tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-76964002011-09-08T23:59:59.944-07:00"I doubt therefore I might be"-rishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15859862339666769665noreply@blogger.comBlogger221100tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7696400.post-58443134975597391992010-04-27T15:01:00.000-07:002011-09-01T13:48:13.709-07:00

Another bitter pill waits to be swallowed whole, Exposing parts of the soul that shrink to the touch of the calloused hands of an unkind fate Into the emptiness of each bait-barbed experience I thus open the door: reluctant, sullen, resentful. There is another way: To see beneath the restless swell of sea, a deep abiding calm that a thousand moons can hardly move. To stanch the draining sap that

-rishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15859862339666769665noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7696400.post-2368025406052909442009-05-21T11:06:00.000-07:002011-09-01T13:39:53.096-07:00

In defense of pretending to be more intelligent than one is:“In shallow lands does quartz abound, And if that quartz like diamond gleams Why dig deep and fool around When one as bright as the other seems!” ---------------------------- On the occasion of a friends wedding... Oh Husband, My Husband (inspired by Walt Whitman) Oh husband, my husband, the beautiful day has come All wedding cards in

-rishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15859862339666769665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7696400.post-69720009167672700842008-11-09T23:17:00.000-08:002008-11-10T07:47:25.096-08:00

One of the board members of Obama’s transition team, Sonal Shah, is being vilified by a small but vocal group as having ties to a right wing Hindu extremist organization. Does this have a ring of familiarity to it; a déjà vu of the run-up to the presidential elections? It is not the same group that attempted to defame Obama for his “extremist” ties with Bill Ayers and Rev. Wright, but it might as

-rishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15859862339666769665noreply@blogger.com11tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7696400.post-4350186934051036352008-09-25T22:12:00.000-07:002011-09-01T13:34:13.806-07:00

Advocating the use of a bigger car for a whitewater rafting adventure (Kevin B.): I think your steed, being of mighty girth, Might lend itself more fairly to the task: To squeeze five persons as twins joined at birth, Who venture forth in white water to bask Response: Well spoke, good and steadfast friend of mine For thy teacher's role, I thank thee much, And what of this here humble rhyme: Dost

-rishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15859862339666769665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7696400.post-40450626683347792532008-09-16T19:48:00.000-07:002008-09-17T08:46:38.419-07:00

“Those who do not learn from history, are bound to repeat it” - George SantayanaAnd what if one is unencumbered by the lessons of history, nay, unencumbered by history altogether? Well, then one has a running shot at the vice-presidency. Of her many areas of ignorance, Palin’s most egregious head-in-the-sand moment was when Gibson of ABC news asked her about whether she agreed with the Bush

-rishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15859862339666769665noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7696400.post-68918535814271768612008-02-08T00:10:00.001-08:002008-02-08T00:10:55.594-08:00

I walk into the polling booth at 6:00pm – a large non-descript recreation room - one of the hundreds that criss-cross the county. Two tables are arranged on either side of the room. I raise a quizzical eyebrow at the 1st poll worker that catches my eye. She asks for my address then directs me to the other side of the room. There I am asked yet again: “Street address?” I reach into my pocket to

-rishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15859862339666769665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7696400.post-89083938261809551932008-01-27T00:10:00.000-08:002011-09-01T13:24:44.135-07:00

There is this: A creative itch I need to scratch A wish I pitch, which if you match Creates anew, a challenge for you To write, take flight with words as wingsCrash-land; hold hands with foreign things An all out attack, no turning back. Swarm with sentences, jab with zest Pens as swords, that you may best Disarm the calm, disturb the peace Turn tables on your complacent beliefs Sneak up on your

-rishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15859862339666769665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7696400.post-48624108311947456722007-04-18T15:47:00.000-07:002011-09-01T13:21:00.324-07:00

Hello writers, Here is a morning scribble, with instructions below: Please add a verse or two or three, No, I mean it, no, really! Feel free to insert, not just append Your additions & changes will not offend. :-) ------ Grim Fairy Tales (with contributions from other members of the Goose family)What if I was a pea-pod, or God? What if I reigned supreme on planet earth, Or was a woman with a

-rishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15859862339666769665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7696400.post-1162271147252441662006-10-30T21:03:00.000-08:002011-09-01T13:10:31.345-07:00

Me: “I’m a bad person God” God: “Now why would you say a thing like that?” Me: “Oh because I lie and cheat and steal. I am hungry for power and fame. And I never ever floss.” G: “I LOVE having power – it is truly awesome. And fame is pretty excellent too. Look at me, I’m powerful and famous. Why, I am so famous there are a billion people supplicating to me, cursing at me, or doubting my existence

-rishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15859862339666769665noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7696400.post-1161994287345494572006-10-27T17:10:00.000-07:002011-09-01T13:15:37.048-07:00

Death beckons with a sly smileMelancholy joins, tip-toeing, in awhile.Sorrow arrives with a sniffle and a sob And Grief slinks in, dressed like the mob Love uninvited, enters with a bowBringing Life and Joy and Reprieve in tow “Dear friends”, they proclaim with a big naughty grin “Come waltz with us, let us tickle your chin!” Awaiting no response, Joy grabs hold of Sorrow Spinning till they’re

-rishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15859862339666769665noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7696400.post-1121415473375903342005-07-15T01:17:00.000-07:002011-09-01T13:09:05.595-07:00

