Ghost of a god

Ghost of a god photographed and edited digitally for Inspire Me Thursday.

Live from the office

It's stuffy and hot in here.
The outside world still can't quite admit that winter is over. There were occasional snow flurries this moring.
Some stubborn trees are holding on to brown leaves.
Two Russians are in the office today, but there's no Iron Curtain whatsoever. Apparently, all of Russia laughed about Mrs. Clinton's emergency stop switch present.
Need to get on with work, but had to blog off some boredom.*

– Yours truly, L.B.

* 'Boredom' is, of course, a word that's not allowed around here. Problems aren't allowed, either. Only challenges and solutions. What shall we call boredom then? 'Slight momentary lull in the general scheme of challenge'?

What’s it take

to cajole that sourpuss,
that scroungy being with his grey strandy beard
away from his sacred tree?

What a recluse he is, and oh what a temper he has
when disturbed, letting pretend-holy
anger strike me like lightning

– Leonard Blumfeld (© 2009)

Written from someone else’s point of view around cajole, recluse and temper from 3WW. It’s all Indian today, after a Holi festival last night with Bharatanatyam dances and Bollywood film karaoke, plus immersing myself into a few poems by Rabindranath Tagore this morning. No wonder then that this is by some poor woman whose husband has got it into his brain that he needs to sit under a big old tree, grow his beard and become enlightened.

Vortic exercise

I’d
like
to hurl
myself in a
swirl – hurtling into
synesthesia: sound, meaning, love.

– Leonard “Vorticist for a Change” Blumfeld

Notes
A fibonacci written for Swirl at Inspire Me Thursday.
Alludes to the vorticist art movement (and Ezra Pound, who coined the term) – without, I admit, knowing much about it beyond surface stuff.

Twilight

Over by the wildwood, in the hot summer night,
We lay in the tall grass, til the mornin' light come shining

If I had my way I'd never get the urge to roam.
But sometimes I serve my country, sometimes I stay at home.

Just don't put me in the frame upon the mantel
Where memories grow dusty old and grey.
Don't leave me alone in the twilight.
Twilight is the loneliest time of day.

And I never gave it a second thought, it never crossed my mind
What's right and what's not. I'm not the judgin' kind.
But I would steal your darkness and the storms from your skies.
We’ve all got certain trials burnin' up inside.
Don't send me no distant salutations.
Or silly souvenirs from far away.
Don't leave me alone in the twilight.
Twilight is the loneliest time a day.

And don't put me in the frame upon the mantel.
Where memories turn dusty old and grey.
Don't leave me alone in the twilight.
Twilight is the loneliest time a day.

Written by Robbie Robertson

Posted for Twilight, a suggestion at One Single Impression.

The words reproduced here are Shawn Colvin's from her cover version of this song by The Band on her Cover Girl album from 1994. She deviates from the original lyrics in many instances.

Here's an impassioned rendering of the song by Eddie629 (recorded in the mud-room with steam rising in the cold weather) from Youtube:

Spanish circle

Inspired by One Single Impression's Circle.