Chicago Autumn Haiku
single leaf falling
as the “L” cleaves the dark night
(do not go gently)
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wake up
I’m going through a period of intense surrender in my life–surrender to a Higher Power, to Love, to a wisdom beyond what my ego has been feeding me. I am waking up from the dream of this planet, the dream of the illusion of control that my small self has been thinking it has. The…
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organic matter in a pixelated universe
me staring into my computer screen like Narcissus I took a break from Facebook for a week. It was liberating. I was much more focused. I unraveled myself from other people’s energy systems and let myself create, write, think, feel and breathe. It was very, very good. I also missed sharing things and some of…
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to what end, technology?
Update on 10/24/2024: There used to be an embedded video here of animated robots reading a Keats poem from a site called xtranormal. I made some fun videoS there when it was still around. Sadly, I didn’t download most of them so they are lost. Like so many things. ~KdL I enjoy my comfortable life…
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- art | divine | faith | inspiration | love | poetry | Uncategorized
for the sake of love
A Bridal Song I. The golden gates of Sleep unbar Where Strength and Beauty, met together, Kindle their image like a star In a sea of glassy weather! Night, with all thy stars look down,– Darkness, weep thy holiest dew,– Never smiled the inconstant moon On a pair so true. Let eyes not see their…
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- divine | faith | grace | inspiration | love | mystery | photography | projects | self-excavation | the delicious now
play up ahead
This is a sign found in my new neighborhood. It bodes well for things to come. I was telling a friend recently that my playful inner child has been getting squelched by constantly witnessing so many wounded children of late. Times they are a changing. I am reclaiming my desire and ability to play for…
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- grace | inspiration | love | mystery | photography | pleasure | poetry | self-excavation | sexuality | the delicious now
the (un)measured life
Let my life not be measured by gold or productivity or towers built for someone to later knock down Instead, let it be measured by the number of kisses on my neck, my forehead, my lips (and elsewhere). Let my life be measured by the number of times I have heard or spoken the words…
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