How bizarre the exploits of the fly Dashing against the window-pane Buzzing fatly, hitting glass Picking up, then trying again How bizarre the adventures of man Chasing money, power, fame Running around all day longGetting nowhere, starting again

-rishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15859862339666769665noreply@blogger.com4tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7696400.post-1117645573643690112005-06-01T10:02:00.000-07:002011-09-01T12:10:20.454-07:00

In disjointed clips, this movie plays Pauses, rewinds, jerks back and forth Meanwhile, wisdom spews from a bottle: "Perishable – shake, then refrigerate" There is a place of stillness, they say Of love and grace and starry nights Of days drenched with delicious repose And the reading of psalms and poetry A prosaic promise of eternity that alas I have found neither here nor there, Deep inside me

-rishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15859862339666769665noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7696400.post-1116455252833058962005-05-18T15:19:00.000-07:002005-07-13T02:06:20.706-07:00

We became orphans then:Empty brown eyes – stareSilent tears – despairWhite shroud –drawnPrecious innocence – goneRipples:Dark is the mirror of lightAnd where they meet, twilightOn this still surface thenWe shall gently descend -To dive into the nightWith a squeal of delight!

-rishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15859862339666769665noreply@blogger.com1tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7696400.post-1115959596642386352005-05-12T21:40:00.000-07:002011-09-01T12:00:49.303-07:00

You wield your words like a deadly weapon of warfare. They are bullets and you are bewildered by their prowess; afraid of the havoc you wreak upon the populace. How little you have to know to stretch, and distort ideas like cheap rubber bands. Or sell them to the highest bidder like a slave on an auction stand. And now I unleash upon you precisely such twisted words in quick, but alphabetical,

-rishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15859862339666769665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7696400.post-1113458712832826252005-04-13T22:50:00.000-07:002005-05-12T20:49:39.596-07:00

After 65 hours of syrupy lemonade and salt water purges I have reached certain conclusions:1) The human body is basically stinky and foul.2) We eat way too much food.3) We appreciate it way to little.Amen.

-rishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15859862339666769665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7696400.post-1107701978082468292005-02-06T06:32:00.000-08:002011-09-01T11:40:03.627-07:00

Another poem spawned as part of a poetry workshop. The missive from Madurai was to write about home:You - single autumn leaf, Cling stubbornly on. Foolish, dry, withered and alone. Is it pride? Claiming the rights, Of a season gone, You outlive your welcome. Does not the fate of countless others, Temper your vain aspirations? Is it fear? Your gentle descent, To join the silent masses, Is

-rishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15859862339666769665noreply@blogger.com2tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7696400.post-1105511190849461012005-01-11T22:21:00.000-08:002011-09-01T11:35:45.476-07:00

Some people change the world. Aggresively, even loudly. Then there are thosewho don't shout from pulpits Rather, they creep into your livesand hearts with stealthy step Till their wisdom is your guideTill their passion runs through your veins Till your eyes dance with the vision of a future that seems possible Simply because they are here. To these enablers of dreams,These finders of god in

-rishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15859862339666769665noreply@blogger.com3tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7696400.post-1105510037727159272005-01-11T21:42:00.000-08:002011-09-01T11:28:09.434-07:00

Ancestral wisdom spoke in glowing proseOf you, provider of old- and now, of grief I thought I understood your waysBut pieces of our trust are strewn everywhere Fragments that lap up to the shoreAnd even those are rare. Did your noisy betrayal drown out our despair? Or did my screams provoke your wicked ways? I return as you must have known I would, Broken, afraid...of what you have become: A

-rishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15859862339666769665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7696400.post-1096902970737798742004-10-04T08:12:00.000-07:002011-09-01T11:14:48.490-07:00

Memory is the minds way of playing tricks. It resides in somethingthat has no actual existence, physically or otherwise. The past andthe future are both purely a conjecture, a definition for framing certain contexts, for using as a point of reference. Time is nothing but the everflowing present, no? Fleeting moments are a reality, no conjecture there. Non-attachment and making peace seem to be

-rishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15859862339666769665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7696400.post-1093761543497859612004-08-28T23:33:00.000-07:002011-09-01T11:11:15.981-07:00

I love the possibilities - everything that we could be..moments of the past and the future,colliding into the realm of the present. I could love or hate, be indiferrent or reach out, be angry or peaceful. But always, I can be something! The possibilities propel me forward. My current present, stems from confusion. What choice to make? I pick one...unconsciously. Anger! Or perhaps a smile! But,

-rishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15859862339666769665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7696400.post-1091746799551264962004-08-05T15:59:00.000-07:002011-09-01T11:07:07.625-07:00

A friend recently asked me "how does one know what to do?" The question is an interesting one. What dictates the choices that we make? And are we "supposed" to make certain choices? I suspect that the subconscious always seems to know what to do. Examining the self carefuly in the context of the circumstances of the moment, one may find a beautiful directionality emerging, perhaps only a subtle

-rishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15859862339666769665noreply@blogger.com0tag:blogger.com,1999:blog-7696400.post-1090572473396509282004-07-23T01:18:00.000-07:002011-09-01T11:04:31.949-07:00

I notice perfect strangers and think to myself - "I wonder how they will die? ". The event is astounding in its certainty and even more astounding is the wilful disregard this certainty occupies in our lives.  We all hurtle towards death at the speed of time, and every one of us will sooner or later be ambushed by pain.  Then why this disregard? And how this inability to feel others pain? 

-rishhttp://www.blogger.com/profile/15859862339666769665noreply@blogger.com0