Jessica Bibbee

Posts Tagged ‘soul’

20130903

In aphorism, poetry, proverb on 20130903 at 20:25

As if in rival, existential exposition, I am
respected by kindred souls and
ridiculed by hindering souls.

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20110729

In aphorism, proverb on 20110728 at 09:30

Flight is impossible, with reluctant feet.

Grounded soul, flying spirit.

20110712

In aphorism, proverb on 20110712 at 23:29

Vulnerability is the only reality; anything else is repression.

Revenge is lost on the unworthy.

Negative action takes only from our own soul; positive action gives to all souls.

We must be vulnerable if we are to ever be strong.

It is during the darker moments that new light is found.

20110125

In aphorism, proverb on 20110125 at 11:45

Able is as can did.

To be enlightened, one need not produce the light -only reflect it.

Who dares to bare his soul, so frees his soul.

20091107

In aphorism, idiom, proverb, rumination on 20091107 at 14:30

[on BELIEF and ACTION]

It is possible to know one’s beliefs by looking at their actions, but it is impossible to know one’s actions simply by looking at one’s beliefs.

For belief is different than action, and rare is the person who acts according to his or her professed belief.

Humans are mortal, by definition, and know for certain very little about things immortal.

Hypothesis and superstitions, often termed belief, aim to simplify what is supernatural, i.e., what is not of this earth.

One’s beliefs cannot change reality, they cannot explain the past or define the future. At most, a belief may shape the present, and only our actions can agree with our beliefs.

If our actions do not match our beliefs, then it is only the present that we disgrace in the name of the future.

A belief which does not match our actions is but another’s, whose existence is never real enough to call our own. In this light, it is only possible to say that actions exist and beliefs are as only as real as said actions.

The action which differs from belief must relinquish any ties to that belief, for they are separate, they are an ‘other’ unto each other.

A fool professes a belief and guides not his actions to follow. The wise guide their own actions accordingly, and in doing so, set forth a belief which no soul can dispute, as it is backed with action.

20090717

In poetry, rumination on 20090717 at 16:16

《light of dark》

It is in the might of darkness near
that the humble soul asks simply
that the way light the path, and
lo, the blessed soul is blinded by the light.
that simply is but darkness’ wrath,
which never is what darkness hath.

20080818

In aphorism, proverb on 20080818 at 15:05

Do much with little, or even with much, will you do little.

Who gifts the golden rule is never without it.

Only when the hand steals is a soul truly poor.

Questions engage, answers terminate.

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.