Gemini: A zodiacal constellation in the northern hemisphere between Taurus and Cancer on the ecliptic.
With my moon in Gemini I want at least two of everything.
With my sun in Virgo "There was too much for one person to do."
You can also find me at & on Twitter @trippweavepoet

Friday, February 5, 2010

Night of the Tiger & Robert Frost Interlude Visitations

Tonight in the heart of darkness where there is overwhelm for this gemini moon, I wonder how I will ever accomplish whatever it is I am here for.

A meditation on life. I want inspiration, a whistle while I work, a life that knows joy is created from inside. But do I have it? Sometimes. Other times I wilt like lettuce in the sun.

In French cooking lettuce is sauteed with grapes and severed as a vegetable, but of course. I made it once and it turned my sight.

Who has time to write blogs? There is cooking to do. Reading to read. Life to live. Poems, stories & essays to write.

A Interlude Visitation:
Gathering like people together to share their stories imbues a wordless strength, what Robert Frost called in another context, “A clarification of life—not necessarily a great clarification, such as sects and cults are founded on, but a momentary stay against confusion.” Limbic regulation in a group can restore balance to its members—love is and will always be the best insurance against despair for which street drugs are the obvious antidote.

Perhaps a blog is a way to clarify. A place to gather. A place to fight back confusion. Can we have limbic regulation through a blog? We are certainly trying.

One of the problems with the internet, on the other hand, is only talking to people with the same views. Becoming more polarized.

What is this Libra balance act to see two sides? Confusion is one of the greatest sources of creativity. My limbic system is confused as to why I have two blogs and how will I ever have time for them.

I should be preparing for the Tiger of the Chinese New Year coming soon. Really. That is what I need to do.

And Again, A Interlude Visitation:
Frost wrote that a poem “Begins as a lump in the throat, a sense of wrong, a homesickness, a love sickness. It is never a thought to begin with.”

Everything boils down to homesickness, but I'll go into that another night. Here we sit on the verge of another year, the Tiger will enter our life and we have much to learn.

Thank you Robert Frost, it is good to hear your voice. I wait for the Tiger.

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