Philosophies

By Dorothea Lasky

The man who murders his wife

Is not the same as the man

Who goes around and murders a stranger.

I am a woman but I am not

The same as another woman.

Identity politics are bullshit.

There is only the smart and the evil,

The good and the righteous.

There is only one color on the earth.

In its infinite degradations it becomes music and mathematics.

There is shit on my hands

When I have been playing around with specifics.

Love your lover. You are a lover.

With each breath God has put a golden faith

Upon the snowy mountains of the world.

Here, look at the snowy mountains,

Glittering with snow.

They are wiser than you might think.

And in your soul, the small grey animals

Of the world sit and wait to do good

For you, and together

We are one thing, bleating a

Somber, scurrying lullaby to

Lapsing pinkish angels.

Upon a mountain

The angels smile sleepily as they stretch

Their very long legs, thinking of us.

And wise they might seem, us and the angels,

The Choice

By Nate Klug

To stand for once

outside my faith

to steady it

caught and squirming on a stick

up to mind’s

inviting light

and name it!

for all its faults and facets

or keep waiting

The Progress of the Soul

By Thomas McGrath

Where once I loved my flesh,

That social fellow,

Now I want security of bone

And cherish the silence of my skeleton.

Where once I walked the world

Hunting the devil,

Now I find the darkness and the void

Within my side.

First to be good, then to be happy I

Worked and prayed.

Before the midnight, like the foul fiend,

I killed my dear friend.

Hope unto hope, dream beyond monstrous dream

I sought the world.

Now, at the black pitch and midnight of despair,

Starry Night – Chris August Lyrics

Jul.30, 2010 in S

From the birds that sing in the tallest trees
To the human life of you and me
From the desert sands to the place we stand
He is God of all, He is everything

I’m giving my life to the Only One who makes the moon reflect the sun
Every starry night that was His design
I’m giving my life to the Only Son who was and is and yet to come
Let the praises ring ’cause He is everything
‘Cause He is everything

From the autumn leaves that will ride the breeze
To the faith it takes to pray and sing
From the painted sky to my plank filled eye
He is God of all, He is everything

Hallelujah Hallelujah I believe (x2)

I’m giving my life to the Only One who makes the moon reflect the sun
I’m giving my life to the Only Son who was and is and yet to come

I’m giving my life to the Only One who makes the moon reflect the sun
Every starry night that was His design
I’m giving my life to the Only Son who was and is and yet to come
Let the Angels sing that He is Heavenly
So let the praises ring ’cause He is everything

I Remember, I Remember

By Thomas Hood

I remember, I remember,

The house where I was born,

The little window where the sun

Came peeping in at morn;

He never came a wink too soon,

Nor brought too long a day,

But now, I often wish the night

Had borne my breath away!

I remember, I remember,

The roses, red and white,

The vi'lets, and the lily-cups,

Those flowers made of light!

The lilacs where the robin built,

And where my brother set

The laburnum on his birthday,—

The tree is living yet!

I remember, I remember,

Where I was used to swing,

And thought the air must rush as fresh

To swallows on the wing;

My spirit flew in feathers then,

That is so heavy now,

And summer pools could hardly cool

The fever on my brow!

I remember, I remember,

The fir trees dark and high;

I used to think their slender tops

Were close against the sky:

It was a childish ignorance,

But now 'tis little joy

To know I'm farther off from heav'n

A Heart Divided

By Pierre Reverdy

He so spares himself

He so fears the coverings

The sky’s blue coverlet

And pillows of cloud

He is ill-clothed by his faith

He is so afraid of steps that go awry

And streets chipped in the ice

He is too tiny for winter

He so fears the cold

He is transparent in his mirror

He is so hazy he loses himself

Time rolls him under its waves

At moments his blood flows the wrong way

And his tears stain the linen

His hand gathers green trees

And nosegays of seaweed from the strand

His faith is a thorn bush

His hands bleed against his heart

His eyes have lost their glow

And his feet trail over the sea

Like the dead arms of devil-fish

He is lost in the universe

He stumbles against cities

Against himself and his own failings

Then pray that the Lord

Erase even the memory

Of this man from His mind

Adding It up by Phillop Booth