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Licking Off Light I was surprised to find that you were afraid of the dark. You of all people should have nothing to fear in it. But then again, I too was once aware of the eyes and teeth and hulking spines that could press into shadows. I have heard their slitherings, I have heard the gnashings of their teeth. I grew out of these things, and there was a day where I realized that they did not belong with me, like that day I found that I could touch my toes to the ground as I dangled from monkey bars.
You never did.
Every night at eight, when the sun was beginning to slide off the expanse of the sky, you would turn on that one lightbulb, sitting like a
Zen in the Art of Botany"Consider this tree. It is new-grown, younger than you; yet in
another sense it is far older than I. What does this illustrate?"
". . . I'm not sure."
"How so, roshi?"
". . ."
"What is it about the tree that perseveres?"
"It blooms every spring?"
"That would be renewal."
"It was seeded, and in turn seeds the next generation?"
"That would be continuation."
"It's composed of atoms, which are eternal?"
"Continuation again. Look deeper."
". . . Guide me, roshi."
"How does the tree respond to
The Trees Within UsAs the leaves touched the ground
tears fell from my eyes.
For I have seen what I've become,
the progress of what I am.
I am like a tree in spring
whose leaves brought shade to all.
And as I greet my dearest sunshine
I smiled at how I withstood the fall.
I am like a tree in summer,
basking under the mighty sun.
Celebrated life and its glory
by sharing life and making memories.
I am like a tree in autumn
whose leaves slowly withered.
Yet as my leaves kissed the soil,
a thousand friends I have garnered.
I am like a tree in winter,
blistered by the freezing cold.
But never did I give up hope
I know spring is my home.
An Islander's GuideThe Islander's Guide to Aviation
I bemuse the sun
trying to ascend
to her height
the blue above
and the blue below
swap faces, exchange
With wide eyes full
of African sun I
am admired; others dare me
to prove myself. How
little they understand.
I don't need...I stare at the sea
(Unsympathetic, as always)
And suddenly remember
How to fly.
I cast off my wings
And run through the sand
To the ocean.
My heart is lifting,
I can see past the horizon,
(Never look down)
My toes touch nothing
(You are finally gone)
I dont need wings to fly.
The Dark People of Sao TomeThe dark people of Sao Tome with knotted muscles were told not to fly
By science, and a God that poked his head through the blue above.
There were dangers untold in the sunken underbellies of clouds
And none to wait with opened arms when they lost their hold on air.
But things stirred, ever full and rich with truth
In the depths and canyons of their minds.
A weathered woman, old as rocks and water,
Would sometimes steal a moment or two to dream, to remember.
The passing days and months turned these moments into many hours.
One boy, young as sunrises, would place a foot in their air
And then the other, just to know th
TreeHe is a tree. He burrows into my flesh: thin, white roots twisting around tendons and networking through nerves, drinking blood. I can feel the grasping, greedy needle-tips pressing against my heart, puncturing holes. My lungs are filled with frayed edges, rootlets that go delving into fibrous tissue finding words and worship. It makes me wheeze a disease. My throat is full, bursting with all the things I cannot say around him. He kills me.
But at least he is living off me needs me.
Before he was self-sufficient a seed.
It is progress, of sorts.
Holding- Contest EntryHolding something simple in our hearts, in our hands.
The leaves falling down as we try to understand.
And tears fall so simply, but the wind sweeps them away.
Misery grew with the rain that day.
Life runs out real quick, you grow up so fast.
Make each moment last.
You hold in your hands the innocence of days.
What is left cant be swept away.
To this world we are slight.
Always at the mercy of the moon at night.
Existence is up to nature.
You cant hold off demise til later.
Count the rings running round your face.
Youve only so long til its too late.
ProgressWe shuffle a few paces forward - before coming to a halt again - along a rutted path crawling through a dried-out landscape towards the gates of the Arboretum that lies, so they say, somewhere in the distance. Around me I can hear a few of the Pilgrims muttering a quiet prayer, but mostly people are silent, huddled in their suits, conserving their strength and numbly waiting their turn.
Im bored, tired, and irritable and I ache all over my body. Sweat puddles inside my helmet.
Tell story! Tell it! Tell Jesus story!
A little red and angry face peers up at me through a smeared and dusty faceplate. A little hand tugs at the
A blast from the past
"Here you can see a steamer. Before the modern era, steaming was a popular way to cook food, especially vegetables but also meat and fish. Another common way of cooking was boiling, which means heating water to its boiling point and then throwing the food in, but there was a problem with the water leeching out vitamins and phytonutrients from the vegetables. This is why steaming was considered superior."
The pupils stare at the metallic grid with a puzzled look on their faces. I think they trying to decide whether I'm pulling their leg. This is one of my favorite attractions in the museum, and not just because the steamer is my great grandma
Lessons for flying and divingMy best friend is a big fan of diving. Me, I'm more of a flying guy. The only difference is that when flying you're not supposed to plummet in the end. I can't say I ever understood the fear of heights. It's the depths that really get to me.
The last time my best friend went diving he forgot to come back. I'm still waiting. They tell me he's going to rise up some day. He better have, so that I can finally teach him to fly. There's just one trick to it: don't fall. That ain't no rocket science.
Every Angel Deserves a Child"I can't feel the unfurling of my wings, Daddy."
I was not her father. I had entered her life when she was two years old, and she called me Daddy since she never knew her real father. Her mother's death two years ago made me the sole, living parent of an eleven-year-old, and I never felt like I was the right person for the job.
"What do you mean, Asrin?"
"Mom always said that when puberty started I would be the swan that emerged from the ugly duckling. She said I would be able to fly gracefully towards my dreams. But, I don't feel it."
As much of a woman as she was becoming, she was still a child. I wanted to answer her question, but I really had a hard time discussing her blossoming womanhood in the middle of a laundromat. Her pretty eyes were pleading with me, but I told her we'd talk later.
Janet had told Asrin a lot of things before she succumbed to the cancer. The last week or so of Janet's life were morphine-induced fantasy, I think.
Janet and I had met during c
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`anmari has been spreading her infectious positivity throughout our community for over 6 years. Throughout this time Ana has been at the core of all things devious, passionately developing an eclectic gallery, helping organise devmeets, participating in chat events and also recently completed dedicating her time as a Community Volunteer. We are absolutely delighted to bestow the Deviousness Award for May 2013 to `anmari, congratulations! Read More