don’t blame her. If you’ve followed this blog, you know that I am not a fan of starvation or torture myself, and the ‘physical’ solution is only one part of the answer. Not only TLC (Therapeutic Lifestyle Changes) but also TLC (Tender (self) Love and Care, for example) are called for for weightloss] Lo and behold at our next encounter: I’d swear she’d lost 20 pounds. Continue reading

Blogging Hoax:Notes on Authenticity

What spurs someone to create and maintain a false identity ?

In my latest post, I wrote about the film Tootsie and the hoax personae the main character takes on, making a statement on authenticity and how complex identity is. This film came before Internet and social media took the social scene. I am a fairly recent blogger and a goose, so the idea of social media hoax, a new form of hypocrisy or worse, has only crossed my path recently, while reading an article on the Telegraph: why are straight men using lesbian dating sites?  The article is proof that the gender issue I wrote about yesterday, is still of actuality and far from being resolved, even if this post looks at the themes from a different angle. Catfishing– when someone pretends to be someone they are not by setting up a fake online profile on Facebook or any other social media site– is no laughing matter. Continue reading

Radical Rhetoric: literature as ‘Happy Creation’ and Blogging

In a previous post, I chose Jeb Birdman Corliss as an extreme case of ‘follow- your- passion’ type. As I roam the Blogocean, some bloggers choose to navigate the highs and lows of their lives through poetry, it is true from the comfort of their homes, but it does not mean that this endeavor is void of any risk. Continue reading

The Astronaut Icarus: Major Tom

Ground Control to Major Tom
Ground Control to Major Tom
Take your protein pills and put your helmet on

Ground Control to Major Tom
Commencing countdown, engines on
Check ignition and may God’s love be with you

Ten, Nine, Eight, Seven, Six, Five,
Four, Three, Two, One, Liftoff

This is Ground Control to Major Tom
You’ve really made the grade
And the papers want to know whose shirts you wear
Now it’s time to leave the capsule if you dare

“This is Major Tom to Ground Control
I’m stepping through the door
And I’m floating in a most peculiar way
And the stars look very different today

For here
Am I sitting in a tin can
Far above the world
Planet Earth is blue
And there’s nothing I can do
Yves Klein, Globe Terrestre Bleu (RP 5)
Though I’m past one hundred thousand miles
I’m feeling very still
And I think my spaceship knows which way to go
Tell my wife I love her very much she knows”

Ground Control to Major Tom
Your circuit’s dead, there’s something wrong
Can you hear me, Major Tom?
Can you hear me, Major Tom?
Can you hear me, Major Tom?
Can you….

“Here am I floating round my tin can
Far above the Moon
Planet Earth is blue
And there’s nothing I can do.”

David Bowie Lyrics

The Golden Mean for Passionate Souls?

First Fig
My candle burns at both ends;
It will not last the night;
But ah, my foes, and oh, my friends—
It gives a lovely light.
Edna St. Vincent Millay

The Triumph of Moderation Continue reading

Scenette

Bruegel_IcarusShe opened the coffee table book and stopped at the reproduction of Bruegel’s “Landscape with the fall of Icarus”

He: Found something interesting?

She: Is it sunset or sunrise?

He, from the corner of his eye, handing her tea: More like sunset. What’s the difference? Who cares anyway?

Who Cares

The self-absorbed ploughman ploughs the bountiful soil

Expensive ship cruise the rocky shores: life’s at its height

The bemused shepherd muses: perfect day, no spoil

No one can care less when Icarus reaches twilight

The selfish fisherman lounges to fish on the sea shore

End of a journey: the sun does not shine so bright

Icarus’ legs clown like the legs of Belmer’s whores

Daedalus’ stellar son was not prepared for such a flight

Belmer_Cephalopode

Who Cares

The fantastiKarus must fall

Forever

http://kincinaitis.blogspot.co.il/2011_09_08_archive.html

He, taking the book of her hands and She not opposing resistance: You’re so absorbed!

She: Why doesn’t the fisherman fish him out?

He, dismissive: ’cause he’s long dead: heart attack, I guess

She: Broken heart

He: Suicide

She: Unbridled enthusiasm

He: Casualty of youth

She: Burnt out

He: Another idiot

She: Engulfed

He: A fool

She, vanquished: Who cares?

He, drying slowly a tear down her cheek with his index: Yes, the show must go on.

 

Who Cares

The seashell fragile Icarus must wreck

Forever

Wind beneath his wings, Icarus,

For a flash of enlightenment:

——————Splash—————

Flew so close the counterfeit sun

Downfall: the price for such a willful sin

Rebel without a cause, the reckless son

Must drown forever

The Fisher King watches the ship wings full blast

The benign sun smiles its anemic rays in the distance

Good shepherd Abel counts his sheep till last

Picaresque souls pry around for instant happenstance

Ploughman Cain tills his soul with acrimony

None could care less if they’d live

In harmony

 

She, intense with tears: But… I care, I care, I care

He, hands flying above his head: women are so e.motion.all!

She, flying at the door, leaving: Who cares?

Happy Heuristics