ThoughtForToday – 30 September 

  

The sun shines every day 

– even when you can’t see it. 

Life is bright & beautiful 

– even when it’s obscure to you. 

You are a lovely person 

– even when you can’t see it

Guest : Lars Blichfeldt “Out of Sight”

Lars

“I’m 38 years old. I live in Denmark with my wife, my 3 kids, a pig and a parrot.”

Where I went to school, you had to agree with the teacher. If you didn’t agree, you knew nothing about poetry.

Every single word had its very own meaning which only the teacher knew the answer to.

After this introduction, I never did investigate poetry any further.

Then five months ago – on a social media app called Periscope – I randomly stumbled over an Irish poet called Paul O’Mahony.

In 2 months he changed my view on poetry completely. He inspired me to try writing poetry myself.

I have no experience in writing – and I know nothing about rules or grammar.
But it gives me great pleasure to write. [You can find my poems here.]

So start writing people, no matter what level you start at, I think you will love it.
And hey…we can’t all be Walt Whitman anyway.

———————————————-

Out of sight,

but always there.

I feel the beast,

lurking in shadows.

You were bred out of chaos.

You were nursed by feelings.

You were brought up by anger,

and strengthened by hate.

You rape my mind.

You abuse my body.

You blind me with darkness,

and tie me with fear.

How can I fight, what I cannot see.

How can I defeat, what’s created by me.

_________________________________________________________

Thank you very  much Lars. It’s a honour to publish your work.

Important note:

In my imagination this blog will become a place where lots of people will be welcome to display & share their work.

Reading “Inferno” by Dante

Canto 9

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 Dante’s Inferno Canto 9

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Dante’s Inferno Canto 8

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Dante’s Inferno Canto 7

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Dante’s Inferno Canto 6

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Dante’s Inferno Canto 5

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Dante’s Inferno Canto 4

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Dante’s Inferno Canto 3

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Dante’s Inferno Canto 2

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Dante’s Inferno Canto 1 (part 3)

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Dante’s Inferno Canto 1 (part 2)

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Dante’s Inferno Canto 1 (part 1)

Thoughtfortoday –  18 September 

 

 We don’t own our shadows 

– at least not in the way we own our reflections. 

We don’t control everything. 

ThoughtForToday – 23 September

Reading tea leaves

Analysing everything

Dissecting calculations

Measuring the hell out of stuff

is one way of driving your self mad

Another is

trust your intuition

Be mindful of You

  

Increasingly,

we are urged to ‘live in the moment’.

‘Mindfully be’.

 But who is ‘being’?

Who are you now? 

What’s the story of You?

The being of You?

I promise

I promise

I will always act in what I consider to be your best interest

I will keep my promises to you

I will respect confidences you place in me

I will speak positively about you to others

I will strive not to embarrass you in public

I will alert you or seek your permission before publishing something about you

I’ll go on promising until the day after I die.

I promise I’ll be without promise from that day on.

You see I was once promising:

I had a promising future my mother said

About Paul O’Mahony @omaniblog

This is where I’ll put a short personal introduction  

ChangeAgents - The 2nd Year
My right hand
– which my daughter Grace might like to read in 20 years.

What should I say?

On Periscope  (bio):

I scope very often. Engage with humans. Playful, Poet, Storyteller, Friendly, Foodie, Gentle, Generous – Podcaster – Copywriter – http://www.paulhomahony.com  

On Twitter (bio)

Business storytelling consultant – Podcaster – Poet – Servant – On @Periscopeco – Foodie – naturally ambitious + love to share my contacts.

In Which I Learn Why There Are No Great Women Composers

This is a “Guest Post”. I simply found it & decided to share it here because I found the controversy educating me. (That doesn’t mean I agree with views expressed by the author.)

I didn’t seek permission to re-publish. Trust “song of the lark” owner won’t object.

_________________

Lots of people have hobbies like knitting, jogging, or stamp collecting. Because I am the nerdiest nerd to ever nerd, the closest thing I have to a hobby is learning about the history of women in music. It’s a topic that doesn’t get as much press as the old chestnuts like “classical music is dying” or “Stradivari’s secret […]

http://songofthelarkblog.com/2015/09/16/in-which-i-learn-why-there-are-no-great-women-composers/

Thoughtfortoday  – 21 September 

If there’s only one thing you’ll let me advise you do this week …

Explore your horizons

– they may be wider than you assume.

Scott Torrance in Cork 

  

Originally,
we met thanks to people on Periscope – the live streaming App.  

Scott was sitting on Dublin grass in the Phoenix Park. Drawing the obelix from Egypt that celebrates the military victories of Wellington.

I kept my eye on him.  Every mark he made on paper – every single line. He was too good to ignore, too attractive.

Scott shuffled himself comfortable under the shade of a tree that might have been planted specially for him. 

I heard him offer his drawing to anyone who wanted it. Anyone tuned in live to his “scope”.

The polite thing would have been to wait. 

I said to myself in Cork:

 “Me me me – I want that drawing – it’ll never happen again, boy”

So I whispered – in my loudest internet voice 

“I’ll have it please. May I have it?”

The rest is history… 

(Buy the authorised biography of Scott from Scotland, when it’s published. 45% reduction on published price – only through this site) 

Who wrote this limerick? 

I found it in the Notes App on my iPhone – from 2013. Doubt I wrote it – I like it too much.

_________________
There once was the classic mother-in-law

Who considered she hadn’t a flaw

She knew all the answers

Crosswords and chancers

Until she found she had snot in her jaw

Thoughtfortoday 20 September 

  

It’s one thing to play the white notes – 

another thing to play black.

One thing to play the right hand –

another to play the left.

But collaborating 

takes you to 

symphony. 

Wanting more 

 

I’ve always been found 

wanting more than a woodpecker carves 

into the last tree 

in the last forest,

wanting more 

than my mother’s ever offered,

– even more than father bestowed 

on one of his good days. 

I was born wanting more time for love. 

I’ve grown hungrier by the day, 

thirstier by night, 

always grasping for clean air. 

There’s never been a father more loved,

ever since letters of infinity 

were strung together 

on a necklace 

that shines with promise

and gradually shrinks 

until it chokes 

the living daylight out of me. 

I’ve always wanted to beg. 

Like most beggers,  

my voice has been feeble 

– barely enough courage 

to pay the price father demanded. 

I’ve always been found 

wanting to trust more.

I’m used to starving. 

Bless me Father, 

for I have sinned 

on a daily basis. 

let me do penance 

– only let me have time to pay.