Saul Bellow Writes:

On page 276 of Saul Bellow’s “There is Simply Too Much to Think About”, in the writing called A World Too Much With Us, he writes:

For a very long time the world found the wonderful in tales and poems, in painting and in musical performances.  Now the wonderful is found in miraculous technology, in modern surgery, in jet propulsion, in computers, in television and in lunar expeditions.  Literature cannot compete with wonderful technology.  Writers, trying to keep the attention of the public, have turned to methods of shock, to obscenity and super-sensationalism, adding their clamor to the great noise now threatening the sanity of civilized nations.


A Day, A Life, A Piece of Time

early up boy, with the dark and dark coffee

early to rise, healthy? wealthy? wise?        triple check

early with a slice of silence, mmmmmm good with my coffee

what to do with an up early, trained like my running family, soldier life?

we write the DARK, we re-arrange the Gypsy Dust

we air wife’s tire   we write at DHTC      we hit with an old friend and talk teaching

and later-we wash our pants and watch a western

the breeze and trees

I noticed the breeze and wind, on this mountaintop

as they practiced with sticks, their martial arts

that the wind blows off the troubled brown leaf or weak branch of the tree-leaving it strong and beautiful

so I thought how the wind could blow the troubled thoughts and branches that lead to more trouble off me and out of my mind      why not?

I only hope it does not blow into the ear of another and take root in their brain

I hope it melts into fresh, clean rain in the heat of the sun

This and That: Impedes on the Now

this. . .is this

that. . .is that

please help me God or the devil, or ghosts of mine

to vacum out my head, slice and surgically remove the scar tissue of THAT.

I am here, but not.

I want to be now with the log I sit and write on.  With this moss, or ant, breeze, rain or sunshine. . .only

but I have memory of this or thought of the future. . .that.  both I’ve no control.

if Santa asked me what I want, “I want the now, just the now.”