"The beauty of things must be that they end."

Jack Kerouac, Tristessa

(rest in peace Daddy)

Whisper

We dive in to go deeper.
Explore souls of unknown worlds.
Wishes turn to ashes.
As silence clouds every secret told.
And untold.

Jo

I went crazy when I saw the way he looked at you..

True story: A group of a future president's love letters during his two-year courtship with his future wife, Patricia Ryan, was recently made public through the Richard Nixon Presidential Library and Museum. They supposedly reveal the sensitive side of a man known later for being grim and reviled by many.

We haven't seen the letters but can guess at some of the contents:

Dear Pat:

I loved our time together last night at the malt shop. It made me think so warmly of the future we could have together. I want to give you the best of everything.

And I hope you realize I was jesting when I said I would do anything to become president of these fine United States. You simply seemed like the type of gal who would admire an ambitious man, and I think I was just trying to impress you. But I now realize after our first embrace that I could easily impress you more if I just shave more closely before our next date, which I promise to do. Really.

My Dear Pat:

Every time I'm with you, my heart pounds harder, my eyes grow twice as large to take in the entirety of your beauty and I feel compelled to triple my intent to rid this country of the horrible stench of communism before it comes within 500 miles of touching and harming you.

When I hold your hand, as we did so wonderfully discreetly in the movie theater last Friday, it makes my brow perspire with the thought that some crummy Red could be the one doing that with you, if I somehow let down my guard. Rest assured that no Commie S.O.B. will be holding any of your hands so long as I am around.

Dearest, Dearest Pat:

Was that another [expletive deleted] man talking with you after church on Sunday? I could have gone [expletive deleted] crazy when I saw the way he was looking at you. I mean, [expletive deleted], Pat, I thought we were in agreement we had something [expletive deleted] meaningful here.

I know my salty language gets the best of me sometimes and has been an issue between us. You can trust me when I say I am working on that with every ounce of my strength, if that is what it takes to win you over once and for all. You are the best [expletive deleted] thing that has ever happened to me. Oh, [expletive deleted], there I go again. Sorry.

By Gary Rotstein / Pittsburgh Post-Gazette

"Soul receives from soul that knowledge, therefore not by book nor from tongue. If knowledge of mysteries come after emptiness of mind, that is illumination of heart." 

Rumi

"The Ides of March are come."

"Aye, Caesar, but not gone..."

Village Dignitary, Ivory Coast

The Guide to Getting it Right

life magazine.  1942

pat perry


"to wander in the field of flowers,
pull the thorns from your heart"
Rumi

A Glimpse into the Future

Found

Tranquility is a friend in a city that knows no hour
Tiny spaces to rest the mind are welcomed with all the grandeur
Life lives when living is tough
Energy runs deep through the pupils of the dying
We all survive off the lights
They wont ever be switched off
Found I am, in a city that I roam unknown
Lost, but the search for more is unveiled in it’s journey
I am swimming through sailing ships, searching for the sea
But i see
souls fly free
The land of the found is certainly profound

Jo

He Loved Her

"He loved her, he loved her, and until he’d loved her she had never minded being alone."

  Truman Capote

The Painter

The Painter-

He dreams in colors unordinary and bright
Skylines glow and show where to go in a mind that is captured on canvas
Women are beautiful and casted in basking light
The painters emotions live in strokes of genius that continuously grow
He may seem closed in conversation
But revealed is the man of emotion that stands behind an array of bold expression
Compassion lives in a soul that bleeds beauty and fear in pure art
Success belongs to him for persistently pursuing a dream that may only ever complete his soul
Cityscapes will disappear as we part
But his talent will keep him whole

The painter keeps his hours late at night
Passion speaks clear in silence and the darkness calms his strokes of life
The perfection lies in his mind
The world has made him blind
While the painter searches for a career
to hide behind for the rest of his years

Long live his love
That which is a masterpiece

Jo

The Hubble caught a first glimpse of the sunset on Mars.

(wish you were here)

lenses acquire telephone wires

it was just a little while ago

almost dawn
blackbirds on the telephone wire
waiting
as I eat yesterday's
forgotten sandwich
at 6 a.m.
an a quiet Sunday morning.

one shoe in the corner
standing upright
the other laying on it's
side.

yes, some lives were made to be
wasted.

-Charles Bukowski

Does he know me?

I will lie with you

"I have never found anybody who could stand to accept the daily demonstrative love I feel in me, and give back as good as I give."

-Sylvia Plath