Jessica Bibbee

Posts Tagged ‘broken’

20121024

In aphorism, proverb, question, quote, rumination on 20121024 at 23:57

To screw the system so as to save yourself, or to screw yourself so as to save the system? Says 91+ years of wisdom, without hesitation, “Screw the system [and save yourself.” For a broken system is not often a system worth saving, and by saving yourself, you will more importantly reinvent the system anew. Lo, the system worth saving may ask for your sacrifice, but never to screw yourself. Not ever.

Condone a system or create a system.

Words of wisdom are easier philosophized than realized.

It isn’t for fear of the unknown that we fear death, it is for fear of losing the present that we fear not living.

The Uneducated and the Ignorant are beasts of two different orders.

Order ranks below class.

Constructive criticism is a compliment to the wise, a complaint to the fool.

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20090916

In aphorism, proverb on 20090916 at 06:17

The rule that is broken is the rule that did not bend.

Who follows blindly, follows a fool.

Where emotion reigns, reason cannot rule.

A nag tires of all but complaining.

A nag tires all by tiring of all.

A pigeon pecks where a pigeon stands.

A pigeon doesn’t rock and roll with a fox.

A fool forgiven is still a fool.

A fool forgiven is at least forgiven, but at most a fool.

It is easier to believe than to question.

Who takes the law into his own hands must shoulder the consequence.

20090914

In aphorism, proverb on 20090914 at 07:14

If you find it easy to count all of your misfortunes, it may be because it is too hard to tally all of your fortunes.

A fool, lacking virtue, seeks violence.

A burdened back is a broken back to the fool and a bettered back to the wise.

A truth exists, no matter how it is phrased or who ignores it.

The sun is set upon the horizon.

Virtue is like the horizon, always in sight, though less often reached.

20060131

In poetry on 20060131 at 23:10

《the sex of poets》

The sex of poets emanates –
flowing as without edges,
contagious as without knowing;
words play
back and forth –
a rhythm, ever changing,
follows whereby one leads
until the pull of the next.
One moment
as without definition,
nor clearly sided with neighbors –
rolling one to the next.
Beckoned without call,
it is from a distance that
one sees deep into the heart
where life seems both
to stop and start, again –
without pause and
with the haste of lovers
kept at bay, unwilled.
The words sear clear,
sharp and pure.
They exist alone,
and yet are fed
by the hunger of ideas
yet tossed,
yet exposed –
as if the virgin ever lived
within the eyes of the soul;
forever waiting,
forever with hunger –
fresh as the moment to follow.

The sex of poets lingers
past the setting sun
into the morning dew,
where one knows not for sure
if the climax be truer
at the final release of
thoughts never felt, – or
perhaps at the time
of response; the
lover’s words, a compliment,
meshing with, as if one.
Almost beyond a reality,
the words live on
to dance without end,
to breed a careful song –
as if in tales of lore,
existence never certain.
Fleeting, though strong;
Skirting, though present –
The moment speaks not
of tangible truths
that speak of tomorrows,
but rather the window
rarely looked into –
it is there
it is waiting,
but cannot be taken with you,
nor fed to the mortal –
only to continue
in the souls of lovers –
perhaps truer than
the love of lovers itself.

The sex of poets preys
upon the passion saved
over years and decades
desires of the flesh
never satisfy the wound
of ages past
of pains neglected
merely masking in mum
the yearning ever mounting
to release with a single
sound
The silence is broken,
fears relinquished;
the rebirth of hopes
fills the air –
thick with the essence of now
and hint of next,
never to be sure.
The bliss lies within,
ever longing.
Separate worlds entwined –
an affair of the id
within…
Never lucid to the searching,
but in control.
When no longer logic bids you
surrender, at last call
with bursting souls;
hungrier still, the eve –
power of the word
has finally come, the time.