Open, great valve of Vakhsh, The river of the Caspian Tiger, Snarling in deference to an Empire, Defiant in its pivot amongst the valleys. Bring through a peace, Oh great river! A peace the likes Of which only the Whisper of God could render, A peace to quell the heart Of the raging Tigris, Tearing from Taurus To Lagash that kneels Before the mighty Anzu. That movement makes, As with all changes, And brings truth in the end, At the end, in the merging Of brine with mountain dew. In and of that mixture The ocean goers know Adventure and mystery Aware across to lands Where only the wingéd Have wandered in wonder.
Rumi, Persian poet, scholar and Sufi mystic, was born on this day in 1207.
Truman Capote, American novelist, short story writer, screenwriter and actor, was born today in 1924.
It's hard to argue with Ethics. It took me a while, But I eventually managed to stare down Adulescentulus Carnifex Magnus, Thanking God that I was no longer iuvenis. I think he would've iacebat in me Had I not looked so old. At least he had some Ethics...
Confucius, Chinese philosopher and politician, was born today in 551BC.
Pompey the Great, Roman military and political leader, died on this day in 48BC.
Embedded in the rhetoric of distant bells Chiming for the early morning smells Perfuming the aura, like its own bright ring, Lingering at the edge of the sting. Others watch on with their poisoned lips, Sticky with licks and filthier quips, They edge towards the precipice lyrically. Observe their resulting mimicry. Report it with scratching imagery And mirrored symmetry. Then throw open the doors to the filthy street Lit by the beat That will never retreat And feel the fire's colourful heat Burning with the fury of colourful eyes Without disguise. The rules split by skin's deeper tone That are broken deeper by muscles on bone That broker our carriage And the leper's that savage The single entities within, Conceived via the original sin.
T. S. Eliot, American-born British poet, writer and critic, was born today in 1888.
Paul Newman, American actor, director, producer, race car driver, entrepreneur and philanthropist, died on this day in 2008.
On and on the rocking rolling rock did roll Until it thwacked into a deeply sleeping mole. Oh why did you disturb my sweet sheep counting sleep Oh why did you roll through my house to make up-keeping steep My house is broken up and trashed so rudely, dude! And you'd intrude my brood devouring my lovely finger food! The rock was rocked and knocked the block to take in stock But knocked the clock and mole was mocked by Rock's faux-shock. You little thief, who stole into my home to rob a mole I urge you kindly go and find another mole hole to troll. So rock did roll into a hole and did not stop He dropped and flopped into a slop that did not plop He dropped into a pot that topped the rot without a hop And went into jail when stopped by an angry whopping cop.
Jim Henson, American filmmaker, animator and puppeteer, was born today in 1936.
Dr Seuss, American children’s author, illustrator and poet, died today in 1991.
It should've been me, a fool for you, Dancing in the dark, drown in my own tears, In the river. The lonely avenue, Badlands, The promised land. You don't know me! I'm working on a dream. I'm going to move to outskirts of town, Roll the dice, I don't need no doctor. Do I ever cross your mind? Life itself be true. Unchain my heart, Meet me in the city And I'll be good to you.
As King Nebuchadnezzar stared Into the flames of Baba Gurgur And the furnace heat beat him back, His clutching wit slotted home the pieces Of this giant jigsaw of life. Even as he placed the last piece within his grasp A new one spawned in a shape That he couldn't handle, A shape that slid off the atlas, That forked into orbit, Out of reality. He flicked the edges, Which looped back to themselves. He shook them down so The ashes that they became, From searing in the heat of the pit, Sailed off into the heavens To voyage over the endless Ocean of the void. With that he pulled out his great bow, And sniped the heart of a soaring Eagle Which slammed into the desert sand with arrogance. He took the body, Claiming it as his own, Claiming deliverance, And he cast it into the burning mountain of Yanar Dag With expectation. He waited... and he waited. But this Phoenix did not rekindle And Nebuchadnezzar's failure was complete.
Guru Nanak, Founder of Sikhism and the first Sikh Guru, died today in 1539.