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- PSYCHE AND EROSIn Poetry·October 19, 2023psyche viewed eros loved her lover more in light yet nearly lost love • Donovan Baldwin000
- EXERCISE AND OTHER BROADENING WORDSIn Advice and Articles·October 23, 2023Just some morning thoughts over coffee. Exercise is a broad word. Even if we exercise our options and leave out the concepts of an exercise in writing, mathematics, or, gods forbid, logic, or futility, and stick to the physical, it's still a broad topic. I first became interested in exercise as a skinny (yes I was) teenage boy, and pleaded with my father to get me a set of weights for Christmas. I looked at the pictures of Bruce Randall, Mr. Universe, and started lifting. Exercise is work! And, it's not magic, either. You don't exercise for a few weeks and look like Bruce... or, in some cases, a few years... decades? So, I studied a little and learned, from various articles in muscle mags, that THAT form of exercise didn't do a lot for cardiovascular health, or, as they said back then, endurance... which didn't really hit me until a few years later when I first read "Aerobics" by Dr. Kenneth Cooper. Of course, in the meantime, the U.S. Army introduced me to new levels and types of exercise, including the exercise of self discipline. They were VERY persuasive in that. However, I DID learn, as a result of this exercise, that I could do a lot more than I ever thought I could. That's another story. I'll exercise my option to tell that one later. For me, over time, exercise became a much broader topic with a lot more to know and learn... still evolving... especially now that I'm OLD, and more interested in "senior" exercise. Point here, is that when we begin to do things like "think", or "read", "write", or exercise our "opinions"... there's probably a lot more to learn than simply a few minutes of idle exercise in those areas to achieve some degree of understanding and "mastery"... one DAMN broad word. Wonder whatever happened to Ol' Bruce... • Donovan Baldwin000
- FRAGILE AS FRIABLE ROCKIn Poetry·October 23, 2023I, fragile as friable rock, Reduced to powder, Carried away by Transparent water, Burned by the earth's Tongues of fire, Seeking beauty Within my limited Sphere of vision, As she, Object of my desire Dances, In serpentine seduction, In ancient ritualistic homage, To an abandoned harmony Which only She and I can hear. • Donovan Baldwin001
- WE CANNOT FIND THE SINGERIn Poetry·October 23, 2023"We cannot find the singer. We've searched and all agree. He's gone, his cloak on river bank His lyre beside a tree." One by one they nodded, said, "His recent songs were sad, But once they kept us dancing, Full of life, so warm and glad." They never knew the sorrow, That the singer bore within, The sad dreams that beset him, Not betrayed by happy grin. Year by year the darkness grew His Muse dimmed and went away, Light and color faded slowly Til he only saw in gray. Still he sang for other's gladness, As his happiness grew dim, Hastened by the knowledge, That no one sang for him. Then came the day the singer No longer could be found, Just his lyre beside a tree, His coat upon the ground. If you enjoy a singer's song, Accept it and be glad. Just remember that the singer's heart, Might within be weak and sad. One thing that may give happiness, To a soul that's growing dim, Is knowing that somewhere someone, May sing a song for him. • Donovan Baldwin004
- CYCLESIn Poetry·October 23, 2023Geese have lost their Summer feathers, Trees are bent with apples red, Farmers' fields are turned and tired. It's cold, with gray clouds overhead. Soon the snow will lay a blanket, On grass and road, on farmer's field. Within a white and silent shroud, The world will be quite shortly sealed. Yet, in the home, as in a man, A fire will burn, a song will sound. Life will let the Winter pass, Until, at last, the Spring comes round. The geese shall change their clothes once more, As hills put on their yellow flowers. Farmers' fields will all turn green, As white clouds rain down April showers. • Donovan Baldwin000
