Saturday, November 30, 2013
From "Wood's Lot" - how true…..
Has the Image Killed the Imagination?
Professor Ben O'Loughlin
Inaugural Lecture
The Department of Politics and International Relations
Royal Holloway University of London
Try to imagine the future. You can’t. You’re reading this. The screen has you trapped. Another image is catching your eye now too. The image is crowding out the future, a continuous drain on attention. Politics is dreams, goals, plans. It needs the future. Without time to imagine, what is left of politics?Backdoor Broadcasting Company
Academic Podcasts
via —synthetic_zero
Friday, November 22, 2013
Quote of the Day
When power leads man toward arrogance, poetry reminds him of his limitations. When power narrows the area of man's concern, poetry reminds him of the richness and diversity of existence. When power corrupts, poetry cleanses.
Sunday, November 17, 2013
Saturday, November 16, 2013
Girls
They' were the ones
with the numbers
one through ten
they paraded themselves
in the ring
holding the numbers high
It just goes to show -
you and I
we never stood a chance.
Debbie Calverley
with the numbers
one through ten
they paraded themselves
in the ring
holding the numbers high
It just goes to show -
you and I
we never stood a chance.
Debbie Calverley
Quote
"The person who said time heals all wounds didn't know what the hell he was talking about"
Survivor - Jonestown Massacre
Monday, November 11, 2013
Zig Zag
Through alleys of avoidance
streets shiny with rain
footsteps ever closer
can't allow the catch
Every step disconnects
unleashes the dog
unbridles the mare
unclips the wings
The mind undoes
such thoughts of absence
memories spill their stories
to the dark
A face forgotten reflected
in a puddle time distorted
with confusion as to how
it rips away
hearts in pieces
-Debbie Calverley
streets shiny with rain
footsteps ever closer
can't allow the catch
Every step disconnects
unleashes the dog
unbridles the mare
unclips the wings
The mind undoes
such thoughts of absence
memories spill their stories
to the dark
A face forgotten reflected
in a puddle time distorted
with confusion as to how
it rips away
hearts in pieces
-Debbie Calverley
Friday, November 1, 2013
November Blues
What do you say
when you don't know what to write
or how to write it ?
What do you say
when you no longer know
who you're writing for?
What do you say
when all there is to say
has been said?
Tell me, do you hear the wind
in the sycamore tree
the one where I carved your name?
Is anything left?
Tell me.
Debbie Calverley
when you don't know what to write
or how to write it ?
What do you say
when you no longer know
who you're writing for?
What do you say
when all there is to say
has been said?
Tell me, do you hear the wind
in the sycamore tree
the one where I carved your name?
Is anything left?
Tell me.
Debbie Calverley
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