Very hard to believe

(that kind of possession comes from the Muses - not calculation)


[245a] ... And a third kind of possession and madness comes from the Muses. This takes hold upon a gentle and pure soul, arouses it and inspires it to songs and other poetry, and thus by adorning countless deeds of the ancients educates later generations. But he who without the divine madness comes to the doors of the Muses, confident that he will be a good poet by art, meets with no success, and the poetry of the sane man vanishes into nothingness before that of the inspired madmen.

   — Plato. Plato in Twelve Volumes, Vol. 9 translated by Harold N. Fowler. Cambridge, MA, Harvard University Press; London, William Heinemann Ltd. 1925.

Stop thinking, just do

 

"Come, will you join me in my precision?" by Anno Birkin

 

John Keats- Ode to a Nightingale

 

Ode To a Nightingale by John Keats lido por Benedict Caumberbatch

Música - Mahler, Simfonia nº5, Adagio

A dream within a dream - Poe

 

Lemn Sissay - Invisible Kisses

 

lido pelo próprio

There’s the moon asking to stay

There’s the moon asking to stay
But it’s my time coming
Oh, drink a bit of wine, my love
We both might go tomorrow“

Jeff Buckley

"The night is come, but not too soon"

NASA

The night is come, but not too soon;

And sinking silently,

All silently, the little moon

Drops down behind the sky.

There is no light in earth or heaven

But the cold light of stars;

And the first watch of night is given

To the red planet Mars.

Is it the tender star of love?

The star of love and dreams?

O no! from that blue tent above,

A hero’s armor gleams …

Henry Wadsworth Longfellow, ‘The Light of Stars’.

"Earlier the night came on"

"Earlier the night came on

Nor moon, nor stars, were visible in heaven

And when at morn the youth unclosed his eyes 

He knew not where to turn his face in prayer."
-from Thalaba The Destroyer (1801) by Robert Southey

Art by John Martin

Know thy enemy

Know thy enemy

he does not care what colour you are
provided you work for him
and yet you do!

he does not care how much you earn
provided you earn more for him
and yet you do!

he does not care who lives in the room at the top
provided he owns the building
and yet you strive!

he will let you write against him
provided you do not act against him
and yet you write!

he sings the praises of humanity
but knows machines cost more than men.
Bargain with him, he laughs, and beats you at it;
challenge him, and he kills.

Sooner than lose the things he owns
he will destroy the world.
SMASH CAPITAL NOW!

But as you hasten to be free
And build your commonwealth
Do not forget the enemy
Who lies within yourself.

Christopher Logue

Hard Night

Hard Night
BY CHRISTIAN WIMAN

What words or harder gift

does the light require of me

carving from the dark

this difficult tree?


What place or farther peace

do I almost see

emerging from the night

and heart of me?


The sky whitens, goes on and on.

Fields wrinkle into rows

of cotton, go on and on.

Night like a fling of crows

disperses and is gone.


What song, what home,

what calm or one clarity

can I not quite come to,

never quite see:

this field, this sky, this tree.

Poesia ao anoitecer - 'And people stayed home'

And people stayed home

A poem by Kitty O’Meara

And people stayed home

and read books and listened
and rested and exercised
and made art and played
and learned new ways of being
and stopped
and listened deeper
someone meditated
someone prayed
someone danced
someone met their shadow
and people began to think differently
and people healed
and in the absence of people who lived in ignorant ways,
dangerous, meaningless and heartless,
even the earth began to heal
and when the danger ended
and people found each other
grieved for the dead people
and they made new choices
and dreamed of new visions
and created new ways of life
and healed the earth completely
just as they were healed themselves.

Kitty O’Meara - Kathleen O'Meara (1839–1888),

No time left, a score by Ivan Georgiev on a painting by Fanny Ferry Bailly. And a poem by Langston Hughes

"Hold fast to dreams
For if dreams die
Life is a broken winged bird
That cannot fly.

Hold fast to dreams
For when dreams go
Life is a barren field
Frozen with snow."

Langston Hughes 1902-1967

In praise of poetry - Rain

"Rain" 

Suddenly this defeat.
This rain.
The blues gone gray
And the browns gone gray
And yellow
A terrible amber.
In the cold streets
Your warm body.
In whatever room
Your warm body.
Among all the people
Your absence
The people who are always
Not you.

I have been easy with trees
Too long.
Too familiar with mountains.
Joy has been a habit.
Now
Suddenly
This rain.

by Jack Gilbert (1925–2012)

Adrian Borda

In praise of poetry

To the Muses

Whether in heaven ye wander fair,
Or the green corners of the earth,
Or the blue regions of the air,
Where the melodious winds have birth;

Whether on crystal rocks ye rove,
Beneath the bosom of the sea
Wand'ring in many a coral grove,
Fair Nine, forsaking Poetry!

- William Blake (born today in 1757)