- DEATH WATCHIn Poetry·October 23, 2023The fire burns high, the wailing of the women rises... "His shade walks free in death's dark and secret land, Unchained now by our small virtues, sins, and vices, Free to be the spirit he could never be here, Its natural state and self, unframed by man's staged devices. There, shall a tree be but a tree, a thing of beauty and shelter, Not hiding place for a foe, or wood to form a club or lance. There too shall his spirit be free to shape itself Not chipped or scraped by hate or errant winds of chance." Embers of this mortal flame are now dark and cold as voices fade to silence. • Donovan Baldwin000
- DISTANCEIn Poetry·October 23, 2023Distance. Worst idea ever. Who's the damned fool, Who invented distance. It's an idea that keeps us apart, Even in our language we say, "The distance between them..." And then talk about Miles, age, experience, hope, dreams, desires, expectations... On out for, Well... Some indefinite and infinite distance of word and thought. Then we poor humans are left With the task, The daily task, Of "closing the distance" Between us. Between us. That's the worst distance, Because it cannot be crossed, Or closed, So easily, Even if we say the magic word, "Love". For though noun, adjective, and verb, Even if our "love" is, Providing a philosophical bridge between Between us; Even if our "love" affair is real, Love cannot move us across Between the two, or more, opposing poles, Of "distance" between us. Distance. Damned nuisance. • Donovan Baldwin000
- FLIGHTIn Poetry·October 24, 2023Flight means leaving Earth behind, Looking down upon its beauty, Spread out below. I rested on the Earth so long. Now, I soar, as free as eagles, Higher than the clouds. I have freed my wings and set them beating, Rising up into the heavens with the rhythm Of my freedom's heart, Tho, free, I fear, like Icarus, Too near the Sun to fly, but, take the chance To touch the sky. • Donovan Baldwin002
- FREE TO CHOOSEIn Poetry·October 24, 2023Like you, I am free to choose. I choose love, Knowing well that, Love may not choose me. That matters not. I can only have What I wish to have, And I wish, To have love. I will wear a hair shirt, And live in the wilderness, If I am free to love. As much as I desire, Love in return, I've never had that, So, living without, I can have The other side of love... The giving of love. You will never know I love you, But, That's immaterial. I cannot have both sides, So, I will have the only side That I can have. Love may not choose me. You may not choose me. But, I choose you. I am free to choose, And, I choose love. I cannot live only doing what others believe is right. I can only live doing what I believe is right. That will upset some people, but, will meke me happy... And you will be loved. • Donovan Baldwin000
- LOVEIn Poetry·October 24, 2023Love! Tiny word, Huge ideas... I like... I need... I want... I desire... I respect... I treasure... I care for... You... Me... Sad... Glad... Naked... Clothed... Public... Private... Apart... Together... The list goes on. • Donovan Baldwin000
- GODDESS BY MOONLIGHTIn Poetry·October 24, 2023I swear by all the gods, above, below, In dark forest there I saw, The huntress washed with moonlight, Silver goddess, bow upraised. She saw me not in my secret shadow, But, I know she knows, I saw, Her naked beauty, streaming hair, Behind the stag in fevered flight. "Stay goddess," cried my heart and soul, As on she ran back into legend, Myth, song, and dreams, Filling empty days, and nights, forever. • Donovan Baldwin001
- GRAY LADY IN THE MIST?In Poetry·October 24, 2023Gray mist swirls seductively, Dancing to a tune played, By errant breezes slipping Among the naked branches Of the barren trees. Gray lady slips, barely seen, In whirling cloak, Or just the mist? Footfall or merely, The creaking of a branch? The prickling of the flesh, The shiver up the spine, Is as real as she surely is, Must it be her, gone so long, Yet returned this time to seek... The lover who never deserved her, Leaving her here to wander Through these black And gnarled trees, Standing guard these lonely years Over her restless soul? Gray mist? Gray lady? Mind of modern man Has one answer... Primal fears from Cave and fireside Provide the other... And on she wanders, Mist? Or... • Donovan Baldwin000
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