people watching – Stories from A Closet of Errors

I sing the will to love:
the will that carves the will to live,
the will that saps the will to hurt,
the will that kills the will to die;
the will that made and keeps you warm,
the will that points your eyes ahead,
the will that makes you give, not get,
a give and get that tell us what you are:
how much a god, how much a human.
I call on you to live the will to love.

Credo, Alfred Kreymborg

Photo, Campo dos Mártires da Pátria (Porto, May 2018)

Parallels and intersections

Lines

We are born at sunset

References

Fernando Pessoa, XIV – We are born at sunset and we die ere morn

The gliding Lethe leads her silent flood

The souls that throng the flood

Are those to whom, by fate, are other bodies ow’d:

In Lethe’s lake they long oblivion taste,

Of future life secure, forgetful of the past.

Photo: Ponte de Lima (2017) I have spent a lot of happy and not so happy days in this place during my childhood and teenage years. A village which is known for a legend of forgetfulness has helped me to know a little bit more of who I am.

References

The Aeneid by Virgil

The world forgetting by the world forgot

mon

Madrid November 2016

References

Alexander Pope, Eloisa to Abelard

Portable magic

Do not read, as children do, to amuse yourself, or like the ambitious, for the purpose of instruction. No, read in order to live.
Gustave Flaubert

References

Stephen king

2017 Favorites

caught alive together

I like to prowl ordinary places.
I feel sorry for us all or glad for us
all
caught alive together
and awkward in that way.

there’s nothing better than the joke
of us
the seriousness of us
the dullness of us

Charles Bukowski

Photo Calle Sta. Eulália, Mérida

Feathered

Hope is the thing with feathers

That perches in the soul,

And sings the tune without the words,

And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;

And sore must be the storm

That could abash the little bird

That kept so many warm.

I’ve heard it in the chillest land,

And on the strangest sea;

Yet, never, in extremity,

It asked a crumb of me.

Hope is the thing with feathers (254)

Emily Dickinson, 1830 – 1886

Photo: AgitaÁgueda, Carnaval Fora de Horas

So moments pass as though they wished to stay

mde

We have not long to love.
Light does not stay

References

Tennessee Williams

Siena, May 2017

The thousands of mirrors that reflect me

Self Reflecting as a fortuneteller (according to my husband) on the tram in Sarajevo

For I do not exist: there exist but the thousands of mirrors that reflect me. With every acquaintance I make, the population of phantoms resembling me increases. Somewhere they live, somewhere they multiply. I alone do not exist. Vladimir Nabokov, The Eye