Honesty

Honesty.

When I was a child it used to come naturally to me. Every thought, every feeling, every question flown out in the open without thinking. Eager to share, to see reactions, to get answers.

Until someone laughs when you say ”I like to lie on the floor and look at the shapes on the ceiling” and calls you weird.

Until someone insults you for wanting to know why a day only has 24 hours.

Honesty comes easy when you’re a child. Children don’t care about people’s opinions. They only care about their dreams.

Now I just lie to conform the norms of others. To fit in. To get aproval and attention.

Honesty. We all preach it. But none of us practices it.

Advertisements

A Poem From the Future

ideas.ted.com

Editor’s note: This poem kicks off a new “Question Worth Asking” series: “How weird will the future be?” First up: a piece from poet and TED Fellow Ben Burke.

[Dear Helen- So sorry. Didn’t have time to write that poem. But my future self sent me one yesterday. So we’re good. Crazy, right? It’s totally legit and actually from the future, so no need to double-check, you’re probably too busy anyway. Happy New Year!  – Ben Burke]

Edited_RECORDER

THE TRANSHUMANIST’S LAMENT
or
TOO MANY RIVERS, NOT ENOUGH LAKES
or
OH, FUTURE — YOU SO CRAZY

I arrived in the basket that was weaved here before me
And I stayed in any place with a roof that would store me
I have lots of belongings
But didn’t pack for the trip
I got here, they put pants on me
And then the world gave me the slip

I’ve lived as slowly as…

View original post 1,168 more words

my skeleton and I…we dance

Maxada Mandala

death and maiden james christensen

my own skeleton and I…
oh, we dance…
symbiotic to melodic
cadence drifting
incipient…much as rivers
begin with trickle rain,
a steady increase
heartbeat bound
to currents…swelled
in waves of sensuality

I and my skeleton…
rhythm merged, reach to
spine centered oneness
of stimulus response to
orienting love songs tenor
baritone soprano alto bass,
’til I mouth descant words
in soft sporadic harmony,
to bend turn slide tilt spin
within their singing moment

my skeleton and I…
we glide the boundary of
the ballroom kitchen floor
tango tangle in the arms of air
one body sense…life aware to
hold sinews…blood…bones
swaying …dancing in a melody
washed intricate with tears


Bonnie Marshall

Artwork by James Christensen

View original post

YOour true nature

If you supress every feeling,do you ever really learn who you truly are ?

Ignore emotions. And they go away. But so do pieces of your soul. Bit by bit. With every killed sadness, or fear, or disappointment.

Your true self. Gone. Altered.

Your true nature changed. Lost forever. Gone away.