DRILL BABY DRILL. KILL BABY KILL

Poetry is the last lighthouse in the rising sea.

-Ferlinghetti

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The Anglo-Saxons — lacking grace
To win the love of any race;
Hated by myriads dispossessed
Of rights — the Indians East and West.
These pirates of the sphere! grave looters —
Grave, canting, Mammonite freebooters,
Who in the name of Christ and Trade
(Oh, bucklered forehead of the brass!)
Deflower the world’s last sylvan glade!

Melville

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This is I think

what holiness is:

the natural world,

where every moment is full

of the promise to keep moving,

Inside every mind

there is a hermit’s cave

full of light……

Mary Oliver: “At the Lake”  

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We are not of the static world

that sits and waits and is forever

left behind to puddle in the rock pools

of the predictable…

-Rita Kelly